Was it a burglar? Maybe one of the ruffians I’d seen tucked away in the corner of the tavern? Or it could’ve been the building settling.
The floorboard above me creaked.
“Rowan?” I wouldn’t put it past him to use the shadows to teleport inside the café. He’d flash that adorable snaggletooth and snicker at my incredible feat of bravery—aka grabbing the closest thing to me to use as a weapon. Which was…
A soup ladle.
I read a book once where a guy grabbed a spatula for protection against a creepy demon chef trying to chop him up and put him in a stew. At least a soup ladle wasn’t so flimsy.
Better to smack you with, my dear.
Another creak.
After taking several deep breaths and pumping myself up to face whatever horrible thing lurked upstairs, I tiptoed from the kitchen and neared the staircase, keeping my steps as light as possible as I took the stairs one at a time.
Don’t betray me, feet.Now wasn’t the time to be clumsy.
It was my nose that betrayed me. Right as I reached the second step from the top, I sneezed. One of those super-loudahchoo’s that shook my entire body.
“I heard hot tea is good for the sinuses.”
That voice.
I hurried up the last step and looked around the parlor. In my time in Exalos, books had been brought in to fill most of the shelves, and more plushy reading chairs had been added, along with large rugs and curtains. Curtains that had been pulled shut, blocking out the remaining daylight and casting the room in darkness.
Not total darkness though.
The hearth had been lit, and the burning logs radiated a golden glow, drawing attention to the man sitting in an armchair in front of it. A man with pale blond hair.
“Lupin,” I whispered. Nerves twisted in my belly. It was never a good thing when he showed up. Each visit left me with more questions. More anxiety.
“Do you intend to hit me with that ladle?” Lupin smirked at me over his shoulder.
“Huh? Oh. No, of course not.” I lowered the weapon, er, ladle. “Um. Why are you here?”
“Your suspicion is offensive.” He stood from the chair and smoothed the front of his suit jacket. He wore a wintery blue suit with a pearl-white undervest. I had the sudden urge to call him Father Winter or something.
“Can you blame me?” I set the ladle on the side table beside the armchair. “Every time you show up, you spout off nonsense and leave me with a massive headache. So what is it this time? Come to tell me about a long-lost brother who’s destined to unalive me or something? Maybe an evil twin?”
Humor touched his expression. “A truly horrifying thought. One of you is more than enough.”
“Rude.”
Lupin neared the hearth and rested a hand on the mantle above it, staring down at the fire. “Do you recall during one of my earlier visits when I said that opening your café set a future into motion?”
I nodded. “You also said the future can only be estimated, never predicted.”
“Correct. Our destiny is woven within various threads. Some threads may lead to the same place, yet the journey getting there varies. And some lead to completely different places. The choices we make determines which path we find ourselves on.”
“Yep. There it is. I feel that headache already brewing.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Enough with the cryptic crap, Lupin. I’ve brained too much today, and your little riddles will make it explode.”
He tapped his index finger on the mantle. “Opening your café set several possible futures into motion. Created a multitude of paths, some interconnecting, some not. Attending the autumn ball sent you down one path. That path then led you here. To Exalos. And it’s here where a key piece of the puzzle will fall into place. Once it does, there’s no going back, Evan. Everything will change.”
A strange pressure pressed against my ribs. “Well, that’s not ominous at all. I’m guessing you won’t tell me what that something is?”
“Contrary to what you must think, I’m not an omnipotent being who can do whatever he wants. Even someone as powerful as I am has to answer to someone else. So as much as I’d like to tell you, I can’t. I’m already on thin ice as it is.”
“What do you mean?”
