The Blue Door - By Christa Kinde Page 0,56

uh, deep fried.”

“At least try the doughnuts,” said Baird.

His apprentice opened the small bag and poked through the contents with one long finger. “I think it may be wisest to eat when we return home.”

“Spoil sport,” Baird sighed. “Food is a part of the whole fair experience!”

Milo chuckled. “It’s not exactly healthy, but it’s not forbidden fruit, either.”

Prissie hesitantly offered, “The apple turnovers my dad makes are baked, and they’re really good. Would you like to try them?”

Kester smiled and graciously accepted her invitation. “I would like to sample your family’s wares. Thank you, Prissie.”

When they reached the Pomeroy’s booth, Prissie wrinkled her nose at Ransom, who only rolled his eyes before nodding to Milo. “Hey, Mr. Mailman,” he greeted.

“Hello, Ransom,” he returned amiably. “Four apple turnovers, please. And you can call me Milo.”

“Sure, okay,” the teen replied, efficiently bagging the pastries.

“Did you have a hand in these delectables?” Milo asked conversationally.

“Yeah,” Ransom admitted.

“They look delicious!”

“They’re good,” the teen asserted, looking a little defensive, but mostly pleased.

Koji waved to Prissie and asked, “What happened to your friends?”

She grimaced. “Long story.”

Neil glanced her way and jokingly asked, “Did they ditch you?”

“She ditched them,” Baird corrected, propping his arms on the edge of the stall. “Nice operation you guys have here. Working hard?”

“Yo, Baird,” Neil grinned.

Beau raised a hand in greeting, and Koji followed suit, adding, “Hello, Kester!”

“Good day,” he replied, meeting each person’s gaze in turn. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Prissie glanced around to see what had become of Milo and spotted him talking to her father, who was minding the kettle in Grandpa’s place for the afternoon. With a wave, the mailman called Baird over and introduced him; Kester followed, and the three angels talked with Jayce for several minutes. Prissie fiddled with the end of her braid as they chatted, wondering if they were talking about her. When her dad finally looked her way, it was with a smile. “Come back in time for dinner, my girl,” he urged.

With a jolt, Prissie realized that Milo had wrangled permission for her to stay with them for the rest of the afternoon. She didn’t have to be told twice. When Baird led the way back onto the fairgrounds, she walked beside Kester with her head held high.

“Thanks again!” Milo called to Jayce, and Prissie peeped over her shoulder. To her complete and utter delight, Ransom was watching them go. If only Elise could see her now, being escorted by three handsome men — well, angels. The possibility buoyed her spirits even further. Maybe her luck had taken a turn for the better!

16

THE SWEETEST SONG

Will?”

The single word echoed off barren walls in the bleak cavern as Murque hauled himself the rest of the way out of the pit and leered cruelly. “He’s weakening, my lord. I can make him whimper.”

“Has he told you where it is?”

“Not yet.”

Dinge crouched at the edge of the gaping hole and asked, “What makes you think he knows anything?”

“The Faithful do not lie, so silence is his last refuge,” replied their leader with a delicate sneer. “He has the information I seek.”

Murque drew a twisted dagger. “Want me to dig deeper to find his voice.”

“You’ll get your chance, but first, I’d like a word with our caged bird.” With an explosion that sounded like shattering glass, the Fallen leapt, sending up sparks and a metallic squeal as he plummeted into the makeshift prison cell.

The two demons exchanged dumbfounded glances, and Dinge muttered, “I’ve never seen him willingly go into the presence of a Faithful.”

Murque picked at his teeth with the point of his blade. “What’s the hurry? It ain’t as if anyone wants this Observer back. He’s already been replaced.”

Suddenly, a thin wail pierced the darkness, rising in desperation. For a moment, light blazed through the darkness, sending the pair scrabbling away from the edge. With a final shout, it flickered, then failed, and by the time it dimmed to nothing, their leader had returned.

“What did you do, my lord?” Dinge murmured in awe.

“Robbed him of his purpose.”

He tossed something at the cowering figures, and two pale orbs wobbled to a stop at their knees. Murque grunted in surprise, but only muttered. “Can’t observe much without those.”

“From now on, fill his pointed ears with doubts. Perhaps in his despair, he will find the courage to fall. Now, come.”

Once the captors were well out of earshot, their prisoner broke his long-held silence with hoarse sobs.

“And I hear that congratulations are in order?” Milo inquired knowingly.

Prissie