Echoes Of Ink: A Midlife Urban Fantasy Adventure (The Seasoned Scribe Book 1) by JB Lassalle & Jen Lassalle

Author:JB Lassalle & Jen Lassalle [Lassalle, JB & Lassalle, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mighty Oak Publishing Services, LLC
Published: 2024-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

In the long, narrow kitchen adjoining the living area, the Guardian had prepared a feast. A whole chicken, its skin golden brown, sat on a wide platter surrounded by carrots, potatoes and mushrooms. Bits of herbs and spices clung to the assortment, filling the air with rosemary and thyme. A hint of caramelized sugar greeted my nostrils, beckoning me toward the food like a cartoon steam hand.

My mouth watered. Ash’s stomach emitted a loud, slow growl. Kida gripped the platter, leaving smudges of grime along the edges. It smelled so savory I didn’t care if she’d bathed in mud before cooking. I was going to devour that food.

“I found plates.” She took the platter through the archway that led to a small dining cubby and arranged it on the square table barely large enough for the four of us. Mismatched plates rested in front of each chair. Kida stepped to the side and presented the table to us, a deranged game show hostess from another world.

“You sit first, Scribe.”

Ash grunted, covering the sound with a cough.

“Thank you, Kida, but I’d prefer to get my daughter settled before I rest.” I helped Ash to the closest chair, noting that her legs wobbled, and she gripped the arms with white knuckles. “It looks like we’re missing utensils.”

"Utensils?" Kida asked, following me into the kitchen.

"Yes, see?" I held up a butter knife. "Forks, serving spoons, knives. Utensils."

Kida’s brow furrowed, then her silvery eyes widened.

"Yes, I remember now. They had those at the palace.”

"So, there's a palace?" Davis leaned in the doorway wearing a vivid green T-shirt. He tucked his hands into his front pockets. “Is that where you lived?”

“Once. A long time ago.” Kida’s voice held a note of sadness. She shook her head, as if releasing the emotion, and pointed at Davis's chest. “What do those words mean?”

"’Kiss me, I'm Irish’? It's a joke, an expression."

"Joke?" Kida followed me back to the dining room, waiting until I’d taken a seat to approach.

"Yeah, you know, a saying that makes you laugh or feel happy." Davis nudged past her to stand beside me. Taking the knife from my hand, he cut into the meat. “Nice job on the roasted bird. Do you like breast?”

"Davis, stop goading her." My brother was many things, including a talented artist and woodworker. But he was also a supreme troublemaker and, unlike me, incapable of masking his emotions. Sometimes, I envied his ability to be himself no matter the situation.

But not in this situation. I wasn’t sure why he wanted to get under her skin so badly. And until I had Ash, and the damned Guardian, settled, I couldn’t find out. So until then, I put on my peacekeeper hat.

"Kida, we have a lot of questions, and I’m not sure where to start. Maybe you could tell us more about your world?”

Kida wouldn’t sit. She crouched in her seat, filthy feet on the lovely velour cushions. I had a feeling she could spring into action at any moment. She ignored her fork, shoveling meat into her mouth with the vigor of one who seldom ate well.

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