Read Online In the Land of Tea and Ravens by R.K. Ryals - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: R.K. Ryals
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mad man!”
“He killed his wife?” Grayson gasped.
“He was not a murderer!” Mildred’s fingers found Grayson’s chest, her blue eyes flashing. “She ain’t worth it. None of ’ em are worth it, you understand? You want to end up worse off than you already are?” Over and over, she poked him. “She’ll destroy you!”
Grayson’s hand closed over hers. He hadn’t realized until now how old his grandmother had become, how frail. “That’s a harsh accusation against a woman I barely know and one you’ve never met.”
“Oh, I’ve met her,” Mildred insisted. “I met Lyric Mason the summer her mother died. She was seven years old and a murderer!”
Grayson inhaled. “She was a child!”
“She was a murderer!” Mildred tugged her hand free. “She was a remorseless child who stood next to her mother’s grave and never shed a tear. There was no doubt she did it. None . She was the only one with her mother that day.”
Grayson’s jaw tensed. “And they proved it was her?”
Mildred flinched. “They never could. There was no blood. No body. Sarah Mason simply disappeared. When the police found Lyric, she kept telling them her mother was dead. I think she would have confessed if Gretchen hadn’t gotten to her first.”
Grayson froze. “Gretchen? Old Ma’am?”
Mildred didn’t answer. Her eyes lifted, the corners crinkling. Tears filled them, the moisture turning her blue irises into something greyer. “She’ll destroy you, Grayson. Mark my words.” The tears fell. Two single tears. Nothing more.
The tears should have broken Grayson’s heart. Truth be told, they did. His chest ached for his grandmother, for the young woman she’d once been, the one who’d lost her brother because he knew what that felt like. It ached for the fear he saw in her gaze now. Yet it also ached for a lonely, scared, seven-year-old child. It ached for a little girl he’d never known.
It ached because he knew something his grandmother didn’t.
It ached, because as unbelievable as it seemed, Lyric’s mother wasn’t dead. She was a raven. He didn’t know how that worked yet. He didn’t know what had happened to the women in Lyric’s family, but he knew as fiercely as the hatred he saw in Mildred’s eyes, that Lyric wasn’t guilty.
His heart ached because he’d seen the innocent shame in Lyric’s eyes when she’d shared her tea with him. It ached because she’d never felt anything but hatred in her life.
A new resolve settled over Grayson’s shoulders.
“Have you ever stopped to ask yourself what truly made Polie kill himself, Mamaw ?” he asked. “Have you ever asked if he was as much to blame as the woman he married?”
With that, Grayson turned and walked away, his feet carrying his damp body to the stairs. Each step upward was heavier than the last. Each step was weighed down with knowledge he almost wished he didn’t have. He didn’t know what was worse: knowing something he didn’t quite understand or caring enough to find out the truth.
Damn Lyric and her ever changing eyes. They’d been brown when he’d met her, like warm melting chocolate in the Mississippi heat. Each time he saw her, they seemed to change. Hazel eyes that transformed with her emotions. Mood ring eyes.
Damn her eyes.
Damn her ravens.
Damn her cinnamon-infused tea.
Damn her loneliness.
Worst of all, damn his own guilt. Damn his own loneliness. Damn his curiosity. Damn the taste of her tea. Because if he was being honest, it was damn intoxicating.
Damn her no man’s land.
All of his damns brought him to the room at the top of the stairs. All of his damns brought him to the window facing the old Miller house.
It was too cloudy outside for a moon. Rain still pounded the earth like a cascade of tears, the water landing in an overgrown field that had seen too much death. The rain was a volley of weeping sobs watering a warzone.
Across the field of high grass, a light burned inside of the old Miller house. It
“He killed his wife?” Grayson gasped.
“He was not a murderer!” Mildred’s fingers found Grayson’s chest, her blue eyes flashing. “She ain’t worth it. None of ’ em are worth it, you understand? You want to end up worse off than you already are?” Over and over, she poked him. “She’ll destroy you!”
Grayson’s hand closed over hers. He hadn’t realized until now how old his grandmother had become, how frail. “That’s a harsh accusation against a woman I barely know and one you’ve never met.”
“Oh, I’ve met her,” Mildred insisted. “I met Lyric Mason the summer her mother died. She was seven years old and a murderer!”
Grayson inhaled. “She was a child!”
“She was a murderer!” Mildred tugged her hand free. “She was a remorseless child who stood next to her mother’s grave and never shed a tear. There was no doubt she did it. None . She was the only one with her mother that day.”
Grayson’s jaw tensed. “And they proved it was her?”
Mildred flinched. “They never could. There was no blood. No body. Sarah Mason simply disappeared. When the police found Lyric, she kept telling them her mother was dead. I think she would have confessed if Gretchen hadn’t gotten to her first.”
Grayson froze. “Gretchen? Old Ma’am?”
Mildred didn’t answer. Her eyes lifted, the corners crinkling. Tears filled them, the moisture turning her blue irises into something greyer. “She’ll destroy you, Grayson. Mark my words.” The tears fell. Two single tears. Nothing more.
The tears should have broken Grayson’s heart. Truth be told, they did. His chest ached for his grandmother, for the young woman she’d once been, the one who’d lost her brother because he knew what that felt like. It ached for the fear he saw in her gaze now. Yet it also ached for a lonely, scared, seven-year-old child. It ached for a little girl he’d never known.
It ached because he knew something his grandmother didn’t.
It ached, because as unbelievable as it seemed, Lyric’s mother wasn’t dead. She was a raven. He didn’t know how that worked yet. He didn’t know what had happened to the women in Lyric’s family, but he knew as fiercely as the hatred he saw in Mildred’s eyes, that Lyric wasn’t guilty.
His heart ached because he’d seen the innocent shame in Lyric’s eyes when she’d shared her tea with him. It ached because she’d never felt anything but hatred in her life.
A new resolve settled over Grayson’s shoulders.
“Have you ever stopped to ask yourself what truly made Polie kill himself, Mamaw ?” he asked. “Have you ever asked if he was as much to blame as the woman he married?”
With that, Grayson turned and walked away, his feet carrying his damp body to the stairs. Each step upward was heavier than the last. Each step was weighed down with knowledge he almost wished he didn’t have. He didn’t know what was worse: knowing something he didn’t quite understand or caring enough to find out the truth.
Damn Lyric and her ever changing eyes. They’d been brown when he’d met her, like warm melting chocolate in the Mississippi heat. Each time he saw her, they seemed to change. Hazel eyes that transformed with her emotions. Mood ring eyes.
Damn her eyes.
Damn her ravens.
Damn her cinnamon-infused tea.
Damn her loneliness.
Worst of all, damn his own guilt. Damn his own loneliness. Damn his curiosity. Damn the taste of her tea. Because if he was being honest, it was damn intoxicating.
Damn her no man’s land.
All of his damns brought him to the room at the top of the stairs. All of his damns brought him to the window facing the old Miller house.
It was too cloudy outside for a moon. Rain still pounded the earth like a cascade of tears, the water landing in an overgrown field that had seen too much death. The rain was a volley of weeping sobs watering a warzone.
Across the field of high grass, a light burned inside of the old Miller house. It
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