Ivan shoved her shoulder. “Now you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
Goul gaped at her. “Stasha! That bloke is built like a mountain. How did you do it?”
Was Goul really too stupid to suspect that Averin had let her win? Poor delusional boy. She certainly wasn’t going to clue him in. She winked at him. “Masterful planning combined with insufferable confidence.”
Ivan tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders.
She sidestepped. “Ivan, to show how much you appreciate me taking all your money, how about donating your knapsack for me to carry my winnings home? I’ll pay you a coin for your trouble.”
“No trouble at all.” Ivan sloughed his knapsack off his shoulders. Face an inch from hers, he leered. “I’ll be around tomorrow to fetch it from you. Maybe we can go for a walk. I know someplace very private where we can explore some of those bulges you seem to like so much.”
Idiot. “Would it be totally inappropriate to make a gagging sound?”
Ivan laughed. “Very funny.” He opened the knapsack for her.
She tucked the silver coin into her pocket and scooped the rest of the winnings into Ivan’s knapsack.
A heavy hand that smelled like wet sheep landed on her shoulder. “Keep that knapsack open, Stasha.” Feral Fox beamed down at her. “Nice fight. It warms my heart to see you back with us. You’ve gone hungry more times than was necessary. Take this win and fatten yourself up a tad.” He tipped her winnings into the knapsack and gave her a one-armed hug.
“Thank you. I will.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. He was one person she was truly sorry to part with. Before her face could betray her, she scampered out of the pits and into the shadowy forest.
Now for the mill and Klaus. She slung the knapsack across her shoulder and broke into a trot.
“Princess of the pits.”
She skidded to a halt on the slippery pine needles.
Averin slouched against a tree. He lifted two fingers in greeting. The swelling on his nose had already subsided.
Every nerve pinged. She wasn’t sure where to assign blame: the almost feline power he oozed, or her need to get away as quickly as possible. Either way, she was going to play this cool. Very, very cool. That began by striding on through the trees without another glance in his direction.
Her heart pounded when he peeled off the tree and followed her.
What did this man want with her? He’d obviously thrown the fight, and he’d said the coin was hers, so why continue to pursue her? Especially given the menace he radiated. Even walking at speed to catch up with her, his footfalls were silent on the pine needles and broken twigs. She wasn’t exactly noisy, but her red boots still crunched over the foliage.
“How much did you bet on yourself?” he called.
She grinned in the dark. “My silver coin. I cleaned up at that table.” He drew next to her, so she shot him a cocky smile. “Thanks to you.”
Averin arched his eyebrows and snorted.
A shame she hadn’t scarred those perfect brows. “Good fight, by the way.” To cover up her and Klaus’s plans, she added, “We should do it again sometime.”
Averin’s grimace suggested he didn’t believe a word she’d said. “As much as I’d like that, I’m heading off in the morning.”
Her nerves jangled. He wasn’t going to Ruepa, was he? She kept her voice steady. “What a pity. Where’re you headed?”
“North.”
Ruepa was to the north.
“Where north?”
“Just north.”
She huffed a sigh. “Well, if you’re ever in the neighborhood again, come find me. I wouldn’t want you making it out unscathed.”
His broad shoulders shook with laughter. No evidence, it seemed, other than muddy clothes and the streak of dried blood on his cheek that he’d just been laid flat on his ass in a fight.
It was more than just a little annoying. Her shoulders were stiff and sore. It was too dark to tell if his tattooed hands were bruised. She flexed hers against the familiar post-fight ache.
Averin canted his head and looked at her with the same open interest. “You’re proposing another meeting? In Ruepa, perhaps.” A sly smile. “Would you like to borrow my horse? It responds well to carrots dangled in front of its nose.”
She skidded to a stop. “How did you hear that?” No one had been behind them on the road to Drueya when she and Klaus had discussed riding horses. She shifted her weight, trying to bring some threat back into her posture.
“I have good hearing.” Averin shrugged. “I wanted to see what you’d do, so I followed you.”
Forget good, his hearing would have to be exceptional.
“You do realize that’s creepy.” And more than a little intimidating. If he knew their plans to escape—
Averin moved closer. So close, she could feel his breath on her face. “You must realize that stealing is just a wee bit illegal, right?”
Her eyes lowered to a vein throbbing in his neck. He should have been bruised where she’d chopped him, but he wasn’t.
That was disconcerting.
Time to get her answers and leave. “What do you want with me?”
A casual shrug. “You do tend to harp on things, pit princess. Anyone told you that before?”
“Coming from you, that’s rich. Now answer my question.”
“Is it a crime to be intrigued by an attractive girl in a fighting pit? It’s not every day you see that.” His teeth sparkled in the silvery moonlight.
“What were you even doing there? It’s our place. Not yours.”
“I was passing by. Heard the noise and thought I’d see what was going on.”
That made sense. She shrugged, ready to leave.
“You owe me a drink.”
“I don’t drink. And I owe you nothing.” Her eyes settled first on his perfect nose and then on his full, bow-shaped lips. He really was breathtakingly beautiful.
Averin smiled wider, clearly amused by the hitch in her breath. “Lies as well as thievery? I saw you drinking at the pit. You really do fascinate me, pit princess.” He glanced at her mouth.
She leaned in closer, her own breath brushing against his skin. He shivered, and she smiled. “I don’t just lie and steal. I whipped your butt too.” Darkness be damned before she’d admit he’d let her win.
“All the more reason to share a drink. I’m open to all the lies and thievery you can offer me.”
She threw her head back and laughed like a pealing bell. “Really? You think stupid lines like that will get me drinking with you?”
She cut her laughter, pulled away from him, and started down the path again. The road to the village opened in front of her. Determined to shake him before she got to the mill, she stepped onto the cobbles and strode ahead.
Averin chuckled behind her. “Fair play. I’ll accede. Your reaction is a bit unexpected. But, so far, that’s all you’ve been since I found you—one big surprise.”
In his way, he was as gag-worthy as Ivan. She glared over her shoulder at him. “So you’re used to throwing out a few lines and smiles and having girls fall all over you?”
With quick, silent strides, he caught up to her. “Usually, yes.”
She snorted. “Maybe I’d be more impressed if you didn’t have such a high opinion of yourself.”
“Pot meets the kettle, Stasha?”
She flashed a smile. “I have something to be proud of.”
“Can’t live without that insufferable confidence.” Averin’s voice bubbled with laughter.
She stopped and faced him again. “Do you make a habit of listening in on other people’s conversations?”
Those fathomless blue eyes bored into her. “Only when it’s worth my while.”
“Your investment has just turned sour,” she snapped. “I may have stolen your precious money, but I won it back tonight fair and square. So you can be on your merry way, pretty boy.”
She stomped along the road. Just ahead, the lights of A
skavol gleamed.
Averin sidled up to her. “I hear it’s your birthday tomorrow. That’s about now, you know.”
A rumble tore through the ground, and the road tilted madly beneath her feet. She lost her balance and crashed to her knees on the buckling cobblestones. They rocked beneath her as if made of jelly. The pine trees on either side of the road screeched like wounded animals. Pine cones, branches, and pine needles pelted down on her.
Her hands flew up to protect her head. A pine tree tore out of the ground and fell towards her. She gasped, but before she could scramble away, an icy wind whipped up and grabbed hold of it. It thrust the enormous tree aside as if it weighed no more than a twig. It crashed harmlessly beside her, its roots grasping for the sky like claws.
“Stasha!” Averin was on the ground, a foot or so away from her. “Are you okay?”
Still on her knees on the writhing ground, she shook her head. More pines tumbled around her. A brief pause in the creak and snap of giant trees … and she caught the unmistakable rumble of stone buildings collapsing. The earthquake had hit Askavol.
Klaus!
She had to get to him. Her knees wobbled, then buckled as she tried to stand.
Averin smacked the back of her calf.
She fell back down with a painful crunch. “Bastard! My friend’s in danger. I have to help him.”
“You have to help yourself,” Averin replied, voice calm. “You do that by staying down until this is over.”
“Move!” Hands and knees flailing, she scrambled away and tried again to stand.
Averin yanked her down and rolled on top of her. “Stasha, you can’t get to the village with trees raining down on you.”
Another tree thundered onto the road just a few yards away. Clumps of soil and stone pelted down on them. Most of the debris hit Averin, but her skin was also stung with flying stone chips. She wriggled to get away, but he held her tight. Her worn leather tunic ripped, and her amber pendant dropped out through the tear.
And then the world stilled.
Just as abruptly as the quake had started, it stopped.
Propped up on his arms above her, Averin didn’t move. But instead of looking at her face, his eyes were locked on her necklace. But it wasn’t his jubilant smile that almost stopped her heart.
It was his ears. Long, arched, and pointed.
Fae ears.
Stasha jerked out from under the creature looming over her. She scurried backward on her hands and toes until she bumped into a fallen tree. A broken branch ripped right through her new cloak and worn tunic to stab at her back.
“Stasha, it’s okay.” The fae rose slowly, hands outstretched, like she was the wild animal that might attack at any moment.
Tarik’s sun-kissed face swam before her. Blood on his lips … eyes dull … neck snapped by a fae. Maybe even the monster standing before her with his arms spread, trying to reassure her. Calming his prey.
“Stay away from me.” She clambered to her feet, but her knees shook so hard, she couldn’t walk. Not even to escape the tall, powerful thing staring at her with those impossibly blue eyes—fae eyes.
Why hadn’t she connected that before?
She locked both knees and looked around for an escape route. The shattered road was too open. Best to head back into the forest. Dodging fallen trees would cost time, but she had to get back to Askavol to find Klaus.
The fae’s eyes also flickered to the forest. “Don’t try to run. I’m—” He took a step forward.
“Stay back!” She pushed into the fallen tree. Although it was pointless, she flattened her hand into a fighting wedge and fixed him with her best raptorial glare.
The fae obeyed. “Just listen to me,” he said, voice soft. “I’m trying to—”
She hurdled the log and landed in a heap of tangled limbs. Her cloak snagged as she scrambled to stand on the springy branches and fallen pinecones.
Not caring if it—or her skin—tore, she clambered through the pin-sharp pine needles and sprinted into the woods. Her cloak and knapsack full of money tore off her shoulders and fell into the dirt. She didn’t even pause to consider picking them up.
The creature swore and leaped over the tree in chase. When would he use his fae powers against her? And what were they?
Cursing the dark chaos, she slammed from broken tree to broken tree to get away from him and to rescue Klaus. But for all the noise she made, the fae was silent.
Terrifyingly so.
She looked back over her shoulder. No trace of him.
Icy with sweat, she pushed on over broken branches, uprooted trees, and new gashes torn in the forest floor.
No doubt he stalked her, sniffing her out like a bloodhound, ready to shred—
She choked down a breath to stop her panic. For Klaus’s sake, she had to keep a clear head.
Bruised, scraped, and bloody, she finally reached the first timber-and-stone buildings at the edge Askavol. They looked like a giant had crushed them under his thumb. In the wind-whipped dust, people stumbled aimlessly around the ruins.
She dodged past them into the square between the mill and the orphanage. Half the orphanage had collapsed. Her dorm was nothing but a mountain of rubble swathed in dust.
One foot in the air, she froze. Even her heart seemed to still.
Had any of the girls survived? Little Hathrine—was she…?
Numb with shock, Stasha shuffled forward, then stopped.
One the other side of the square, one half of the mill had gone. The other half teetered, held together on a breath. She’d instructed Klaus to hide there while he waited for her.
Tears stung. No. She hadn’t lost him. He was alive—he had to be.
She ran to mill. “Klaus! Klaus!”
She was a handful of paces away when the walls rumbled, and the other half of the mill collapsed. Stone blocks burst from the walls and crashed onto the square. Some stopped just inches from her feet. In the screeching din, wooden beams groaned and snapped.
Dust swathed her, the square, everything. Breathing was agony. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand and held her breath. Tears streamed down her face, caused by grit and sorrow. This was Teagarta all over again. She could not lose Klaus the way she had Tarik.
Vaguely, she caught the sound of people screaming. It came from behind her.
In a daze, she spun. Although damaged, the boys’ section of the orphanage had survived.
Chanting prayers, Martka led lines of sobbing boys out of the broken door and down the stairs into the square. Robes tattered and bloody, Acolyte Inna counted them off as they stumbled past her.
Would Klaus have left the mill and gone to the orphanage? She had to believe that. Anything else would be unbearable. She sucked in a dusty, hope-filled breath and sprinted to Inna to watch the boys shuffling out.
Klaus wasn’t among them.
Stomach heaving, she made for the stairs. She’d search every inch of the building to find Klaus. A carriage, pulled by a pair of horses, one black and one white, cantered into the square in front of her.
The Kňazer had arrived.
She bashed her fists against the carriage window as she charged around it. The door flew open, and two Kňazer dismounted. They were dressed from head to toe in lavish silken robes, one man in white, and the other in black. Several of their acolytes—young men with shaved heads, scarified faces, and dressed in coarse brown robes—followed close behind.
“Dear children,” the Kňazer in white cooed. He raised his hands above his head. “I bid you, be calm. Even in this devastation, the two-faced god smiles upon you.”
Stasha spat a curse, then raced to Martka Gabika. The black-clad woman led another wave of boys from the crumbling ruins. Shouting Klaus’s name, she pushed and shoved her way through the crowd.
And then she spotted him.
Klaus!
Pale and trembling, he seemed unhurt. He shouted her name and elbowed his way to her.
Sobbing, she wrapped her arm
s around his neck and buried her face in the cusp of his shoulder. His arms tightened around her. “You’re okay.” He pulled away, stuttering, “I thought you’d gone without me.”
“Never!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the other side of a pile of rubble, away from the Martka and Kňazer. Before they’d even crouched down, she blurted, “He’s fae. Blue Eyes from the fighting pits is fae.”
Klaus went green.
She grabbed his shoulders to anchor them both. “I was with him when the quake came. After the quake … I don’t know what happened, but I could see him. See him as fae.”
Eyes bulging, Klaus ripped out of her hands. He lifted a single, quaking finger and pointed at her.
Her breath hitched. “What?”
Klaus’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. It was almost as frightening as being grappled by a fae male.
“Darkness swallow us! Klaus, speak to me.”
He pointed again. “Your ears.”
“What’s wrong with—” Her fingers grazed the rims of her ears. Where they had been rounded and human, they arched up and up into a … fae point. She screamed and fell back into the rocks.
Klaus grabbed her forearms. His eyes burned with terrible fervor. “What did he do to you?”
Mute with shock, she stared at him.
He shook her. “What did he do to you?”
Her mouth gaped, then closed. She didn’t know. A headshake was the only answer she could give.
“Please, Stasha.” Klaus’s voice cracked, and tears spilled. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this. Tell me how to help you.”
Arms wrapped around her chest, she rocked. I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know.
Someone on the other side of the rubble called out. “Who’s there?” Footsteps ground on the gravel as the person drew near.
They couldn’t see her like this. They couldn’t—
Martka Gabika stomped into view. Pursed lips replaced her worried frown. “What did I say would happen if I found you two alone? Klaus, get over here. Now.”
The Fire Thief Page 6