Page 77 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
Lies, lies, lies.
But with my blockade up, my thoughts wouldn’t be floating out to him right now, and I could tell he hadn’t lunged into my own mind for a taste of that subconscious truth that sat in its regal shrine.
“Well, good,” Steeler finally said on a stiff exhale, “because Garvis spent all week preparing his lesson plan for you, and Felicity’s currently destroying the kitchen in her attempts to make a three-course meal.”
“Well, good. Let’s go, then.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
There was no need for me to grab his hand this time. Not with his arm still locked tight around me.
The darkness simply picked us up and carried us away.
After Walking me to my room—empty, thank God—so that I could dump my remaining birdseed into Emelle’s feeder, Steeler whisked us straight into the lighthouse itself.
Here, Dazmine was glaring at Terrin from where she stood against the edge of the room, her body tense and ready to spring into action at any moment, like a rabid animal backed into a corner.
In the kitchen, Felicity clattered through the cupboards, singing a jaunty tune about a homeless sea monster amid boiling pots and sizzling pans. Next to the fireplace, Garvis gave me an awkward wave.
“Well, this is probably the most conflicting atmosphere I’ve ever witnessed,” Steeler muttered, withdrawing himself from me.
I ignored how his absence lingered around me like a cold sheet as Felicity spotted me, swung off the countertop, and leapt into my arms.
“Raynie! You’re here! I can’t wait for you to try my chickpea stew. Coco and I spent the week gathering herbs and spices for it, and I even nabbed a handful of peanuts for garnish.”
“Sounds like it’ll be delicious.” I made a show of inhaling the swirling scents of oregano and cumin before glancing over at Dazmine and lowering my voice. “How is she holding up?”
The monkey’s face turned solemn. “Not well. She dry-heaved for a good few minutes, then tried to get me to bitehishead off as soon as she recovered.” Felicity nodded at Terrin. “Which is gross, by the way. I don’t eat heads.”
“I can hear you both, you know,” Dazmine intoned, sending the briefest glance my way. “And I just think it’s funny that I askedfora hostage, not to betakenhostage.”
For once, Terrin’s smile was faltering.
“What more do you want from me, woman? I literally risked my life to come tell you the truth about your friend’s exile. Butyou tried to decapitate me before I could do so.” His non-smile turned into a downright glare. “So yeah, we had to bring you here where no one can hear me scream if you continue to try to decapitate me.”
“I’dhear you scream,” Steeler remarked, snatching a peanut from Felicity’s stock on the counter and popping it in his mouth before the monkey could beat his hand away.
“As would I,” said Garvis from the fireplace.
I winced but raised a hand. “As would I.”
“Truly, a male’s dreamiest end,” Terrin remarked without taking his eyes off Dazmine. “To bellow, not into a void, but straight into his friends’ ears.”
For the strangest slice of a second, a ripple of warmth went through me at the thought that Terrin might consider me a friend even though I didn’t remember a single interaction before last week.
Then Dazmine was turning all her spiteful, spitting rage onto Steeler.
“Brave of you to joke, when you’re the one who killed Fergus.”
The temperature in the room seemed to flake away. Even the flames behind Garvis fluttered, as if caught in all of our inhales.
“Do you deny it?” Dazmine asked, nostrils flaring, and even I cringed internally at the brazen way she faced him, her hands curled.
“No, I don’t deny it,” Steeler said finally, his posture tightening. “You want to know why?” When Dazmine didn’t answer, he hissed, “Because that little asshole was about to fillherbody with rot…” He didn’t have to point at me for everyone in the room to know who he was referring to. “Just like he did to your good old Mr. Fenway last year.”
Dazmine’s eyes widened at the same time mine did. Steeler took the opportunity to let out a mirthless laugh that rippled down my spine.
