Page 10 of The Sorcerer's Thief
“Cheese?”
He shakes his head. “It comes from animals.”
I arch my brows. What kind of maniac doesn’t eat cheese? I’ll never trust him. “I learned from a young age to eat whatever’s available.”
“I’m aware it’s a privileged position to be so choosy about what I consume.”
Spoken like a man who’s never known true hunger. “Indeed.”
“And I’ve already eaten. Hours ago. It’s quite late.”
“I know that.Someoneheld me up in town longer than I would have liked.”
Julian folds his legs and leans closer to the fire, lifting his mangled hands toward the flames. His skin shines in the light, a fae trait, one that I don’t possess. “Apologies.”
“Pfft. You don’t mean it.”
“You’re right.” He’s smiling again. He’s so weird. “I don’t.”
Just because he’s decided to be pleasant doesn’t mean I have to be. “So.” I nod toward his hands as he warms them over the fire. “What happened to your missing fingers?”
He wiggles the eight digits and two nubs. “Oh, these? Bitten off by a pogglewump, I’m afraid. Bad luck, that.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s no such thing.”
“That’s what I thought. And look what happened to me.”
Apparently, I’m not to know what happened. Whatever. I pluck my bird from the fire. Julian stares off into the distance as I tear off my first bite.
The bird is delicious. Plain, as I have no spices to add, but perfectly cooked and crispy around the edges, just how I like it. Regardless, an unwelcome self-conscious sensation sweeps over me as I chew.
So what if the pigeon used to be alive, and now it’s dead? That’s how the pecking order works. We need to eat to live.
Right?
Right.
Except Julian’s ignoring me. Probably judging me. And I don’t like the way it feels.
I eat hurriedly, eager to be past this uncomfortable situation.
“Well, Cricket,” he says. “It’s past my bedtime.” He conjures two pillows, a blanket, and a red velvet sleep mask. “Good night.”
With that, he lies down and curls away from me, tucking himself up like a baby rabbit in its burrow.
“You’re really staying?”
“I’m really staying. See you in the morning. Bright and early, I assume.”
My reply is a disgruntled mutter. I finish the bird and wander into the forest to dispose of the remains and relieve myself.
Perhaps I should have stolen a horse instead of a pigeon. All the better to put some distance between the sorcerer and me.
As I return, Julian doesn’t stir, but I don’t think he’s asleep yet either. Though he can pretend to be so comfortable as to doze off in my presence, I doubt that’s the case. We’re both in for a restless night.
I huff loudly, more to annoy him than anything else, and settle on my bedroll. His froofy velvet eye mask probably costs more than my entire camp kit. Him with his extra pillows and lavish blankets.
I stare into the dying flames instead of at Julian’s broad back. The fire warms my cheeks. Can I sleep with him right there? Probably not. I’m no heavy sleeper, but the thought of him trying to steal the coin in the night is enough to keep me awake.
