Page 66 of Claim the Light
It looks like there’s some sort of washroom through a door on the left but I don’t want to know what could be festering within the cracked, white sink I can see sitting against the far wall.
“Never mind,” I whisper cheerfully. “It won’t take me long to make it spick and span.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl. Loudly.
Micah gives me a rueful glance. “Maybe we should try flying all the way back after all.”
“No.” I catch hold of his arm. He can’t hide the dark rings beneath his eyes, which contradict the hours he spent sleeping this afternoon. “Let’s rest here for a short while at least. Then we can consider flying back. Isaac and Beatrix know where we are—if they’re worried, they can come find us—and my hunger can wait. You’re my priority. At the very least, if you get some more rest, you’ll be stronger for the remainder of the flight.”
I reach forward and shove at the edge of the door before angling myself through the gap, trying to ignore the way the dust flies up around me.
Glancing back, I check that Micah’s following me.
He steps inside and that’s when the light around us changes so suddenly that I swing back to the cabin’s interior.
I stop still, barely able to breathe.
The whole place has transformed.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
The cabin’s floor is now made of gleaming wood and the walls are painted navy like the darkest night sky but with golden filigree weaving across them that makes them appear bright.
The fireplace is filled with a warm fire that lights up the iron work around its edges along with the mahogany mantelpiece above it. The table is laden with food and jugs and glittering tableware, all sitting on top of a golden tablecloth. Ornate table legs carved with the shape of vines peek out from beneath the golden overlay.
Every chair around the table has a plush, velvet seat, also golden in color. And the far room—what was a dirty washroom—is now a vast bedroom containing a bed so large, I can only see one side of it.
My voice wobbles. “What kind of sorcery is this?”
Micah takes a quick step into the room, his footfalls quiet on the lush rug that now rests on the floor inside the door. He turns from one side of the room to the other, his head held high and slightly tilted, as if he’s listening and inhaling and sensing with every part of his body.
His declaration comes out in a hushed murmur. “This is old magic.”
I stare at him. “Are you sure?”
Isaac mentioned that this cabin belonged to an ancient being, but I never imagined it could be a place of old magic.
“I feel it.” Micah gives me a smile that lights up his eyes and banishes the shadows that were gathering beneath them. “I feel it in my blood.”
He said that his mother may have had old magic running through her veins and now I have no doubt about it. His entire demeanor has instantly changed, as if his body is reacting to something in our environment—or, maybe, our environment is reacting to his presence. Possibly both.
The dark circles under his eyes are gone. So is the hunch that was dragging down his shoulders.
He inhales a deep breath, so deep that his chest expands beyond its already broad width. “I feel stronger here.”
Prowling around the room, he brushes his hand across the tops of the chairs, along the mantelpiece, and finally over the windowsill.
A glance through the window tells me that the light from within the cabin isn’t spilling through onto the porch.
The back of my neck tingles in response to the energy in the room.
Micah surprises me when he pulls out a chair. “Hungry?”
I eye the food. It looks like roast chicken and vegetables—carrots, potatoes, corn cobs, and peas—all neatly set out in dishes near a gravy boat. It’s difficult to withstand the mouthwatering scents rising from it, but I make myself pause.
“Is it safe?” I ask. “What if it’s enchanted?”
“That’s a fair concern,” he replies, his expression sobering a little as he reaches for the nearest bowl containing bright-green peas. He smells it first, then picks one carefully out, dabbing it to his tongue.
