Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
I touch the tree, and my palm heats when it hits the bark. The tree feels so warm and alive that I end up putting both palms on the main trunk. I glance around and count a few more just like this one. They almost look like several sticks stacked up against the bricks protecting the animals or creating a sort of cage. They aren’t trees I would normally see in the Pacific Northwest.
I don’t know what makes me do it, maybe frustration, curiosity, or just a dumb decision, but I climb up to the spot in the middle of the tree and sit. I hold onto the old branches. It’s somewhat flat, almost like this used to be a bench or something.
I smile. The view’s perfect. It’s the bar my brother frequented and it’s my new home even if it is a bit strange just like it’s owner.
“Hey!” A loud voice shouts. “Nobody sits in the tree without permission, it’s used for other purposes.” A man is walking toward the tree, the groundskeeper, I think. He’s wearing green working clothes with brown gloves, and he’s holding a shovel that I’m not entirely sure he’s not going to wield in the air toward me. I mean it at least makes sense that somebody takes care of this idyllic little getaway behind the bar and between the streets.
“Sorry.” I look over my shoulder and back away slowly. “I just thought…it would be nice.”
Rat starts to make a ton of noise then throws his nut like a petulant child. I don’t dare laugh.
“My apologies.” The groundskeeper tilts his head then looks between me and the squirrel like the animal is the boss and the groundskeeper is just managing things for him. “Sit wherever you want, ma’am, my apologies.”
The old man scurries off, shovel in hand. Rat retrieves his nut then comes back and actually sits next to me.
“I have to admit, I’m not the Disney princess sort, but you’re super cute.” I reach out and lightly touch his head, and I swear the damn thing looks up and smiles at me then sighs.
Weird.
I’ve never even had a pet.
Other than the naked cat upstairs, that is. Which reminds me, he probably needs to be fed again. Where does Cyrus keep his cat food?
I make a mental note to ask if I need to figure all that out since the cat seems to be attached, and so does Rat. Of the animals I’d met they all seemed attached, well except for the mean cow, which Cyrus assured me actually used acts of violence to say “hi”.
“It was a weird day, Rat. A very weird day.” I don’t know why I’m talking to a squirrel.
Apparently, this is what I’ve come to; plus he wouldn’t think I was crazy if I suddenly told him I saw his tree burning or that earlier when looking at Dag I felt nothing but chaos in my soul, an unsettling storm I still have issues coming to grips with.
Rat moves closer, then closer again, until finally he rests a paw on my thigh, before scurrying off again.
My imagination must be strong here.
The wind suddenly picks up and roars around us in a chaotic rhythm. I see it in my mind’s eye. A tree on an island snapping in half falling over for no reason. I frown and hear myself whisper. “Why?”
“Because.” I hear an answer in the wind. “Chaos demands it.”
I fall out of the tree and land so hard that I hit my head against the ground. The whisper was hoarse, full of so much pain that my chest hurts and my hands shake. It feels like someone just spoke into my brain.
“What the hell are you doing? You scared the shit out of the groundskeeper,” comes Cyrus’s voice.
I rub my head and get up to my knees, he pulls me to my feet. He’s changed into a black sweater and black jeans, but he’s in a pair of Birkenstocks which frankly would look ridiculous on most people.
Why am I staring down like a lunatic and admiring his feet?
The grass next to it is hypnotizing. I start to sway a bit.
“Careful.” He tugs me toward him roughly. “You could get hurt. You are in unfamiliar territory.
”Sorry, this isn’t the most normal environment.” He looks back at the mountains and frowns as a storm starts to build over Mount Olympus. “Anyway, you want to go to the warehouse where we keep the collections.”
I nod.
He inclines his head and lets out a rough exhale, how it’s possible for his dark hair to look so immaculate is intimidating in and of itself. “Follow me.”
I have a feeling I’m not going to like this, but I follow him anyway. We go around the side of the house and to a large blacked out building and then through another set of doors after the first entryway until we’re in a dark hall with torches lining the sides. It feels like I’m in an actual Egyptian temple.