Blackbird in the Reeds (The Rowan Harbor Cycle Book 1) by Sam Burns

Author:Sam Burns [Burns, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-03T22:00:00+00:00

His eyes opened to reveal the pale gold ceiling of his apartment. No bird, no forest, no Oak.

How was he supposed to bring up such a thing in conversation without sounding like the concussion had done him some serious damage?

Hey Gran, is there an ancient, sentient oak tree in the forest? With, like, legs and arms, and green, glowing eyes?

She’d have him down to the clinic for a CAT scan before he could even finish the question.

He stumbled out of bed and through his morning routine, shaving off the scruff he’d left the previous few days. He managed not to cut himself too badly, considering that he was doing it left-handed.

In the shower, he spent a little time thinking about what Oak had said about the leader not using their power over the other founders. Had they meant that somehow, he was unable to affect the families of the other town founders? Maybe he couldn’t affect anyone in town. That was a beautiful thought, but it didn’t seem too likely.

Most days he still had trouble reconciling that it was a real thing, that he could accidentally manipulate people that way. He’d never been one of those kids who believed in magic and fairies and that kind of thing. He’d wanted to be an astronaut, not a wizard. Witch, whatever.

He wondered what the difference was.

After the disastrous painting class, he’d had to admit to himself that there was something different about him. Something that meant he needed to avoid prolonged exposure to other people, or risk destroying their lives.

If he was somehow unable to affect Jesse, that would be the best thing that had ever happened to him. He thought of Wade Hunter—surly, future sheriff—for a moment as well. He glanced down at his cast, the same blue as the man’s eyes. They were pretty.

He sighed and almost face-palmed into the cast. The town was insane, and it was rubbing off on him. A static shock could not predict the future. Not even if Devon had a real, magic power, and there was a sentient oak tree in the forest.

Right?

He managed to find his way downstairs and found a strawberry tart sitting on the table for him. Well, he assumed it was for him. He took it, anyway, and as he ate, he poked his head out to find Salli and Gran working with a young woman on a knitting project that looked like a combination of delicate lace and something a cat might cough up. She looked a little weepy, so he figured the hairball part wasn’t intentional.

Since Gran and Salli also looked a little stressed, he figured tea was in order. It was a habit he’d gotten from Gran, actually. While every other person in the country drank gallons of coffee, she’d always had a cupboard full of loose-leaf tea.

Ordering tea in American restaurants was a crapshoot on the best of days, but the result had been that Devon could drink any kind of tea. He still appreciated the good stuff, but the kind made from teabags full of dust didn’t even make him cringe anymore.

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