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Buku Black Pearl Dreaming by K. Bird Lincoln

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Black Pearl Dreaming by K. Bird Lincoln

Author:K. Bird Lincoln [Lincoln, K Bird]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: urban fantasy, dream eater, multi-cultural fantasy, myths and legends, paranormal, Kitsune, asian urban fantasy, dragons, non-Western fantasy

Publisher: World Weaver Press

Published: 2018-10-16T06:00:00+00:00

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Black Pearl Dreaming by K. Bird Lincoln

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Darkness. Complete and utter darkness. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see a thing. My heart pounded rapidly, and a strange awareness prickled over my skin as if I were hyperaware of air currents.

I am dreaming.

 

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Black Pearl Dreaming by K. Bird Lincoln

 

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Literature & Fiction

Black Pearl Dreaming by K. Bird Lincoln

Author:K. Bird Lincoln [Lincoln, K Bird] , Date: June 11, 2019

,Views: 16

Author:K. Bird Lincoln [Lincoln, K Bird]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: urban fantasy, dream eater, multi-cultural fantasy, myths and legends, paranormal, Kitsune, asian urban fantasy, dragons, non-Western fantasy

Publisher: World Weaver Press

Published: 2018-10-16T06:00:00+00:00
CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Darkness. Complete and utter darkness. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see a thing. My heart pounded rapidly, and a strange awareness prickled over my skin as if I were hyperaware of air currents.

I am dreaming.

The delicious, nutty richness of roasting coffee beans filled my nose with each inhale. The flavor coated my tongue like sipping freshly roasted coffee. A warm blanket of peacefulness descended. The darkness was not fearful at all, but strangely alive with possibility and shaped by unseen energy currents.

Coffee. Darkness. This is Enoshima’s fragment.

I startled awake with a massive flinch like jumping backwards off a cliff and hitting bottom—every muscle in my body clenched in charlie horse agony for a brief instant. My ragged pony tail stuck to my clammy neck, and my heart pounded a drum line competition beat.

Where am I? I propped myself up on an elbow, frantically trying to find meaning in the steep shadows of the thatched ceiling and the musty-smelling futon underneath. My bladder broadcast a message of bloated urgency. Half a gray-mottled moon, fuzzy like mothwings, loomed in the sky visible through a low window. The shack. That’s right.

I put a fist to my heart, pressing firmly to slow the drumbeat, and sat all the way up, untangling what felt like a terry cloth towel from my midsection. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep at the kotatsu table.

Underneath the window to my right, Kwaskwi lay half-naked on a futon with arms stretched out like wings, his sculpted chest gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

“Koi.”

I gave a startled yeep. Ken sat at the table eating a rice ball, hair gelled into perfect, upright spikes, dressed in jeans and an un-bloodstained gray Henley open at the throat. He arched an eyebrow and finished off the last bite, licking his fingers free of sticky rice bits.

“What?” I managed to gasp.

“You look a little frazzled,” he said in his slightly accented English.

“You’re sitting up?”

Ken put a finger to his lips and gave a melodramatic glance at Kwaskwi. I gave him the Marlin death-glare, eyes wide. My body was coming down from full panic mode and I really, really needed to find that outhouse, but the boy had serious explaining to do.

“Come outside,” he whispered and stood. Stood! He obviously favored his right leg, hopping along to the genkan in a painful-looking way. I grabbed my phone and shuffled after in the unreal-feeling moonlight, the tatami rough on my bare feet. I half-slipped on my sneakers, heels crushing the backs, as I followed Ken out the door. It was chilly, I wished I had my cardigan. Ken was definitely limping and after a moment’s search, he hopped off the path, leaned over, and picked up a sturdy branch. With his makeshift cane he surged forward on the path.

“You have two broken legs.”

Ken stopped, turned around and looked down at me, eyes shrouded in moonshadows and inscrutable in the darkness. “Outhouse or Museum?” he said.

“Museum, of course. Don’t dodge my question.”

“Kitsune illusion.”

I grabbed the crook of his elbow.

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