Page 24 of The Sorcerer's Thief
Begrudgingly, he puts his hand in mine and holds his breath.
“Relax. This won’t hurt.” I call the fire to us, a mere taste, no more, and a delicate flame appears in Cricket’s palm. So the coin doesn’t mind my magic so long as I’m working with Cricket and not against him.
Interesting.
With no further instruction, the flame’s natural curiosity leads it to nip and curl around our fingers as if in a dance.
Cricket’s pupils dilate, leaving only slender circles of honey brown shining around them. “It’s not even hot.” Awe looks good on him. “Feels more like water than fire. Flowing.”
“Yes, you’re feeling movement, not temperature.”
“Wow.” His gaze tracks the flickering fire with pure glee. “But how do you create the flame in the first place?”
“Wrong line of thinking,” I correct gently. “Creation isn’t involved. Fire already exists. You’re simply inviting it to come forth.”
Cricket rolls his eyes. “Right, so I just say, ‘Hello, fire. Are you busy? No? I’m having a little get-together. Light brunch. Tea and cakes. Would you like to join me?’ and fire will say, ‘Why yes, thank you. I’m feeling a bit peckish. Cakes would be lovely.’ And bam, I’ve conjured fire?”
“Your sarcasm is astounding, but yes, I imagine that would work.”
He opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish. “You’re serious?”
“Go on. Try it.” I blow out our little flame so he can call one for himself.
“No way.” He jerks his hand from mine. “You’re just trying to make me look stupid.”
“I’m not. You do a fine job of that all on your own.” I wink. He doesn’t smile. “Your suggestion, though tongue in cheek, should work.”
We stare at each other once more. I’m coming to know each freckle on his nose, the crescent fans of his long lashes, and the would-rather-trust-a-hungry-pogglewump-than-you-anyday glower he reserves just for me.
Makes me feel special.
“I won’t force you.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.” He taps his hand over the coin’s resting place.
“Why are you always so difficult?”
“Why are you always so annoying?”
I suppose I deserve that. I’d be annoyed too if someone were following me against my will. “I’m actually trying to help. Do yourself a favor and believe me.”
He purses his lips but, in the end, extends his hand.
I take it, flip it over, and place mine underneath. “You shouldn’t need my help this time. Just think of fire. Call the image to your mind. Then invite it to your charming party and see what happens.”
His hesitation gives way at last. In a small voice, he mutters, “Fire, I invite you to come.”
Nothing happens.
“Again, but mean it this time. Believe your words.”
He heaves a breath. “I invite you, fire.” His voice is stronger, more confident. “Come and let me admire your dancing flames. Please.”
A little flame springs to life, yellow and orange, swirling in his palm.
Cricket gasps. “I did it.”
“Hmm, very good. You’ve proven you do possess manners and know how to deploy them when you want to.”
