Page 35 of The Sorcerer's Thief
Thought so. “A grandparent?”
“Yes. My dad was only half.”
“He left you?” It wouldn’t be uncommon. A fae sire and a human mother, the human abandoned when the fae moved on to another lover.
“He died.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” I’d thought even half-blooded fae to be nearly immortal. “How?”
“Murdered for siding with humans.” Cricket kicks at the dirt beneath his feet, causing a dust cloud to arise. “It was long before the revolt. I barely remember him. My brother and I were only five when it happened. Mother shielded us from the worst of it for as long as she could.”
A brother. Both of them the same age. “You have a twin?”
“Had. His name was Hopper. No more questions.”
Slinger goes on munching as if we didn’t just bare our souls to each other, both raw and scabbed over.
I bite my tongue. “I’m sorry about your family.”
“I’m sorry about your wings.” He watches me, his expression contemplative.
I open my arms. “Come here.”
He narrows his eyes. “What for?”
“Don’t be so suspicious.” I beckon with my remaining fingers. “I’m going to gate you like you wanted.”
“You said no experimenting.”
“I think I can do it.”
“And if you can’t?”
“We die a terrible death. Not like either of us cares. Come here.”
I’m not sure what to expect. Cricket has no reason to trust me, and yet he approaches.
The sky remains cloudy, the pines remain green, but the entire world shifts as he places himself in my arms, his chest against my chest, his face against my neck.
He wraps his arms around my waist and sighs. “Try not to kill us.”
“Duly noted.” We breathe, ribcages expanding and contracting in unison. His hair smells like me. Specifically, like the periwinkle soap I loaned him to bathe in the creek this morning. “Ready?”
“I’m nothing more than cargo.” Damp air puffs against my collarbone as he speaks. “It should be me asking if you’re ready.”
Thump, thump. Thump, thump,our hearts thud, racing each other. I can’t tell which is his and which is mine. “Ask me, then.”
“You ready, Jules?”
“Not in the slightest.” I harness the energy swirling around me constantly and bend it to my will. With Cricket held tightly in place, I fold space and slide us through. The familiar rush of magic tingles under my skin.
Cricket stiffens and gasps, clenching the fabric at my lower back. His eyes are pinched shut. “Oh, my stars. It worked?”
“It worked.”
“Where are we?”
I chuckle and loosen my grip on him. “Open your eyes and look, poppet.”
