Evariste grinned. “By using someone heisfamiliar with—however distantly—to stophim.”
* * *
It tooka week before the boy emergedagain.
By now, Angelique was inclined to think he wasn’t worth the effort, and they should pack up and send Sybilla or another fairy godmother or godfather to snag the boy, but Evariste wasinsistent.
“He’s strong, Angel,” he said. “And with what we’ve experienced here already, I’m not eager to leave him behind. Someone might attackhim.”
Angelique was unable to argue with such logic. “Very well. We must hope, then, that the woodcarver is able to approachhim.”
She fidgeted, then grimaced when her arm brushed against Evariste’schest.
As soon as they had spotted the boy in the market, they retreated back up a road, and now stood in a doorway—out of the boy’s eyesight. Unfortunately, their position did not make for a roomy encounter. In fact, Angelique was pressed close enough to Evariste, she could smell the faint whiff of sandalwood wafting offhim.
This brat better be thankful once he realizes what’s going on, Angelique thought ratherungraciously.
“Whatever soap you are using smells wonderful,” Evaristecommented.
Angelique forced a smile as she peered past Evariste’s shoulder and watched the woodcarver sidle up to the boy. “Thankyou.”
She bit her lip and fidgeted again, then grinned when the swarthy woodcarver clamped a hand on the boy’s thinshoulder.
“He’s got him,” she announced, her voice thick withsatisfaction.
“Then let’s go give our greetings!” Evariste winked and backtracked to themarket.
As they slipped through the crowds, the boy with craftmagic kicked at the woodcarver and tried to bite him, but the woodcarver held him by the collar of his shirt the way one holds a miscreant cat by the scruff of their neck. (Not that she ever had to do that with Roland—even as a kitten, he probably would have bitten off a finger if she hadtried.)
“You shape up, street urchin,” the woodcarver said in a great, booming voice. “None of that, or you’ll make Lord Enchanter Evariste regret wasting histime.”
“Thank you, Master Dimi,” Evariste chuckled as he joined thewoodcarver.
The boy’s eyes bulged to the point where Angelique was concerned they might pop out of his head and rollaway.
Ahhh, he hadn’t realized Master Evariste was anEnchanter.
Angelique idly tugged on the wide, trailing sleeves of her white, robe-like dress. The fabric was warm, as if the flames embroidered on the sleeves werereal.
“What is your name, boy?” Evariste asked the boy—who had retreated into petulance—as he hung from the woodcarver’s meatyhands.
The boy saidnothing.
The woodcarver lightly jostled the boy. “He asked you aquestion.”
Evariste took a step back and rubbed his clean-shaven jawline. “This isn’t effective. He is too frightened to talk to me. Would you hold him for a moment, MasterDimi?”
The woodcarver grunted and swatted the boy’s hands away when he tried to scratch him. “Ofcourse.”
Evariste placed a hand on Angelique’s elbow and tugged her a few feet away, stirring hercuriosity.
What plan would we need to discuss inprivate?
Evariste glanced back at the boy before proverbially slugging Angelique in the gut. “Angel, you need to talk tohim.”
“Me?” Angeliquegaped.
“Yes. It’s me he’s wary of. I don’t think he’ll react the same way with you,” Evaristesaid.
