Page 58 of The Sorcerer's Thief
Hopper would have held his belly and doubled over. “Always the fool,” he’d say, and it would be true too. He was the smarter one out of the pair of us. The one to think things through. To plan before he acted. To anticipate consequences.
What I wouldn’t give to have him back, even for a day.
Even for an hour.
Even just to laugh at me one last time before we say good-bye.
But there’s no use dwelling on that which can’t be changed. My twin died of plague—at least that’s what everyone believes—but I know the truth.
Hopper died of a broken heart. Hopper was the soft one too. The one to cry if anyone was mean to him. The one who needed my protection. The one who couldn’t bear to go on when we lost our mother.
Though I swore to keep him safe.
I wasn’t enough.
I never am.
No wonder Julian left me in Willowood. Probably thinks I’ll screw up his plans. Didn’t want my help. Not even when I still have the coin he’s so crazy over. Fickle thing that it is, in my vest, quiet and still for now.
The coin may have protected me from Julian’s magic, sure, but it didn’t protect me from the man himself.
Didn’t protect my heart.
Maybe when I get to Irondale, I’ll throw it into the sea. Let some mermaid find the blasted thing. Maybe she’ll have better luck figuring out what it wants because Julian and I sure haven’t.
Birds have the nerve to be chirping as we leave town for the road through the farmlands. They have no idea how mad I am. But I won’t let my emotions jeopardize Julian’s well-being. He must be stopped before he turns into someone he’s not.
My reunion with my neighbors can wait.
One more day’s travel. One more night’s camp. Then straight to the docks.
Straight to save my sorcerer.
Chapter 20
Julian
Irondale smells of salt, fish, and smelting smoke. I cringe, unhappy to inhale that nauseating mixture into my lungs once more. The day I leave this city, never to darken its doors again, will be a day for celebration.
I’ve cast the illusion about myself that Cricket doesn’t like to be unrecognizable while I do some quick reconnaissance down by the docks. The fishy scent grows stronger the closer I get to the seedy western beaches.
It’s a warm day despite the season, with a coastal breeze that only serves to tangle my hair and make my skin feel sticky.
I hate it.
Memories spider-crawl through the webbing of my mind. The copper tang of my blood. The damp stone of the cell floor beneath my cheek. The gurgling wails of the other captive. A gargoyle, one I never met but whose cries I still hear in my nightmares.
Rumor has it they freed him. Good for him.
I had to free myself.
“State your business,” says a burly man with more gaps than teeth in his mouth. He sits on a wooden stool on a boardwalk over the sand before the dock. Next to him, a rickety lighthouse stands a bit crooked, propped up with thick, weathered beams. Faerie lights shimmer at the top, even in full daylight.
I came prepared for this. “Looking for Tauren. Man in Ember Crest said there might be work.”
He scowls, furry brows touching in the middle. “Work, eh? What for? We’re all rich now, right?” He nearly laughs himself off his stool.
“I’ll believe that when pigs fly, same as you, I suspect. Don’t trust royals, young or old, queen or princess, and I have debts to pay.”
