Read Online Thief Eyes by Janni Lee Simner - Free Book Online
Authors: Janni Lee Simner
Tags: Ages 12 & Up
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memories safely hidden away?
Yet my few broken memories told me that I could handle the hot desert wind. I could handle the pain of broken bones without crying out.
“We have no bargain.” My memories were somehow tied to that coin. With it, maybe I could get them back on my own. Without it, my memories would still be gone—and I’d have nothing left to bargain with.
Muninn’s claws flexed against the stone. “You do not want the coin. If you remembered, you would know.”
“But I don’t remember.” I looked right into his eyes, not flinching as dizziness washed over me. I could handle lotsof things. “If you want to negotiate further, you’ll have to give me my memories.”
Muninn launched himself from the ledge, claws aimed right at me. I ducked. He circled once around the room, then disappeared down the tunnel with an angry krawk.
“We have no bargain!” I called after him.
And I had nothing at all, save for an old coin and a scrap of cloth and a few scattered memories.
Something brushed my ankles. I looked down to see Freki winding around my legs. I hadn’t seen him enter the room. “What do you deal in?” I asked the little fox bitterly.
“Only companionship. Muninn and I may share a master, but we have different roles to play.”
I had no more reason to trust him than Muninn, but still I knelt down and squeezed him tightly. The little fox didn’t resist, not even when I found myself sobbing into his thick musky fur.
I didn’t have time for crying, not now. Ari—the bear Ari had become—was still out there. With a shuddering breath I drew away. “Can you turn Ari back?” I asked the fox. “Can
you
give me my memories back?”
The tip of Freki’s tail brushed the floor. “I do not deal in memory. I’m sorry, Haley.”
“Can you at least help us get out of here?”
Freki looked at me through sympathetic brown eyes but said nothing. I was on my own.
Ari’s flashlight lay on the floor, casting a beam of blue light. I turned it off and put it in my pocket with the cloth. His backpack lay on the floor, too. I took it to the bed. Maybe there’d be something inside I could bargain with. Freki climbed up beside me, watching as I unzipped the pack’s small outer pocket. “Will you at least not try to stop me?” I asked him.
“I can no more bind you than Muninn can,” the fox said.
That was something, at least. I went through the pack. The outer pocket held a thin wallet and a United States passport. I opened the passport. Dark brown eyes—almost black—stared at me from beneath blond hair pulled into a high ponytail. My own hair was unbound, but I pulled a lock around, and it was the exact same color. This wasn’t Ari’s backpack—it was
mine
.
Haley Martinez
, the passport read. I’d been sixteen when it was issued, and there was only one stamp inside, saying I’d entered
Island
—Iceland—on June 21, but not that I’d left again.
Why was I visiting Iceland? As I tried to remember, a headache stabbed behind my eyes. I let it go—for now—set down the passport, and opened the wallet. It held a few multicolored bills and a handful of silver coins with fish stamped on them. Ordinary coins, cool to the touch. Freki sniffed them without much interest. Did that mean Muninn wouldn’t be interested, either?
There were some photos in the wallet: a man with hisblack hair sticking out in all directions, grinning atop a rocky pink outcrop; a gray-eyed woman in a white doctor’s jacket, a small orange cat in her arms, one of its legs bound in a bright turquoise bandage; myself, standing beside a serious-looking boy with short dark hair, a large yellow-and-black king snake draped over our arms and linked hands. I guessed the man and woman were my parents, but who was the boy?
There were no pictures of Ari. Maybe the pictures were out of date. Maybe I’d always meant to take one of him.
I looked down the dark tunnel. What if I never got to take that picture? What if the boy
Yet my few broken memories told me that I could handle the hot desert wind. I could handle the pain of broken bones without crying out.
“We have no bargain.” My memories were somehow tied to that coin. With it, maybe I could get them back on my own. Without it, my memories would still be gone—and I’d have nothing left to bargain with.
Muninn’s claws flexed against the stone. “You do not want the coin. If you remembered, you would know.”
“But I don’t remember.” I looked right into his eyes, not flinching as dizziness washed over me. I could handle lotsof things. “If you want to negotiate further, you’ll have to give me my memories.”
Muninn launched himself from the ledge, claws aimed right at me. I ducked. He circled once around the room, then disappeared down the tunnel with an angry krawk.
“We have no bargain!” I called after him.
And I had nothing at all, save for an old coin and a scrap of cloth and a few scattered memories.
Something brushed my ankles. I looked down to see Freki winding around my legs. I hadn’t seen him enter the room. “What do you deal in?” I asked the little fox bitterly.
“Only companionship. Muninn and I may share a master, but we have different roles to play.”
I had no more reason to trust him than Muninn, but still I knelt down and squeezed him tightly. The little fox didn’t resist, not even when I found myself sobbing into his thick musky fur.
I didn’t have time for crying, not now. Ari—the bear Ari had become—was still out there. With a shuddering breath I drew away. “Can you turn Ari back?” I asked the fox. “Can
you
give me my memories back?”
The tip of Freki’s tail brushed the floor. “I do not deal in memory. I’m sorry, Haley.”
“Can you at least help us get out of here?”
Freki looked at me through sympathetic brown eyes but said nothing. I was on my own.
Ari’s flashlight lay on the floor, casting a beam of blue light. I turned it off and put it in my pocket with the cloth. His backpack lay on the floor, too. I took it to the bed. Maybe there’d be something inside I could bargain with. Freki climbed up beside me, watching as I unzipped the pack’s small outer pocket. “Will you at least not try to stop me?” I asked him.
“I can no more bind you than Muninn can,” the fox said.
That was something, at least. I went through the pack. The outer pocket held a thin wallet and a United States passport. I opened the passport. Dark brown eyes—almost black—stared at me from beneath blond hair pulled into a high ponytail. My own hair was unbound, but I pulled a lock around, and it was the exact same color. This wasn’t Ari’s backpack—it was
mine
.
Haley Martinez
, the passport read. I’d been sixteen when it was issued, and there was only one stamp inside, saying I’d entered
Island
—Iceland—on June 21, but not that I’d left again.
Why was I visiting Iceland? As I tried to remember, a headache stabbed behind my eyes. I let it go—for now—set down the passport, and opened the wallet. It held a few multicolored bills and a handful of silver coins with fish stamped on them. Ordinary coins, cool to the touch. Freki sniffed them without much interest. Did that mean Muninn wouldn’t be interested, either?
There were some photos in the wallet: a man with hisblack hair sticking out in all directions, grinning atop a rocky pink outcrop; a gray-eyed woman in a white doctor’s jacket, a small orange cat in her arms, one of its legs bound in a bright turquoise bandage; myself, standing beside a serious-looking boy with short dark hair, a large yellow-and-black king snake draped over our arms and linked hands. I guessed the man and woman were my parents, but who was the boy?
There were no pictures of Ari. Maybe the pictures were out of date. Maybe I’d always meant to take one of him.
I looked down the dark tunnel. What if I never got to take that picture? What if the boy
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