Page 8 of The Sorcerer's Thief
I’m safely out of Lemossin and camped for the rest of the night—what’s left of it—under a stand of evergreens. By my estimate, the sun will rise in about five hours, leaving little time for sleep after I’ve eaten.
No matter.
It’ll take several weeks of walking to return home, and I’m eager to be on my way. An early start to launch the journey won’t kill me.
As the fire snaps and pops, so do my thoughts. I’m used to being alone. Ilikebeing alone. But it’s not often I feel this lonely. Like the world has abandoned me to my fate and cares not whether I live or die. Like it may as well be me roasting on that spit, for all I’m needed now that everyone I’ve ever cared for is gone.
And this bizarre coin in my possession seems to have a mind of its own. Power of its own. Magic to do its bidding that it used to protect me from those guards. From Julian. I’ll never give up such a treasure.
The hair on my forearms bristles. A shiver racks its way up my spine to my nape. All my senses heighten.
Twigs snap, and dry needles are crushed behind me.
A footfall.
I whip my head around, muscles tense, and find the damned sorcerer has appeared out of nowhere. I’m half-undressed and seated on my messy bedroll, completely unprepared for company, especially that of the adversarial sort.
He stands a few feet away, palms open, long, black cloak billowing around his ankles.
“My, my. Jumpy, are we? I did try to warn you.” He glances at the forest floor beneath his polished boots.
So he made the noise on purpose and probably hasn’t come to attack. At least, not yet.
My heart beats thunderously anyway. “What are you doing here?”
“You already know the answer to that.” His intense gaze fixes on the coin in my hand.
I clench my fingers around it. “Did you gate straight to me?”
His lips curl into a half smile. “I did.”
“How?”
“How does one gate? Years of study and practice. Or how did I find my way to your camp?”
“The latter.” But he knew that, of course. He enjoys the teasing. It’s obvious from the dancing glimmer of mirth in his sharp green eyes.
“The coin calls to me. So as long as you have it, I’ll always be able to find you.”
Fantastic. Just my luck. “I don’t believe you.”
“Suit yourself.”
“You’re not gettingmycoin.” I tuck it into my inside pocket and turn my back to Julian, a risky move, perhaps. What will he do? Something tells me he isn’t accustomed to being ignored.
“You don’t live in Lemossin, I take it?”Crunch,crunch,crunchas he closes the distance between us, hovering over my left side.
The spicy scent of pine tickles my nose. “Do you?”
“I have. Not recently, though. I’ve lived in a lot of places.”
I snort. “How very strange and mysterious of you.”
He shrugs. “May I sit?”
“I can’t stop you.”
“I’d prefer to be invited.”
