King Cave (Page 66)

Cahal stared.

Vivian blinked.

And Ezra continued eating.

Hopefully that was enough abstract information to distract them from the fact I hadn’t mentioned a damn thing about my younger years when I was hiding in the Com community. I picked up my spoon and quickly scooped up some banana pudding, since Ezra’s spoonfuls were twice as big as mine and were making it quickly disappear. Our spoons scraped against each other’s just as he took the last bit.

“I only got one bite,” I grumbled, scowling as his spoon rose to his lips. “I was talking, Ezra.”

He stared at his spoonful, and then sighed, handing it over.

I dropped my utensil, grabbing his, and hummed in pleasure as banana exploded across my tastebuds. “Thank you.”

He shrugged and grabbed my coffee cup off my tray, since his was long gone. There was half left in mine, but I didn’t mind since I had a Coke to wash down the rest of my food. I put his spoon back on his tray and picked up my fork — as Ezra sipped at my heavily creamed and sugared coffee — slicing off some off my pancake. “I’ve never been to California,” I said cordially to his parents, not forgetting they were there this time. “Ezra’s told me his favorite parts about it, but what made you choose to live there in the beginning?” I placed my slice of pancake in my mouth, looking up to them politely.

Vivian’s mouth was slightly parted, her eyes darting back and forth between us. My chewing slowed as my eyebrows puckered in confusion, my eyes darting to Cahal. He was watching Ezra, who in turn was staring at my plate, eyeing the remaining food there. Absently, I pushed my tray to the side, farther from his reach, while pushing the full fruit bowl in the center closer to him, as my eyes moved back and forth between his parents.

Cahal cleared his throat, apparently just realizing they had been silent for too long after my question. “That’s where I chose my home base. I enjoy the weather.”

A perfectly non-descriptive answer.

Which I ignored, asking, “Mrs Zeller, is something wrong?”

Ezra’s head snapped up from the food, obviously hearing the caution in my tone.

Her finger started to lift, pointing, but Cahal’s hand quickly covered hers, lowering it back to the table, and he murmured, “She’s fine. She’s just in shock.”

She was staring at our food, which we had managed to put pretty much all away.

“You should see us when we’re really hungry.”

Ezra’s head cocked. “Is that all, Mom?”

She blinked. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Only shock.”

Lie, then truth.

My gaze narrowed, following hers. She was staring at my coffee cup in Ezra’s hand. Casually, I lifted it from his grasp, ignoring his grumbling to not drink it all, and took a sip. Watching her. Her eyes widened marginally, her heart rate accelerating.

Ezra’s hand halted in trying to get it back, and his gaze slammed to her, apparently hearing the same thing. “Mom?” His head cocked, staring at me when she didn’t answer. He blinked. Blinked again, his eyes going to the cup I held, tapping my fingers against it. I had no clue what was going on. But Ezra stilled, eyes widening before hooding, his heart rate shooting off.

Glancing at all of them, I murmured into the quiet, “Do I want to know what we’ve done wrong now?”

Ezra’s chuckle was breathy and, placing an elbow on the table and leaning heavily on it, he used his hand to cover his mouth. “Probably not.”

“And still, I do.”

That odd chuckle again as he flicked a finger at the coffee cup. “I forgot.”

Truth.

“Forgot what?”

His eyes went to his parents, hand still over his mouth. “It means nothing.”

Not so much the truth.

“It took you long enough to remember.” Cahal rested back in his chair, arms resting over his middle. “You did it in front of my group the day Jacobs and Merrick arrived.”

Again, Ezra chuckled. “That’s right. It makes sense now.” I was pretty sure I had never heard him make that sound before. It was more of a nervous gesture than an actual laugh.

“Um, hello?” I stated quietly, placing down the coffee cup that had created this mess. “I would love to be enlightened.”

Ezra’s gaze darted to mine, holding there. “Sharing a drink with another Mystical is a gesture that you trust one other with your lives.”

I stared. “I think I’m missing the issue here. Of course we trust each other with our lives. We’re part of our four.” And the big deal is?

“And?” Cahal hedged, head cocking.

Ezra cleared his throat. “It’s really only a big deal if you do it in front of others during a large gathering like a meal or a party.”

Still, I stared.

Cahal coughed.

Ezra’s head tilted back and forth, and he said quietly behind his hand, eyes on mine, “And the symbolic gesture is done when two people are,” he paused, “courting one another.” My mouth gaped, and he added quickly, “One partner initiates it, pretty much telling any other suitors vying for the other partner’s attention to back off, and when the other partner drinks from the cup it means they accept the offer.” He choked. “It’s done at marriage ceremonies as an old tradition.”

I was pretty sure my eyes were as large as saucers, but I cleared my throat, picking the coffee cup back up. “All that for drinking from this?”

All three nodded.

My chuckle sounded as weird as Ezra’s had, my gaze swinging back and forth between his parents. “Well, I told you guys I didn’t like rules that ‘just are’.” I toasted them. “Bottoms up.” And I downed the remaining contents.

Ezra made a choking noise, his hand blurring he grabbed the cup so quickly from me, but I had already finished it off. There hadn’t been much left. He stared into its porcelain depths. He made a gurgling noise, tipping the thing upside down. Nothing fell.

Vivian’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide.

Cahal cleared his throat, staring at the cup. “What he didn’t finish telling you, Ms Ruckler, is the prophecy of the act of sharing a drink.”

Ezra sat the cup down carefully. “If the drink is consumed completely, greed instead of selflessness, the one who took the last drop will sacrifice all for their partner.”

Huh. “It sounds complicated.” I gestured to the cup. “And yet, it’s still an old tradition full of superstition. We had no clue what we were doing, and we’re only friends, not on the track for marriage.” I shrugged.