Page 60 of The Sorcerer's Thief
It has to be.
Come nightfall, I’m ready. Eager even. I’ve been studying the activity along the docks all afternoon. It’s a slow business, sitting, waiting, watching. Action will be a welcome diversion.
I haven’t seen Tauren or his lackeys in all this time, but I know he’s here. My magic senses him. I feel the proximity like a stone lodges in my gut.
The guard I spoke with has remained at his post save an hour’s break when a fae in fancy, tailored red silk clothes with gold embroidery took over while he ambled into the first of several stone buildings.
I don’t like the new fae on principle. Who wears silk in weather this humid? The salt will ruin that fabric.
Also, his face is held in a permanent sneer, as if he’s looking down his sharp nose at everyone around him. As if he’s too good for guard duty.
Workers come and go, loading and unloading fishing boats. I suspect that’s all cover for whatever business Tauren is into these days. In our time, it was weapons trade and a fair amount of shady dealings for the previous queen.
Including the containment of dangerous prisoners. For a price.
If only I knew then what I know now.
It pains me to admit there was a time when I believed Tauren cared for me, but he was only ever using me for my magic. Needling and cajoling me into wielding my powers for his benefit and against my best interests.
He never really wanted me; he wanted the power he suspected I had. The power Queen Aurielle suspected I had.
Power that belongs to one fae and one fae only.
The Gatekeeper.
Curse the buried rumors that tie me to him.
I shall never be so blind again.
But even as I’m embracing the old rage, I’m thinking of Cricket. Of how the man has earned my trust, though I’ve lost his. And rightfully so on both counts.
Cricket may be cranky, stubborn, and occasionally arrogant, but he isn’t conniving. He isn’t selfish. He cares a great deal for others. It’s obvious in the way he treats people, how he speaks of them, even in what he steals for them.
I haven’t forgotten the toys in his sack of treasures from Lemossin. If those aren’t for the village children, I’ll eat my big toe.
Cricket would never ask anything of anyone else he wasn’t willing to do or give himself, and even then, he’d probably struggle through it himself rather than ask for help.
Independent little thing.
He’s never once sought to take advantage of me or my magic.
Cricket is inherently kind.
And Tauren is inherently ruthless. I’ll never forgive myself for not figuring that out before letting him destroy me.
Hands in my pockets, I make my way down the shore to the westernmost dock. Tidal fishermen gather along the beach, ores posted in the sand, lines cast among the waves.
Predators feed at dark.
This is when sharks are most active. Chum bloodies the waters to attract them.
It stinks. I wish I’d thought to rub some mint oil under my nose, a luxury I never had during my captivity.
The stench brings me back. Makes me feel small. But I shake it off. Can’t afford to let any weakness affect my confidence. My disguise must be foolproof until I seize my moment and enact my revenge.
At my arrival, the guard tips his head, the same one I spoke with earlier.
“Any word on a job? Will the boss man see me?”
