“But I’ve seen you reading. You read that book in the dungeons almost every night.”
I forced myself to keep my eyes locked on hers. “Pretending like I knew what the hell those words said was more entertaining than staring off into space. Please.” I motioned to the paper. “We don’t have all night.”
She cleared her throat, the sound loud in the quiet room. “Fine.”
And then, without even a snicker, she began to read.
Jumper
Earth manipulator
Water wielder
Mind reader
Advanced strength
Healer
Unknown—?
It was a decent list, but there would surely be more. More we’d yet to come across.
More like me.
“Does Margaret know?” she asked after a while.
“Does she know what?”
“That you can’t read? She clearly can.” She glanced at the page, then back up at me. “Considering she wrote this list.”
I shifted, stretching my feet out in front of me. “Like most people, she assumes I have the basic skill of literacy. My father taught her how to read. He taught me other things. It’s not important.”
She studied me a little too intently. It took more strength than I’d like to admit to not squirm under her inspection. I had never told anyone. It had never come up, really. Until now, I hadn’t been forced to read for survival purposes.
But now that she knew, would she see me as weak? As less than? I was Sinner, the terrifying tier three with literal death magic who couldn’t even read the damn list.
But she did not look amused.
She looked sad.
And somehow, that was worse.
“Okay.” I plucked the sheet from her hand and gave her another. “Now this one.”
She read every word from every sheet of paper on the floor, even the labels on the diagrams. Every note. She didn’t laugh once. Didn’t bring up anything about my deficiency.
She simply read.
And then she read them all again.
And again.
It wasn’t until the sun was nearly rising that my eyelids grew heavy. The last thing I heard before I drifted asleep was the sound of her voice.
And it replayed in my dreams, chasing away the nightmares, chasing away the horrors.
And I slept.