Page 121 of Shifters Reckoning

“That’s a weakness, Emma. A man running a script he’s sure of doesn’t improvise. You do something he hasn’t already seen, and he won’t know how to react.” Her gray eyes pinned me. “One second. That’s all you can buy yourself. Make it count.”

“You could’ve just said good luck.”

“Good luck is for people who don’t have intel.” She squeezed my hand so hard my fingers hurt.

“This isn’t goodbye,” I whispered, knowing full well it might be.

“Yeah.” She swallowed. “Come back and tell me I was right about the left hand,” she said. “That’s an order. In this hospital room, I outrank you.”

I scrunched my nose. “You outrank me in every room.”

“Finally. She learns.” She smoothed her thumb over the back of my hand and released me. “Go. Your librarian has been prowling around since supper.”

Dr. Wise was in the study with an archival box and three empty cups of Earl Grey tea, by the smell of it. She didn’t waste my time or hers. “I’ve now read every fragment twice more since Sophia fell asleep in the mess hall,” she said. “I’ve been looking for the price.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t defined and couldn’t be found.”

“Well, I suppose it’s because I’m a historian, and I expect to find a record or a notation somewhere.” She shoved her glasses upward. “And I clearly cannot help myself.”

I winked at her. “You’re the best at what you do. There’s no denying that. Any final pointers for me before I go?”

She removed her spectacles, and the corners of her eyes drooped wearily, though her eyes flashed. “I’m not sure I have anything else I can add. Nothing that will help you, I’m afraid.” She rummaged in her satchel. “But I can give you this.” She held out the small polished stone she’d shown me before.

“Your power-up relic? I can’t take that.”

“You might need it during your fight.” She pressed it into my palm and folded my fingers over it. “It’s yours. Also,” she raised a finger, “I think your mom has a crush on one of the older shifters here?”

I glanced at the relic in my hand and then grinned at the older woman. “You’re kidding me. Who is it?”

“Flynn’s father,” she said.

“My mother is interested in Jasper’s father?”

Dr. Wise blinked. “Oh, oh, they are brothers, aren’t they?” She laughed. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“I suppose I’ll need to follow up on that when I get back, huh?” Of all the news I thought Dr. Wise would have, I wouldn’t have guessed it would be gossip about my mother’s love life.

She put her spectacles back on. “For God’s sake, girl, make it back so you can come back to argue with me about my new filing system. Don’t break your mother’s heart.”

“Oh, I doubt I would ever presume to know more about organizing shifter history and lore than you do, Dr. Wise.” I made no comment about the other. I wasn’t sure I could do it without breaking down.

Dr. Wise moved volumes from one side of the desk to the other, and then she fidgeted with her paperwork.

“Thank you for being you,” I murmured. Then I kissed the top of her gray head, and she let me.

My mother was bustling in the mess hall kitchen. She had made cinnamon rolls. Of course she had. They were my favorite. She didn’t burst out crying when she spotted me crossing the thin floor.

Neither did I.

“I packed you something.” She pressed a small, napkin-wrapped shape into my hand.

I didn’t open it. It had to be one of the sweet pastries, fresh out of the oven. Cooking was the love language she’d adopted since she’d come to live in Six-Mile.

“For after,” she said. “You’ll be hungry after. From what I understand, you’re always hungry after all the big magic. Plus, you’ve been hungry after every hard thing since you were four.”

“Mom…”

“Don’t.” She took my face in her hands. “I already did the crying. I did it last night, all of it, so that tonight, I could send my daughter out with dry eyes, a freshly baked good, and all of my heart.”