Read Online The Wizard's Heir by Devri Walls - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Devri Walls
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He pushed himself up and stepped over Auriella’s legs, heading down the branch. When she didn’t move, he looked back. “Well, come on.”
She cocked an eyebrow at his presumption. “Come where?”
He gripped the limb above his head and moved out to the thinner part of the branch.
“I believe you asked me where I go at night. I’ll show you. Coming?”
Auriella looked to Tybolt and back to the ground, not moving. He waited. Finally, she got to her feet and followed. He put out his hand for her to stop before their combined weight cracked the branch in half. He inched further and further forward until he was hanging over the castle wall. He grasped the branch he was standing on and swung down, then dropped to the ground. It was a long fall, even for him, and he used a roll to absorb the impact. Auriella followed his lead and hit the ground a few moments later.
Now that they were out of the shadows drawn by the tree branches, Tybolt could see that Auriella’s eyes were red and puffy. She’d been crying. He dare not ask what the matter was, not yet. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the square. She hesitated.
“What?” he teased. “Are you afraid of the villagers?”
Something passed over her face. Rage? Fear? He wasn’t sure, but he immediately apologized. “I’m sorry.” He put his other hand over hers and squeezed it tightly. “Can you trust me?”
Tybolt was so tired of the hesitation, the wariness. He would give anything to see trust in her eyes. Eventually, Auriella nodded and they headed towards the other tavern in town. It was actually a house with an open door policy and a constant flood of friends and neighbors. Whatever water they could find flowed freely, and they drank and laughed as if they were throwing back the strongest of ales, just because they needed to.
Tybolt stopped. “One second, I need to check on something.” He darted across the street and peaked in the window of Dain’s home. A candle flickered on the table, illuminating the little boy from the market. Dain’s son was still looking over the spread Tybolt had sent home. He ran a finger over the rough, dark skin of a beet, and he took a bite out of the raw potato he held in the other hand.
Auriella came up beside him and gasped softly. “Who did he steal all that food from?”
“Me,” Tybolt said mildly. “Although I don’t think it’s called stealing when someone hands you the bag and tells you to take it home.” He peered to the side, looking for Dain. And there he was. Sitting in a chair, his head back and his mouth hanging open in a drunken stupor. “I just needed to make sure the boy’s father made it home.”
“Why?” she asked as they crossed the street.
“Because.” He swallowed, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. “Little boys need their fathers.”
“And food.”
He paused and looked back at her. “And food,” he agreed.
“Do you spend all your money on them?”
“Have you ever noticed how thin they are?” he asked as they walked.
“I try not to.”
“Why?”
“Because.” She looked away. When she spoke again her voice was small, so unlike the Auriella he knew. “I don’t want to care.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s it?” She jogged to catch up then turned around, walking backwards so she could look into his eyes. “No judgmental comments? No snide remarks?”
“No. That explains a lot.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s hard to love anything when you refuse to feel.” Tybolt stopped and pointed at the house to the side of them. “We’re here, but you can’t go in there looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“A Hunter.”
Tybolt saw Mace down the street, leaning against the outside of his house and smoking who knows what. “I have just the thing. Wait here.” He jogged away, coming up next to Mace. “What’s in that one?” he asked, pointing to the crudely wrapped paper cigar.
Mace shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“Interesting
She cocked an eyebrow at his presumption. “Come where?”
He gripped the limb above his head and moved out to the thinner part of the branch.
“I believe you asked me where I go at night. I’ll show you. Coming?”
Auriella looked to Tybolt and back to the ground, not moving. He waited. Finally, she got to her feet and followed. He put out his hand for her to stop before their combined weight cracked the branch in half. He inched further and further forward until he was hanging over the castle wall. He grasped the branch he was standing on and swung down, then dropped to the ground. It was a long fall, even for him, and he used a roll to absorb the impact. Auriella followed his lead and hit the ground a few moments later.
Now that they were out of the shadows drawn by the tree branches, Tybolt could see that Auriella’s eyes were red and puffy. She’d been crying. He dare not ask what the matter was, not yet. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the square. She hesitated.
“What?” he teased. “Are you afraid of the villagers?”
Something passed over her face. Rage? Fear? He wasn’t sure, but he immediately apologized. “I’m sorry.” He put his other hand over hers and squeezed it tightly. “Can you trust me?”
Tybolt was so tired of the hesitation, the wariness. He would give anything to see trust in her eyes. Eventually, Auriella nodded and they headed towards the other tavern in town. It was actually a house with an open door policy and a constant flood of friends and neighbors. Whatever water they could find flowed freely, and they drank and laughed as if they were throwing back the strongest of ales, just because they needed to.
Tybolt stopped. “One second, I need to check on something.” He darted across the street and peaked in the window of Dain’s home. A candle flickered on the table, illuminating the little boy from the market. Dain’s son was still looking over the spread Tybolt had sent home. He ran a finger over the rough, dark skin of a beet, and he took a bite out of the raw potato he held in the other hand.
Auriella came up beside him and gasped softly. “Who did he steal all that food from?”
“Me,” Tybolt said mildly. “Although I don’t think it’s called stealing when someone hands you the bag and tells you to take it home.” He peered to the side, looking for Dain. And there he was. Sitting in a chair, his head back and his mouth hanging open in a drunken stupor. “I just needed to make sure the boy’s father made it home.”
“Why?” she asked as they crossed the street.
“Because.” He swallowed, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. “Little boys need their fathers.”
“And food.”
He paused and looked back at her. “And food,” he agreed.
“Do you spend all your money on them?”
“Have you ever noticed how thin they are?” he asked as they walked.
“I try not to.”
“Why?”
“Because.” She looked away. When she spoke again her voice was small, so unlike the Auriella he knew. “I don’t want to care.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s it?” She jogged to catch up then turned around, walking backwards so she could look into his eyes. “No judgmental comments? No snide remarks?”
“No. That explains a lot.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s hard to love anything when you refuse to feel.” Tybolt stopped and pointed at the house to the side of them. “We’re here, but you can’t go in there looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“A Hunter.”
Tybolt saw Mace down the street, leaning against the outside of his house and smoking who knows what. “I have just the thing. Wait here.” He jogged away, coming up next to Mace. “What’s in that one?” he asked, pointing to the crudely wrapped paper cigar.
Mace shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“Interesting
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