Broken Path, Starless Tail - 9. Chapter 9

Ire had left him after flitting down the path, or rather up it toward the house he was supposed to have. He still couldn’t see it, just a few big trees. It was probably some shack. Or, knowing his luck and that he’d led there by a tiny dragon, he’d find a pile of heated rocks or sand to sleep on with a few branches to block any unfortunate rain showers that might come his way.

Did dragons sleep on a bed of hot coals or sand? Meh, what did it matter? At least his clothes would get dry that way. Dragging on wet jeans had been a nightmare.

There weren’t any clouds in the sky anyway. No, the blazing ball that passed for a sun had sunk and left the world in a purple glow, and little sparkles flitted around the bushes and lower tree branches. Not willing to put on his wet, dirty socks, Beckett carried them loose from one hand and walked in the grass beside the path, trying to keep his feet clean.

As soon as he topped the tiny hill the pool had been hidden behind, he stopped dead. The largest tree, which he thought he’d been seeing the bottom of, actually was more of the middle of the trunk. The hill broke off abruptly to the left, and the tree rose to a towering height above him. A short bridge took him to a door, but he could see a whole valley spread out in front of the hill and another bridge leading up to the house from the front that they’d bypassed by leaving the trail.

Wow, what must it look like from the front? The back door was impressive enough. Maybe he’d go out and look in the morning. His feet were already starting to ache again, despite his dip in the pool, and he was ready to sleep.

Beckett walked over the silky smooth boards, glad there weren’t any splinters to catch on his bare soles, and stopped at the door. He hesitated, not sure who or what he was going to meet next, but then he took a deep breath. Clenching his jaw, Beckett knocked and waited.

Well… he’d done his best to be polite. “Tired of waiting,” he grumbled. He turned the knob, shaking his head when he realized even that was made of wood where it was attached to the door. Weird. “Hello?” he called. “Um, I’m Beckett. I’m coming in, but I’m not here to do anything.”

That sounded weird. He was there to sleep. His stomach roared a complaint to remind him he hadn’t eaten since lunch, and even that hadn’t been much. So maybe he wanted to try and find something to eat too. Sniffing, he scented was fresh wood, a sweet spice, and a trace of mint and citrus.

Guess he wasn’t going to find someone cooking dinner. He sighed, wishing he was home and having dinner with his mom and dad. Or just home where he could nuke a corn dog or something.

The house was quiet. He was in a round open room opposite a front door. Sort of made sense, since he was in a tree. Or part of a tree? Or a treehouse that someone made to look like a tree attached to a tree? He wasn’t sure. Obviously a house couldn’t be in a tree or the tree top would die. Right?

He was done trying to figure this place out. His brain was on the edge of shut down mode. At least with the open room he could see there was one bed, and miracles, it looked big enough to fit him.

Now to find some food. He lay his socks out flat by the door, then started by going to his right. He’d make a circle. There was a… something there. It was a box with a knob, but he didn’t want to just lift the lid and rummage around someone else’s stuff. Looking around, he shrugged, and decided he’d have to do it anyway. He didn’t see any food. He grabbed the wooden knob and pulled up.

Empty. “Jeez.” Heat washed through him. Still, that made him bolder and he moved to the row of cupboards he could see alongside one wall. “Jackpot!” He wasn’t sure what all the stuff was, but it had to be food. In weird colors, but it looked like orange bread, green and pink berries, and white strips that were firm but gave slightly under his fingers. There was even a jar of a bubbly purple fluid that looked like soda.

Beckett fell on the food like a ravening beast—otherwise known as a hungry teenager. It was Mrs. R’s favorite joke and nickname for him and Colby when they showed up for afternoon snacks and a study session. He didn’t even sit at the table by the big window over at the front door; there was a front door that he didn’t come in no thanks to that little shit, Ire. The light had faded completely by the time he finished eating anyway, but a round orb like a giant blueberry glowed white with a pale blue tinge in the center of the ceiling.

Good thing he could sleep no matter if it was light or dark. He probably would tonight no matter what anyway. Exhaustion dragged at him, and his eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Stomach now full, Beckett stumbled over to the bed. He did strip off his wet clothes, no way was he sleeping in damp jeans, but then he collapsed on the bed.

Maybe he’d wake up in his own bed. One could only hope.

The room was warm, the bed soft, and he flipped one edge of the blanket over part of his body before pillowing his head on his arm and immediately dropping into oblivion.