Page 106 of Stealing Tink

“Impractical woman,” says Lars in a manner that seems more like he’s assessing Phoenix than intentionally insulting her.

“Lest we stray off topic,” says the Nomad, “Lars here used some of the magic from Phoenix’s painting to create a shield for Acel. A sort of back-up plan.”

Acel holds up a metal bracelet dangling from his wrist at the same time Lars says, “That’s a gross oversimplification of the mechanism.”

Before Lars can dive into a gross overexplanation of the mechanism, I interrupt with the question that’s itching underneath my skin. And the explosion? Did it kill the Sister?

Acel snorts. “If only.”

“No,” says Phoenix, “but it distracted her for a while. The fire’s still burning. That playhouse is her prized possession. She’ll be busy salvaging what she can from it rather than chasing us.”

“For now,” says Acel.

The way he says it makes it seem as if for now is a quite short amount of time.

“Exactly,” says the Nomad. “Which is why we need to be out of here as soon as possible.”

I take that as my cue to open the box. When I press my finger against the button, it clicks open. Inside, there is… nothing. The box is empty.

I feel as if I’ve been gutted. All that’s inside is a velvet cushion, five jagged indentations marking whatever used to lie there.

“You’re kidding,” says Phoenix.

I glance at the Nomad to read his expression, hoping, for once, for that smug I know something I haven’t told you look. Instead he’s staring at the box, blinking, as if his eyelids are a stage curtain. As if drawing them then opening them once more will banish the current scene and reveal one in which the box contains whatever he’s looking for.

“Please tell me this is your idea of a joke,” says Acel. “What? Did you already remove it before we got here?”

Phoenix is next to start. “If you’re trying to swindle us out of our reward⁠—”

No, I sign with one hand, bringing my fingers together, then balancing the box between my forearms again. I’ve been with it the entire time.

“And why would we trust you?” says Phoenix. “You are clearly in love with him. And besides—I’ve heard your story. It’s not as if you haven’t been swindled by a man pretending to love you before.”

“Hey,” says Acel, his voice a warning, the Nomad’s body language even more so.

Her words land deep in my gut. But I hold my hand out, stopping the Nomad from getting anywhere near her.

She’s right to be skeptical, I write. But I look at Phoenix, and I don’t know how to prove it to her. My words won’t do a thing, but maybe my eyes can. Maybe she’ll be able to see the honesty there.

I’m not lying to you.

I refuse to look away. Phoenix’s mouth hangs open slightly, her tongue positioned to the side behind her teeth.

“I’m done,” she says.

“Done?” says the Nomad.

“I just got myself on the wrong side of a Fate for you,” she says. “All because you claimed you knew what you were doing, and I believed you.”

“How was I to know that someone got to it first?” says the Nomad. “Clearly I was right. It was at one point in that box.”

“Yes, well, the Sister didn’t know that it was gone, did she?” says Phoenix. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have kept that box in the safe. Which means she thinks that you stole it. She thinks we stole it.”

“Are you going to turn us in, then?” says the Nomad.

“No. I’m not that stupid,” says Phoenix. “I’m putting as much distance between myself and you as possible.” Phoenix walks away. And no one stops her.

“You think you don’t need my protection,” says the Nomad.