Page 40 of The Hidden
I hear the faintest tinkling giggle, and I glare at the air all around me. I push up onto my feet and dust myself off, grumbling about hiring the Ghostbusters and how Nadi will be sorry. I unfold the thin, very delicate feeling cloth in my hands and run my gaze over the images that are printed there. My eyes hone in on the Quietus mountain range. There is a purple spot on the map a few inches away from where the foothills start. I also notice the demarcation on the map for the Amaranthine Mountains. There is a greenyou are heredot, and I know that’s exactly what it is as it’s nestled on a cliff that has a big lake on the other side of it.
The Amaranthine Mountain range is surprisingly not far from where I am now. They’re in the opposite direction that the purple dot is telling me I need to go.Why am I such a bird brain?Why did I think the Amaranthine Mountains were so far away? Zeph flew here with me after he attacked me. He wouldn’t have been far from safety; wouldn’t have risked his precious life and the lives of his pride by doing something reckless like fly where it’s dangerous.
I fold up the map and lean against the stone wall. I could go to the Ouphe and see if they have any suggestions on how to get the gate to work. But if they don’t, I could just end up in a similar or worse situation than I’m in now. Yeah, Nadi said they’remy people,but who is she kidding; I have no people here. I’m toohighbloodfor the gryphons and will probably be too gryphon for the Ouphe. I stare at the stone doors, lost in thought.
Or, I think to myself, I could just go to the gate on my own. Zeph and Nadi made it seem like I need some kind of ancient instruction manual to get it to work, but I sure as fuck didn’t have anything like that when I was pulled into this world. I didn’t do anything to get through the gate other than get electrocuted and knocked unconscious, maybe just my presence will unlock it? Or maybe when I get there, theonswitch will be super obvious. Warmth fills me with that thought, and I decide that just going to the gate is the plan that makes the most sense. I mean, worst case scenario, if I can’t get the gate to work, I can always go meet up with the Ouphe. No harm, no foul, and none the wiser.
Determination sweeps through me, and I fist the map in my hand and head for the stairs. First stop, the kitchen, to steal as much food as possible without getting caught.
* * *
“Where the fuck have you been?” snarls at me as I walk into my room, and I jump at the sound of it. If he hadn’t just scared the shit out of me, I’d walk over and high five his use of the word fuck. He’s getting good with it.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I demand as my eyes land on where Zeph is perched on my bed.
“I’m waiting for you,” he rumbles, and the sound sends a fluttering of all kinds of yummy sensations through my stomach. He makes a similar noise right before he’s about to come, and my body lights up with a fond remembrance of that fact. “We need to talk about what happened.”
“No. You need to get the fuck out of my room!” I snap as I step all the way inside and shut the door behind me. I debate the best way to deal with the bag full of food I have my arm slung through. If I set it down, it will draw attention to it, but if I keep talking to him with it slung over my shoulder, he’s bound to notice that too.Shit.
“It’s not what you’re thinking it is!” he defends, and I round on him like a boa constrictor does its prey.
“Oh it’s not?” I ask with faux confusion and wide eyes. “You didn’t step in and protect the weaker half in a dominance challenge?”
“No, I stepped in and stopped a training exercise gone wrong,” he argues.
“Ahhhh, a training exercise. Is that what that was? Funny, I’ve never seen Sutton start beating on a trainee with no warning before,” I point out, my voice dripping with imitation sugar.
As Sutton’s name leaves my mouth, Zeph shoots off the bed, and a deep growling starts in his chest. I take a challenging step toward him.
“She attacked me without warning or provocation. She made it personal when she told me to stay away from Ryn and that she dreams of my death. I responded to herchallengewith the same level of force that she would have if the roles were reversed. This was absolutely about dominance, and you stuck your beak where it didn’t belong and probably just made things worse for me.”
Zeph opens his mouth to say something and suddenly pauses. “What do you mean probably made it worse for you?”
“You think she’s going to come for me head on now like she did today? No. That sneaky parrot will attack when I least expect it. And who the fuck knows when that will happen, but I can’t watch my back around all the fucking people here who hate me, so she’ll probably win. Are you going to step in and save me, Zeph?” I mock.
Zeph runs his hands through his long black curls and huffs. “I’ll talk to her.”
I snort a humorless laugh. “Good thinking. That’ll definitely solve the problem.” I drop the bag of food from my shoulder onto the ground discreetly, but Zeph’s gaze immediately zeros in on it.
“What is that?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
He breathes in a deep inhale, dousing my hope that he’ll take my word for it. “Why do you have a bag of food?”
I watch his face morph into understanding as the question leaves his mouth. And he closes the distance between us. “Where the rut do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going home. I don’t belong here, and I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Pain flickers in Zeph’s amber gaze, but it’s quickly replaced by anger. “You told Ryn that you would stay here until he was back. You vowed,” he accuses.
“No, I didn’t, I just said I would, now I’ve changed my mind. I want to go home, and you promised you’d take me. So take me. I’m ready to leave.”
“Your word means so little that you would say something and then go back on it just like that?” Zeph looks at me like I’m something gross he stepped in. Since he’s practically been doing that since I met him, I remain unfazed by it.
I raise my eyebrows and give him my bestpot calling the kettle blackside-eye. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you say something along the lines of when we get back here, you’ll take me home?” I throw my hands out to punctuate my point. “And yet I’m still fucking here.”
“That was before,” he yells at me.
