“I’m fine,” I mumble. “I said it’s nothing.”
It’s just stress, I tell myself, about the future, about Brogan. Worry eats at you a little at a time, and at night you’re vulnerable as you lie asleep, open to the paths of magic and your own willful mind. My mind interprets that worry as blood and death.
It is what it is.
“Give us a kiss.” Brogan puts down the little bird he’s been whittling and opens his arms. Smiling, I go to him and bend over to hug him. “Everything will be okay.”
I nod tightly and release him, his scent of wood and old sweat familiar and warm. He’s the best father in the world, the kind who chased me around as a child to make me laugh, giving merides on his broad shoulders and helping with my hair when Naida was busy. If I ever find a man to marry, to share blood with and swear a bonding oath, I hope it’s someone like Brogan.
Yeah, he’s right, everything will be just fine. I just need to give this satchel and the book it contains back to whoever lost it and return to my quiet, thieving life here in Siris.
Better than getting gobbled down by a monster, that’s for sure.
CHAPTER THREE
THE CHOICE
ADELINE
“Hold up,” Eiras calls out after me, “I said, hold up! I’m coming with you.”
“Quit following me.” I open my stride, the satchel swinging from my shoulder. “Go back home.”
“Gods, you’re so prickly.”
“Only with you,” I inform him. “Otherwise, I’m sweet as pie.”
He laughs, and I grin back, unable to help myself. My annoyance with him is fading. How is this fair? I can’t hold onto it, not even for a day.
My sunshine brother. He’s all charm and light, and I’m a black cat, bitey, like he said, and constantly annoyed.
“Come on, then,” I mutter. “But hurry up. You’re delaying me.”
“Am I, now?” He falls into step with me easily and runs a hand through his pale hair, tucking it behind his sharp-tipped ears. “Try and keep up, sis.”
“What business do you have in town anyway?”
“Oh. Nothing.” For some strange reason, his cheeks turn pink. “Nothing at all.”
That’s highly suspicious. I study him as we wind through the narrow streets, his easy gait, his bright eyes. That lingering flush.
“You’re looking for trouble,” I finally say, “and then you complain about me.”
“I complain about you stealing. You should stop, you know. If you want attention, there are other ways.”
“Attention?” I shove at him, he shoves me back, and we knock into a wall. Horsing about as per usual. “From whom?”
“Our parents. Me.”
“What in the hells?” I all but growl. “It’s not like that.”
He tugs his hair off his face again, studying me. “How is it, then?”
“You really think the coin you bring every time is enough?” I blurt out, pushing off the wall and straightening the satchel strap on my shoulder.
“What’s that got to do with it? Besides, Mother says it’s enough. And if not, how about you get a proper job instead of thieving?”
“You think this is my choice?” I protest. “That I have many work options, apart from becoming a maid in a rich house? If I’m gone from home, who will look after Naida and Brogan then? Who will help Naida with her herbs and her clients, clean the house and cook?”
