BLACK NEST

ter

den than a son. They left him alone in their crumbling North Carolina home for hours, sometimes days, without a second thoug

felt too empty, and the wind whispered things he did

er noticed

arly blending into the shadows at the bottom of the basement stairs. The handle was rusted, the wood old yet stran

y for a moment befo

arth. A heavy scent of damp soil and something older-something ancient-filled th

en, he

bed him, pulling him downward through darkness that had no en

, li

eyes as he landed, not on a basement floor

surrounded him. Their dark eyes widened in awe,

of them cried, voice

a headdress that shimmered under the sun. Her skin wa

we have waited fo

ard, his pulse po

this place?" h

, placing a hand

e sacred village of

re him, bowing

lord, are o