Page 9 of A Court Bright and Broken

The young woman was standing above me with fury on her face. Her skin glowed unnaturally, making her look like the sun goddess Austra.

And then I realized the glow wasn’t coming from within her, but from the torch in her hand. She held it aloft in a threatening manner.

“Now get out of here, all of you,” she ordered, “or I shall light you up and burn you to cinders.”

The four ruffians cowered before her, swearing viciously. They looked furious, frightened, and… wet.

Glancing overhead, I saw no rain clouds. Then I realized the men were not soaked with water but with oil. They reeked of fish.

In the hand she wasn’t using to hold the torch, the young woman gripped the handle of a large fry pan. It was empty.

“Go on,” she said. “If you are still standing here by the time I count to three…”

She lowered the torch and pointed it at the scarred leader. “...youwill be the first to burn.”

Chapter 3

Distract Me

Raewyn

The scarred thief believed me—I could see it in his eyes.

I’d guessed fire was the one thing that scared him, based on the look of the webbed scars covering his face and neck. Lucky thing, that.

When I’d seen the gang attacking my would-be escort, I had run in their direction without thinking.

For a moment, I’d stood helplessly by, like the rest of the onlookers. I had no weapon. What could I do against four men? Especially as weak as I felt today.

But then instinct had taken over, and I’d grabbed the first thing I’d seen—the pan of hot oil from the fry cook’s stall. Flinging it in an arc over the men, I’d soaked all four of them.

Grabbing the lit torch had been the next logical thing to do.

Spitting one final curse at me, the ringleader gestured to his followers, and they all turned and ran away.

I let out a shuddering breath and placed the torch back into its holder at the edge of the fish vendor’s booth.

“I'm sorry about the loss of your oil,” I told him. “I will do what I can to replace it.”

He swiped a greasy hand at the air in front of him. “Don't worry about it, missus. There’s plenty more where that came from. I’ve been tempted to do the same thing m’self. Those troublemakers have stolen more than a few fish from me over the years.”

The candlemaker from the next stall piped up. “It's only a shame you didn't go ahead and throw that torch. Would have saved us all a lot of heartache and money round ‘ere.”

There were vigorous nods and expressions of agreement from several of the onlookers, who must have been victims of thievery themselves in the past.

They all seemed to find the scene that had just transpired humorous. On the other hand, I was shaky and weak in the knees.

I was also awash in relief that I hadn’t had to carry through on my bold threat. I had no desire to immolate anyone, much less a group of poor peasants like myself.

In a way I felt sorry for the men. I’d been on the verge of thievery myself a few times.

Hunger would make you do all kinds of things you thought were beneath you when your belly was full. Mine hadn’t been full in a long time. I was used to it.

What I wasn’t used to—what I’dneverget used to—was my two little sisters complaining about their bellies aching.

Last growing season had been a poor one, and what little I’d been able to harvest for us had been reduced by more than half to support the “needs” of our Fae overlords.

That was why I’d come to the Rough Market today against all advice from my friends back in the village. To sell my most precious possession and use the proceeds for food—and for medicine.

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