Page 57 of The Sorcerer's Thief
If anything bad happened to Cricket because of me, his forgiveness wouldn’t matter because I’d never forgive myself. He deserves to be protected, no matter how angry it’ll make him.
The quiet of the wee early hours is haunting. All is still in the brothel. Thankfully, I won’t have to explain myself to anyone, though surely, Hiluron will have an inkling.
The only guildsmen he knew of still operating in Willowood are not the men I seek. Though they all deserve to die, the lower echelon, the likes of the silver-winged fae called Forice and his goons, can wait until I’ve dealt with Tauren.
I’ll kill him with my bare hands if I have to.
The same hands he mutilated.
He’ll be sorry.
It’s still dark outside as I make my way out of town. Willowood sleeps. Not even the bakers are up at this hour. Café tables sit empty. Shop doors are all closed up.
There’s something peaceful about being the only one out and about on the cobbled streets. So I take my time, savoring every moment of peace allowed to me, for who knows what chaos the next few days will bring?
I consider picking up Slinger, but that will only put me on even shakier ground with Cricket. If I have any ground left at all after this. Instead, I wake a stable hand and arrange to rent another mount. A chestnut mare by the name of Nova.
She has some spice to her, stamping and snorting, irritated at being woken up and put to work this early. I appease her the best I know how with what remains of Slinger’s treat stash.
Nova takes the sweet cubes and carrots, but her ears never relax, and she eyes me with suspicion.
Perfect.
A horse not unlike myself. We’ll get along just fine.
At first light, we set out southward bound to Irondale. No doubt Cricket will follow, but this young, fit mare will make much better time than poor old Slinger.
I miss them both already.
Chapter 19
Cricket
Pathetic.
That’s me.
Though I’m loathe to admit it, I’ve been reduced to following Julian instead of the other way around. And it’s about as awful as I’d have guessed.
Maybe even worse.
But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’m going to do what needs to be done, and Julian needs my help with this whether he believes it or not.
Hiluron admitted—under threat of malice—and by malice, I mean I threatened to steal one of every pair of his fancy earrings if he didn’t tell me everything they talked about—that Julian intended to go after the guildsmen in Irondale.
I knew as much already. I just hadn’t thought he’d leave without me.
Or that he’d go without the coin.
What I didn’t know was that the guild operates from the docks. Specifically, the westernmost dock before the land curvesinward and the adjacent stone buildings up the shore a bit farther inland.
My family is from the Irondale’s farmlands, outside the city on the eastern edges before the swamp. I’ve always avoided the area down by the docks, so I’m not familiar with the terrain or those buildings, but that’s where Julian must be headed, so that’s where I’m going.
Thank the stars he didn’t take Slinger, or I’d have cursed him all the way to the Gatekeeper’s dungeons and back. As it is, I owe the slimy sorcerer a piece of my mind, and he owes me the apology of a lifetime. But at least he didn’t steal my only friend.
With Slinger for company, I’m alone with my thoughts as we travel south as fast as the little horse will let me go.
Hopper would have laughed at me. For falling for the worst boyfriend ever. For following him when I should leave him to his own devices. For doing it all with nothing but a grumpy half-blind pony at my side.
