160 Grac entor
160 Grace: Mentor
“And leave them where, exactly?” Owen asks, his massive form somehow fitting into Lyre’s cramped bedroom without bumping into everything. Bun clings to him like a koala, her tiny face buried in his neck. Her chubby fingers twist into the collar of his shirt, refusing to let go.
“With Grace, far from this territory. I already explained this.” Lyre paces the tight space, which is about three steps long on the other side of the bed.
Outside the door, there’s a shuffling of small feet and not–so–hushed whispers.
“It’s not fair,” Sara whines. “Owen just got here and she’s hogging him.”
“Is she gonna turn him into a toad again?” Jer’s voice rises with curiosity…
“Shut up,” Ron hisses. “Get back to the living room and just wait patiently.”
I focus back on the conversation in front of me.
“What are we even looking for?” Owen asks, patting Bun’s back. “The notification was vague at best.”
Lyre turns, her cat eyes flashing and sharp teeth more apparent than normal as she snarls, “If they know there’s an agent of Chaos, they should damn well say what it is.”
Owen’s reply comes out measured and calm, but the bass in his voice still sends a chill down my spine. “They won’t. It’s up to us to figure it out.”
I really can’t get over how someone who makes candied fruit for children can sound so much like he’s planning a murder. Nature’s cruel joke–giving the gentlest soul the voice of a hitman.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Lyre snarks.
Owen flinches a little. He’s not pale and cringing every time she looks his way. anymore, and I wonder how they got so close after the toad incident. Still, it’s clear he has fear of the rainbow–haired woman by the way he avoids her
I would, too, if she ever turned me into something croaky. 1
anger.
“Is this connected to the massacre? Or perhaps the sanguimancer?” Owen asks after
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160 Grace Mentor
an awkward period of silence.
“No.” Lyre’s eyes flick to me as she frowns. “It’s probably not about the massacre. It’s about the arcanic storm Chaos threw down when he came to visit our girl here.”
Owen’s head jerks toward me, his silver–gray eyes going wide. “You met Chaos?”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling like a kid who accidentally started a forest fire–and didn’t know about it. “Seems like it?”
“Grace…” Owen steps toward me, his movement causing Bun to lift her head and stare in my direction. His voice drops to a scary rumble. “Are you okay?”
I lift my hands and force a laugh. “I’m fine. It was just a dream. Nothing happened to me. More importantly, what’s an agent of Chaos, exactly?”
Lyre shrugs, leaning against her dresser. “Could be anything. A person. A monster. An object left behind. Even an entire town.”
“Could even be an open rift,” Owen chimes in, bouncing Bun gently as she starts to fuss.
I blink, feeling the familiar sensation of not understanding what they’re saying. “Wait- what’s a rift?”
Owen opens his mouth to answer, but Lyre cuts him off with a single sharp word: “Plausibility.”
He snaps his mouth shut.
She sighs, gesturing vaguely at me. “She doesn’t have full access yet.”
Owen glances at me, his intimidating frown somehow managing to look apologetic. “Sorry. Another time.”
My jaw tightens. This stupid plausibility thing is the most cryptic bullshit I’ve ever heard. Almost worse than the drivel coming out of Rafe’s mouth when he tried to
convince me to go to Forest Springs. 1
Ugh. Rafe.
I’ll have to see him again, too, when I go back.
I’m not looking forward to it.
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160 Gract otor
I blink, my brain catching on her phrasing. “Wait, failing the mission?”
I absorb this, trying to fit these cosmic concepts into my painfully ordinary
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