Free The Eighth Day by Dianne K. Salerni Page A

don’t know if anybody really knows for sure.”
    Jax tried to picture a world map in his head and remember what was above the British Isles. He wasn’t any better at geography than history, but he didn’t think there was much.
    â€œThey coexisted with the native Britannic people for a long time. Kin families allied themselves with Welsh clans and adopted our customs, like taking vassals. But around two thousand years ago, some of the most powerful Kin clans started making war on Normals with their magic. They razed the countryside, enslaved the people, and might have eventually ruled the earth if Niviane hadn’t conceived of the Eighth Day Spell to contain them and give the Welsh clans the advantage of seven days to every one of theirs.”
    â€œMerlin was an Emrys, which was one of the moreprominent Kin families,” Riley added. “But he and a few other Kin clans honored their alliance with our people, fought alongside us, and collaborated on the spell, even though they ended up trapped in the eighth day with the rest of their race. Merlin Emrys sacrificed himself for us. Not all the Kin are bad people.”
    Mrs. Crandall said to Jax, “Melinda can explain more when you meet her.”
    â€œWho’s Melinda?”
    â€œOne of Riley’s vassals. You’ll like her.”
    Jax glanced around the room. “Are there any more of you? Vassals to Riley, I mean.”
    â€œJust Miller.” A.J. cleared his throat.
    â€œYou won’t be meeting Miller,” Riley said. “He’s out of town. On business.”
    From the sudden silence in the room and the stony look on Mr. Crandall’s face, Jax guessed that Miller’s business was not Jax’s business to know.

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12
    JAX TRIED NOT TO pounce on Mrs. Crandall’s dinner like a starving hyena, but A.J. and Riley didn’t hold back. Jax figured he’d better grab what he could before it was all gone, and dove for a chicken leg.
    â€œEat up, Jax. You look undernourished.” Mrs. Crandall glared at Riley.
    â€œHe eats everything in sight,” Riley protested, his own mouth full. “I can’t keep groceries in the house!”
    Jax looked up, startled. He thought the exact same thing about Riley.
    â€œNobody can eat like a teenage boy.” Mrs. Crandall slung a ladle full of mashed potatoes on Jax’s plate. “The pair of you together are probably like piranha.”
    After dinner, Mr. Crandall looked at Riley and jerked his head toward the door. Riley nodded and the two of them left the room. A.J. made a move to follow, but his mother ordered him and Jax to clear the dishes. “I cook.You clean up,” she said. “That’s how it works. And scrape the plates before putting them in the dishwasher, Arnold Joseph.”
    â€œI do,” A.J. protested.
    His mother smacked him with a wooden spoon. “Will you ever learn not to lie?”
    A.J. looked contrite until Mrs. Crandall left the room; then he waggled his eyebrows at Jax. “It sucks—having a mom with a talent for truth. But she can only detect literal lies. If you lie by omission, she can’t tell. Once in awhile you have to throw her a bone, though, or she gets suspicious.”
    â€œHow many kinds of talent are there?” Jax asked.
    A.J. disposed of some leftovers by stuffing them into his mouth. “Probably as many as there are families,” he mumbled around the food. “Melinda’ll teach you about this better than I can.”
    Jax bundled up the trash and carried it out the back door. He was stuffing the plastic bag into a metal can when he heard Mr. Crandall say, “What’re you going to do about the kid, then?”
    Jax froze. Mr. Crandall and Riley were around the corner in the backyard.
    â€œI dunno. I really didn’t think