Page 203 of Keldori By Daybreak

Then there was the bag of sandwich bagels I ordered from the food court. They were overpriced, but still cheaper than most of the other options.

All things considered, Maxwell should’ve been thanking me for taking it easy on him and his bank account.

“I would like to break his fingers anyway,” Ciarán said in my mind as we drove back towards the beach. He’d changed into his new jeans and t-shirt, but had pulled the old Von Leer hoodie back on anyway.

“Give it time. I’m sure he’ll give us a reason,” I assured him.

Ciarán’s thoughts hadn’t stopped buzzing since we’d left Maxwell’s office in a white research van. The bright lights, shops, and noises all fought for his attention, but he took it in stride, aided no doubt by his one day of Keldori memories.

My own thoughts felt flat. Too much had happened in the last day for me to feel or think anything anymore, but if we could get north, back to Keel Watch Harbor, Mom, the Rift, and Gams—

Then I could let myself feel again.

Maxwell parked in a lot atop a bluff that overlooked the beach and ocean. Ciarán climbed out of the back to retrieve the others from their hiding spot, but I stayed with my father.

“If he tries anything—” Ciarán warned in my head as he took the stairs down to the beach.

“You’ll break his fingers. I get it.”

“Not exactly, but he will wish I had.”

I settled back into the front seat. Maxwell kept his seatbelt on and his hands gripping the wheel. He stared straight ahead, and I was fairly certain he was trying to pretend I didn’t exist.

To be fair, he did have a lot of practice on that front.

“How long will the drive be?” I asked. The van, typically used for carting students and research equipment into the field, was definitely large enough to fit all of us, and probably Una too.

“About twenty hours if we don’t stop. Add in breaks and traffic, and it’ll be closer to twenty-four,” Maxwell said. “And then I have to drive back, mind you. I’m going to have to leave my work to my assistants.”

Twenty-four hours to Mom. I’d have to take a turn at the wheel if we wanted to drive straight through, but that would be fine.

Taking too long wasn’t an option. The mountains pulled at me, but so did the need to use the Skal building up in my system. If I held it in too long, I’d end up with ulcers again. If I let any go, the volcanos, already so dangerously close to their bursting point, might finally blow.

And every breath I took of Keldori’s air filled me with more Skal.

“How was the rest of your lecture tour?” I hated Maxwell Brenton, but I couldn’t stand the silence. It made the Skal in my blood harder to ignore.

“I will drive you to your mother, but I draw the line at small talk,” he said. “We are not friends. I am not your father. You will refer to me as Doctor Brenton, or nothing at all, and you better hope your fantasy world is real, because once this is over, I’m going to personally see to it that you are blacklisted from every geophysics institution in the country. If you even are interested in geophysics, that is.”

“I am,” I said blithely. His threats would’ve gotten under my skin a few weeks ago, but I was finding it difficult to let anything under my skin at all after Ergoth’s roots had wormed their way there. “I care more about saving my mother and grandmother though, so fine. Blacklist me. I don’t care.”

“Your mother will have to pay me back for the gas money to get there,” he snapped. “And the clothes and food and—”

“My friend died this morning,” I said, staring out the windshield at the ocean. “He sacrificed himself to save the people he loved and to save the world, and I watched him do it. But sure, Dr. Brenton. I’ll make sure my mom pays you back. She makes more than you do anyways.”

Maxwell fell silent.

“Your friend died?” he finally said.

“He did. Killed his sister too, but she was terrible.”

“Well that is a shame,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Wren.”

I scowled at him. “I don’t want your pity.”

“Fair enough.”

We ate our bagels in silence, but I preferred the bagels in Keel Watch Harbor that Ciarán’s aunt and uncle used to make.