“You have fun. I’ll meet you at home later.”
“You’re certain?” she asked. “I can take you home before I go.”
“I think I can find it,” he replied impatiently.
Lottie grinned. “Alright. Be safe. And be home before sunrise. Don’t make me come drag you back.”
He nodded once.
After a pointed warning look at Felix, she turned and left.
“Auggie?” Felix asked.
The boy blew out a breath before answering. “August.”
“I think I’ll stick with Auggie. I quite like it.”
August rolled his eyes. “If you must.”
“Fantastic.” Felix threw an arm over August’s shoulders. “Where to now?”
The next couple hours were spent buying and sampling food from various stalls, and he didn’t miss how August never looked at the prices before ordering.
Felix kept the conversation light, attempting to spread out his questions. He was afraid his new friend would flee like a startled deer if he pushed too hard. Like Felix, August was an only child. He didn’t get along with his mother, while Felix adored his own. He’d lost his father when he was younger. Felix had only heard stories of his.
But the places where August became hesitant or standoffish were the ones that drew Felix in like a moth to a flame.
“How long have you been in Fallowmoor?”
It was a simple question, but August seemed to turn it over in his head before finally answering. “A few weeks.”
“And what brings you here?”
Another pause. “I’m visiting my cousin.”
The answers were lies, or at least twisted versions of the truth, and Felix’s curiosity grew from an ember to a roaring fire. Who was this boy and what was he so desperate to hide? It made his fingers twitch. Made him wish he could use his magic and listento August’s thoughts, just for a second. All it would take was a touch, a fleeting connection. But as much as he’d love to use his magic, he knew better.
As they reached the far end of the market square where the stalls were more scattered, August’s steps slowed, and his brow furrowed. “Is that really a thing?”
Felix followed his gaze to a woman with light hair coiled into a towering twist. She sat on a quilted blanket outside a shopfront painted the same vivid red as her lips, a sign beside her reading, “Empath Enlightenment, 5 caern.”
“Oh, that is definitely a thing,” Felix answered. “They make a killing at these festivals. More than any other wielders.”
Not that he had ever tried it. The thought of someone else having any sort of control over him made him uneasy. Even someone as harmless as an empath.
“Who would pay to have their emotions toyed with?” August asked.
A slow smile spread across Felix’s face as an idea sparked in his mind. “Youwould.”
If this jumpy version wouldn’t tell him who he was, maybe a calmer version would.
“What?” August took a quick step back and spat a nervous laugh. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Come on. My treat.” Felix dug five caern from his pocket, half his earnings from working at the pub earlier, and approached the woman.
“Felix,” August hissed in protest behind him.
Before the woman had a chance to greet him, Felix dropped onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning his weight as he sat. He adjusted his prosthetic leg—all the walking had left him aching, the cheap leather straps digging in uncomfortably—and set the money in front of her.
