Page 82 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

Pinching her lips together, Hulda shook her head. This would never be comedic, however it may end. She couldn’t even say so, however, for fear panic would choke out her voice. If she started crying, she might never stop.

“Let’s play a game,” he offered. “I’ll think of something, and you have to guess what it is.”

Hulda took a deep breath to steel herself. “That seems rather pointless.”

“Give it a try.”

She frowned. “Is it a bonnet?”

“A bonnet?” He laughed. “That’s the first thing you thought of?”

Flustered, she pulled her hands free. “It could be literally anything. Whynota bonnet?”

He stood and took a seat beside her. “You have to ask questions. It’s a mystery.”

Hulda was not in the mood for games, but it wasn’t like she could do anything else, except pace, which she didn’t have the energy to do. It was better than worrying, so she asked, “Is it a piece of headwear?”

Merritt’s eyes glimmered despite the poor light. “No.”

“Is it an animal?”

“No.”

“A rock?”

He smirked. “No.”

“A person?”

“I said something, MissLarkin,” he pressed. “A person is not a thing.”

She rolled her eyes. Asked a few more questions, none of which got her any closer. Finally, she said, “You’ll have to pick something simpler, else we’ll not be on good terms by the end of it.”

He chuckled. “All right, I picked something different.”

She eyed him.

“What?” he asked.

She huffed. “You have to tell me what the first thing was. My sanity is already slipping.” She glanced around the stony prison, any flicker of mirth quickly dying.

Merritt sobered. “It was a piano key. The F sharp above middle C, specifically.”

She glared at him. “That’swhat you started with?”

He shrugged. “I’m very good at this game.”

“How about I go next,” she said, “and I’ll pick the second flower from the left on the embroidery of my sister’s yellow handbag!”

“Hulda”—Merritt opened his hands as if explaining to a child—“it defeats the purpose of the game if you justtellme what you’re thinking.”

She couldn’t help it. She kicked his shoe.

He smiled.

The bolt on the door lifted, startling the both of them. Mealtime already?

“Larkin,” the guard’s low voice called into the room. Hulda stiffened. No food tray. Now she was sure she’d gotten into some sort of trouble, or they were going to lock her alone in a room and interrogate her—

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