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Asher securely closed and latched the door behind them, and leaned his back against the heavy wood. He bowed his head and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. The dim light from the oil lamp illuminated the deep lines of worry that were etched into his face.
“Are you okay?” I wondered as I took a few steps toward him.
He pushed off from the door and ran a hand through his hair. A bitter smile graced his lips as he joined me at the lamp table. “I must admit I find this family. . .trying, at best.”
“They’re a little odd, aren’t they?” I agreed as I swept my eyes over the dead faces that stared down at us. “Are a lot of people in your world like this?”
“Thankfully, no,” he told me as he reached into his overcoat. He drew out a small leather bag and set the container on the table. The
