Page 14 of The Sorcerer's Thief
I wrestle my thoughts back to the present. “Teach you magic?”
He nods, face solemn for once. Cricket would likely make a good pupil. He’s tough. Independent. Clever enough.
“I certainly could…” The statement lingers between us, swelling as we consider the possibility.
“But?”
“Not for free.”
His shoulders sink. “Let me guess. The payment isonlyone coin.”
“Precisely.”
“No way.”
“Pity.” Of course nothing is ever so easy. Not for me. “It would make an excellent solution. You’d get to develop your magic a great deal under my tutelage. I’d get the object I desire.” And I’d have what I need to continue farther south. “You should think about it.”
Cricket presses his palm over his chest again. “I’m not giving you the coin.”
“Then I can’t help with your magic.”
“Why do you need it so bad? What do you know about the coin that I don’t?”
I chuckle. “Many things, most of which you’ve given me no reason to reveal.”
He huffs.
We clean up our meal and return to the path.
Oh good.
More walking.
Chapter 5
Cricket
It’s obvious Julian is struggling, but he hasn’t uttered a single complaint. He follows me with dogged determination. His uneven gait alerts me to the limp he’s developed over today’s long distance.
I considered stopping early to set up camp, but the air smells of rain. A warm bed and a solid roof over my head are more important than coddling the stalker I’ve acquired.
At least that’s what I tell myself each time he trips over a root and gasps out a whimper of pain.
I’m tired as well, but an able-bodied adult ought to be fit enough to walk a day’s stretch without completely falling apart. So we continue.
The stubborn part of me pushes past exhaustion until we reach the mining town of Ember Crest. I remember the village from my journey north. An inn called The Merry Goblet has the best tomato pie I’ve ever eaten, and I intend to wolf down a slice before passing out in a rented bed for a nap.
To the blasted Gatekeeper with Julian. If he wants to stop early, he’ll have to learn to speak up.
As we approach the village, the air becomes smoky with a metallic edge, like a blacksmith’s shop is nearby. We arrive at the town square in the late evening. It’s past supper time, but I’m holding out hope the kitchen’s still open.
Choppy steps scrabble closer from behind. “You’re moving with the purpose of a man who knows his destination,” says Julian. He even sounds tired. “Where are we going?”
“I’mgoing to the inn.”
“This town has an inn?” The relief in his voice is palpable. “Oh, thank the maiden of the stars. There’s no amount of money I wouldn’t pay for a proper bed tonight. Tell me we’re staying indoors.”
“We’re staying indoors,” I lie.He’sstaying, and I’m ditching him. At least I’m going to try. No way he’ll be in any mood to catch up with me when he realizes I have a huge head start tomorrow morning. He’ll be sore and cranky. With any luck, he’ll give up.
