His change in tone makes me hesitate.I really don’t like how demanding he can be, but I place them in his palm anyway. He closes his hand around them, and a flicker of light illuminates the space between us. When he opens his hand again, the spectacles are surrounded in a powdery gold aura.
I lean in closer and squint. I can’t believe it. They’re like new again. Actually, they’rebetterthan new. The previously black frames have transformed to a gleaming gold, and I can’t make out a single scratch on the lenses. There were many scratches before, but that was of my own doing.
Thane settles the specs gently on my ears, his warm fingers brushing the sides of my face. Goose bumps sweep over every inch of me, but I pretend the reaction didn’t happen.
“Better?” he asks.
Once again, the urge to cry is nigh. But they’re happy tears I want to shed. Tears of hope. “They’re perfect.”
For a moment, we look into each other’s eyes, and I swear I see a softness in his that I’ve never seen before…
But the moment passes when Thane coughs and looks away.
I look around and take in the crystal-clear details of the bunker—wood paneling on the walls, gas lanterns hanging in a row on thick rope above, shelves stacked with books, wide glass jars stuffed with peeled fruits and vegetables.
“Wow, they’re so clear.” I smile at him. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Don’t mention it.”
Something seems to be happening right now. A shift—a change. As our gazes linger yet again, I have the irrational thought that this assassin might not be all that bad. He’s protected me from a lot so far, waited for me to heal in the inn, and has just restored my spectacles.
But it’s just a thought. Reality still rings like a bell in the hollows of my mind. Despite the kind gestures, he is still averydangerous man.
As if Thane senses the disruption in my thoughts, he says, “We should get going if we want to make it to Gadonia at a decent time.”
“Are you seriously going to The Shallows?” Rynthea asks, glaring at Thane, Algar, and then me. Before I can speak, she’s flaying Thane again. “You realize you’re leading her to her death, right?”
“She wants to go,” Thane replies in a low rumble. “She asked me to escort her.”
“For a stone that may not even be there?” Rynthea places her attention on me now. “You’ll get yourself killed, Zaira.”
“That’s why she has me,” Thane counters. “So she can make it there alive.”
Rynthea’s eyes burn with irritation.
“Traveling with you is the true death wish, and we all know it,” she rants. “There is a clear target on your back, and you brought it straight tomyinn. Do you know how long it will take me to clean up all that blood? To replace or repair the broken tables and chairs? It’s bad enough our business is going downhill. Now we’ll have to shut down for days.”
“There’s treasure near that temple, Rynthea.” Algar interferes once again. “All sorts, I’ve heard. Coins, jewels, crystals—you name it. They don’t call it Elphar’s temple for nothing. He scoured these lands and buried all he found there. He was Azidel’s brother, so everyone believes the legends to be true about the treasures because Azidel was capable of protecting it. If we get a hold of some of it, you can rebuild Kamtaur and your financial burdens will be washed away.”
“Yeah, if I’m not dead first,” she shoots back. “Making it to The Shallows is a fool’s dream.”
“Then I’ll go with them,” Torjack blurts out. “I’ll bring some of the treasure back,and we can get on our feet again.”
“Like shadows you will!” She turns her head slowly to face her brother. Hot, visible breath might as well be coming out of Rynthea’s nose. “You can hardly even walk half the time, Torjack! What the shadows are you getting on about?”
“If I take the medicines with me, I’ll be fine.” He shifts on his hooves with a weak shrug. “You don’t want to sell Kamtaur even though we’re drowning in debt, Rynthea. I think if we travel as a group, we can make it. That guy there is pretty lethal with his swords and daggers”—he points at Thane—“and Algar is a good scrapper himself. Zaira seems to have done her studying and is quite clever. Our chances are much higher as a group.”
“Lots of groups go to The Shallows for treasure, and hardly any of them leave the island alive,” she says. “And if they do, they either die on the way back to the mainland or make it back crippled. None have returned with treasure.”
Torjack throws his arms wide in frustration. “What does it matter if I die? And I’m already crippled, so that means nothing to me. I can’t have you looking after me for the rest of my life, Rynthea. That’s no way for you to live. I’m the one who’s sick, and I’ll never get better unless we do something about it.”
She clamps her mouth shut and stares at him with glossy, honeyed eyes.
“I know you want to look out for me,” Torjack goes on in a gentler voice, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but one day my life might come to an end, and not only will you be out of a business, but you’ll have no brother, either. You’ll have no family left. You’ll have no money. There will be nothing to hold on to, all because you wanted to play it safe. Why not take a risk—a chance for the better—instead of sitting here waiting for my final breath?”
“Tor, you’re talking nonsense.” She shakes her head and pushes his hand away. “You’re not going to Elphar, and that’s final.”
Torjack steps back with a deflated sigh.
