Pigeon Black Ash Baskets Novels & Stories

“A black ash? Around the whole cell? You never mentioned it to be a black ash” I sighed “yes I didn't mention what kind of ash it was because at the time I thought it wasn't relevant. And yes he poured it at every corner of the bars.” She nodded slowly, thinking. “You never mentioned it ti be black ash, the black ash is not just regular ash. That was part of the spell. Ash magic is old. Dangerous.” “What does it mean?” I asked with a raised brow. “It means I can work with it. If I get the right kind of ash, I might be able to reverse the spell.” Mira said.

The pigeon spun a few times in the air before speeding toward the mountain near them. “Follow it!” A murderous look appeared in Luke’s eyes before he followed the pigeon with Bernard. Chase had set up a bonfire. As he roasted the golden pigeon, he added more firewood to the fire. A delicious fragrance lingered in the air, enticing the appetite of anyone who smelled it. When the pigeon was fully cooked, Chase took a huge bite of it and smiled happily, “Not bad. Spirit Tail Pigeons are delicious, indeed.” Meanwhile, the pigeon’s blood was put in a white jade bottle before him.

"Chestnuts." Atlas blinks, his whole body still coiled tight like a spring, but his brow furrows in confusion at the sight of the wicker baskets. “Chestnuts?” he repeats, the word coming out like he’s not sure if he misheard her or if this is some elaborate trap. His claws retract just a little, but his tone stays sharp. “You’re joking.” Cole says. Amara sets the two baskets down on the low wooden table between us. They’re heavy, overflowing with smooth, dark nuts, still in their spiny husks. She brushes her palms together and straightens, looking at Atlas as if his reaction amuses her.