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Seren pouted at the empty bed, then glanced hopefully at Lark.
“I’m sure I can hold off—” Her stomach rumbled again.
Lark tugged a T-shirt from the armchair in the corner, the one Seren usually dropped her sleepwear in, and sauntered out of the bedroom, the shirt dwarfing her adorably. Seren wondered if she’d survive this dinner and the burning desire to tear the oversized garment to pieces.
By the time Seren put on a pair of gray sweats and a tank and descended to the kitchen, something that smelled amazing was already sizzling in the pan on the stove.
“Bacon?” Seren sniffed and embraced Lark from behind, placing her chin on the narrow shoulder.
Goddess, she wanted to bundle this woman up, keep her safe forever, never let her come to harm…
“You have most of the ingredients for eggs Benedict, and it’s honestly closer to breakfast than dinner. We can probably do with some of the good bread instead of the English muffin…”
Lark stirred ingredients into what was starting to look like a pot of hollandaise sauce.
“I know I did nothing good in my former life to deserve you—” Seren heard her own words and stopped mid-sentence. Lark tensed under her touch.
“You have,” Lark said quietly. “Even if you don’t believe it.”
Seren stepped back and sat on the chair closest to the stove.
“We can talk about it now, or we can…” She waved her hand in a forward motion.
Lark stirred the pot of sauce. Bacon sizzled in the pan. Crow House held its breath. On the second floor, a door opened quietly, carefully.
“You did nothing wrong back then, Seren. Or should I say… Gwen?”
18
LARK, EVERYTHING CRUMBLING & CONFESSIONS
SPOTTED ON THE ISLAND!
It’s a very slow news day—watch me jinx it by just posting this—so we here at the Caw have decided to walk the newly busy streets of Crow’s Nest and try to spot some familiar faces.
Granted, it is a bit unfair, since we at the Caw know everyone in town, but some faces are quite interesting to spot out and about.
Rhiannon Crowhart and the construction crew were noticed putting what could be the finishing touches on the Crow, Cat, & Possum. Even under the construction tarp, the building is imminently impressive, and we can’t wait to see it restored to its former glory.
Councilwoman Crowhart and Judge Astor were seen leaving the town hall, no doubt discussing the newest rounds of potential book bans that are once again threatening the Crow’s Nest Library. You’d think after the departure of John Moss, things would quiet down on that front. And yet, here we go again.
Mayor Allende and her Chief of Staff, the delectable Lachlan Vesely, were spotted in Market Square discussing the potential extension of the plaza itself to accommodate more vendor stalls for festivals and fairs. It is our understanding that the meetings have been productive, with most vendors welcoming more quality facilities and modernized stalls.
We here at the Caw also caught sight of another familiar, though less appreciated face on Dragons, Ms. Dagmar Rathcross, CEO of Rathcross Foundation, as she was leaving the docked ferry. While we don’t know what business brought her back to Dragons, we would rather she not stay too long.
With that, we are retreating back to our office and pretending this outing wasn’t an excuse to get a box of freshly baked cupcakes from, well, the Cupcake. Thank you, Deryn Crowhart!
Watch this space and go get those pastries, they are yummy!
—Crow’s Caw
The name was in the darn paper. The town’s own Crow’s Caw, which Lark read religiously every morning, which broke the news, was now breaking her.
There, in black on the grainy off-white recycled paper of the Caw, was Magnus’s last name, and bile rose up in Lark’s stomach. Too fast, too sharp, cutting and burning like acid all the way to her mouth, almost spilling out of her onto Crow’s Brew’s polished floor. Any second now, her mouth would open, and it would pool to the ground along with her blood. Lark could see it, could still feel the last time it had happened.
Ten years ago, ten years ago, he’s not here, he cannot be here…
The door jingled open, the tiny bell once the bringer of good news into Lark’s life when she would come in to see Seren, to watch her work, to fantasize about those strong, long-fingered hands… Today instead, it brought a blast from the past that detonated Lark’s entire life.
