A Storm of Paper Starlings

17. Unstuck

I go to bed early, praying Sean Morrigan won't plague me in my dreams. I can't bear to see his mother with her broken eyes.

When I'm finally woken by the screeching murder victim at ridiculous o'clock, the only dream I remember is walking through a desert with Daniel, him looking for something, and me telling him there's nothing to find but sand. It was as frustrating as last night's conversation.

I wasted hours trying to get to sleep, brewing myself into a pointless rage. Daniel can keep his own secrets for all I care, but those secrets are mine. I'll probably need to hike to the river just to get a signal good enough to call him, and even if I do, I doubt he'll answer his phone.

Glenda isn't in the kitchen or the laundry, so I check the breakfast room for signs of life. Boxes of cereal smother the sideboard, along with jugs of milk and juice, but nobody is about. I help myself to cornflakes and fill a glass from the rack with orange juice.

I lean close to get a better look at the stuck cup. The base and stem are made of wood, smooth under my fingertips. A silver vine curls from the bottom of the metal bowl, twisting itself around the stem towards the base. Etched symbols and swirls decorate the outside of the bowl. Without thinking, I turn the goblet to examine the symbols on the other side.

It comes free in my hand.

I stare at it—the stuck cup—unstuck and in my hands. I didn't even try to move it, not really. How did it happen? Maybe the family is playing a trick on me... the twins' idea of a prank. I scan the room for hidden cameras because an outlandish prank is more believable than an outlandish artefact. If the cup is special, it means I'm special too. My fingers tingle, the strange sensation running up my arm like a shiver. Something shimmering and irreversible blooms inside me.

Am I the special guest?

A golden sheen in the bottom of the bowl gives the impression of being half-filled with a clear yellow liquid, but there's nothing inside apart from wiggly writing, like the Hebrew on the tree stumps. Embedded in the bottom, two small diamond shapes lay flush and smooth. I know I have something important and magical in my hands, but I'm not ready to share my discovery yet. Not when there'll be questions I don't know how to answer. Maybe Ezra loosened it after all. I return the goblet and sit alone to eat my breakfast in the blossoming daylight.

Sundays are Glenda's day off, so when I take my breakfast things to the kitchen, I find Archer scraping carrots.

I stuff my bowl and glass into the empty dishwasher. "Do you want a hand?"

"Could do with a tea," he says hopefully. "And you can peel the spuds if you want."

I fill the kettle and flip the switch. I watched Glenda yesterday, so it doesn't take long to find what I need. With the tea made, I grab the bowl of potatoes and get peeling.

"Why did Eden freak out about your neighbours moving in at night?"

"Did she?" He shrugs. "You must admit, it's weird... moving house in the dead of night."

"What were they like? Did you see?"

"Yeah. Seth was creeping around outside trying to fix his tent." He laughs, then shudders. "I thought he was an axe murderer. Anyway, there was a woman... long red hair, and an old man, probably her dad or something. I didn't see anyone else moving in, but they had loads of removal men, considering there were only two lorries."

"How far away is this place?"

"Just beyond the south field. Not far from the clumps."

"The what now?"

"Two ancient hills with clumps of old beech trees on top. Grandad will give you a history lesson if you ask him nicely. Or even if you beg him not to."

Archer's a wizard in the kitchen. He's prepped two enormous dishes of vegetables, drizzled with oil and ready for roasting before I've even finished peeling the potatoes.

"I've got time for a walk," says Archer, finishing his tea. "I can show you where the clumps are."

AUTHOR NOTE: Thanks so much for reading. Have a great day! 😊