Weaving Threads of Feeling: the Calladon Chronicles, #2 by Sage Marrow

Author:Sage Marrow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sage Marrow

JAN SHOWED ME THAT A SANOAK WAS IN the center of Deep Haven and hosted many hollowed-out rooms that the Pack retired to sleep in during the night. Luckily, I was given an empty room at the third level—with an actual bed! I couldn't help but do an excited victory dance that made Jan laugh. No more sleeping on rocks and twigs was gratefully accepted. Malin had to climb up to the twenty-first level. I sniggered at that bit of news, and he had playfully pouted that I had mortally wounded his feelings, smacking me on the leg with his tail.

After the burning, I fell asleep that night with fire lacing in and out of my dreams, and an incessant guilt dragging me into the ground like a black hole. I was startled awake by whispering voices.

"Shh! Shh! Dummy, you wake her up!"

There was a dull thud, as if someone had been clonked on the head, and a second, defensive voice hissed back, "You the loudmouth!"

Followed by a loud, bigger thump as someone was undoubtedly tackled to the ground.

I sat up, yawning, rubbing one eye—

Five pairs of eyes instantly snapped to me, wide with fright as I blinked blearily to make sense of why five children were in my room, three of them piled onto the end of the feather-stuffed bed, two of them frozen while scuffling on the ground in a mock-fight.

I screamed instinctively, drawing my knees up to my chest, and five voices chorused me before scrambling for the door in a mad frenzy. They impeded each other's get-a-way in their panic, resulting in several collisions and loud exclamations of, "You dumb-dumb!"

One small boy, however, swayed where he sat, his thumb in his mouth, small dove-tail slowly rising up and down. Oh great. Too young to know where to go, and he had probably been forgotten by his sibling. I sighed as I slid off the bed, picking him up and moved for the door. It was either up to the thirteenth or twenty-first floor for Rya or Malin, respectively, or down to the first for Jan.

Easy enough to figure that one out.

Thankfully I managed the stairs in the dark without too much difficulty. Jan was fast asleep, on his stomach, as per usual. I found my eyes moving in and out of focus as I watched him, nearly falling asleep on my feet. I hissed out his name, taking care to be a good distance from him. I had the previous unpleasant experience of having to wake him up one night for his turn at watch, drawing him from a nest of bad dreams, and I was lucky he had recognized me before he had beheaded me.

Slowly lifting one eyelid, Jan turned a crimson iris my way.

"Who does this belong to?" I yawned, holding up the kid.

He took one look—the boy waved merrily at him with his free hand, his other thumb shoved in his mouth—and then laughed for a full two minutes before he could even say a word.

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