Page 66 of Marked

“You must have a horseshoe up your butt, Em,” my brother said.

“I thought you always said it was a broomstick?” I stabbed my meat with a fork and cut off a piece.

Paul waved my comment away as if his past insults should be forgotten.

Never.

Ace had busied himself with finishing the meal. He ate quickly, practically shovelling the food in his mouth. He paused and lifted his head, his gaze met mine. “What?”

“You should try breathing in between mouthfuls. I don’t feel like saving your life tonight.”

“Ah…so you don’t reciprocate.” He pointed his fork at me. “You’re all take, no give.”

I leaned back in my chair and moved some of the food around on my plate with my fork. “I never said I wouldn’t save you. This isn’t about reciprocation. It’s about needlessly placing yourself in danger.”

He scoffed and took another bite. After he chewed and swallowed, he pointed at the empty plate with his fork. “This was good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Though I can’t help but be a little annoyed at your surprise.”

He placed his fork on the plate and straightened in his seat. “You just seemed so appreciative of my cooking, I assumed it was because you had nothing else of quality to compare it to.”

I blinked at him for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, I had been an average cook at best before Ace left. It was only after Sley came to town and shared her cooking tips that I had developed any skill.

Deciding on not responding to Ace at all, I turned to my brother. “You said you had news and needed to plan. Time to talk, brother.”

Paul nodded and dabbed his mouth clean with a napkin. It was silly really, he’d hardly eaten any of his meal. “Another body has been found.”

I pushed away from the table and bolted to my feet. “What the phaan, Paul? Why didn’t you lead with that?”

He had the audacity to shrug.

“You let us blather on about our story, but that could’ve waited,” I said.

He pushed back from the table to stand as well.

Ace stayed sitting and eyed the leftovers on the kitchen counter.

I rolled my eyes and waved my hand in the direction of the food.

Ace jumped up from his seat with his dish in his hands to get another helping and a stupid, small part of me delighted in knowing he enjoyed the meal.

Ugh.

I would die before I shared that thought.

Paul watched the scene with a grin spreading across his face. “Your story could’ve waited, true,” Paul said. “But so could mine. Shona won’t be any less dead from waiting the twenty minutes.”

He had a point.

“I don’t know much about Shona,” I said.

Paul nodded. “Shona was a galeon descendent as well. Also bonded. Her familiar was found a few feet away with no signs to indicate the cause of death.”

“Did they ever find Dita’s familiar?”

“Yes. Back at her house. She must’ve left her familiar behind, but it didn’t save the animal. It was also dead. There were also no signs of trauma on Dita’s familiar. So, we have to assume they died because their bonded galeon died.”

There hadn’t been a galeon death since the war with the phaanons, and the history books were vague on how they occurred. What wasn’t vague was the connection between a familiar’s life and that of their galeon. If one died, so did the other. There would be no visible wounds for the second death, because it was the death of the soul.