Read Online Thief Eyes by Janni Lee Simner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Janni Lee Simner
Tags: Ages 12 & Up
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who’d tried to rescue me was gone forever, turned to white fur and black claws?
No. I wouldn’t let that happen.
Whoever I am, no way do I give up that easily
. I opened the main inner pocket of the pack. It contained a small yellow notebook, an English-to-Icelandic phrase book, and beneath them—
Water! Freki sniffed disdainfully as I uncapped the bottle and took a long swallow. Cool liquid soothed my parched throat. I’d never tasted anything so wonderful—or maybe I had and didn’t remember. I forced myself to screw the cap back on before I drank it all.
I also found a smushed bag of malt balls. My stomach grumbled at the scent of half-melted chocolate. Freki nosed at the bag. I gave him a malt ball—he took it between his paws and nibbled it delicately—then gulped down a handful of my own. The grumbling eased. I put the malt balls backinto the pack beside the water and opened the notebook. A note was written on the first page:
Haley
,
I’ve done my best to translate these pages. Your father will tell you the words written here are nonsense, but you must believe me when I say the danger is real. If we are lucky, that danger will not find you—but I will not rely on luck. I will not let you face this magic unarmed
.
I am sorry you could not stay home. I am sorry for what happened to your mother. I am sorry for many things
.
By the time you read this, we’ll have already talked. But call if you need to talk more
.
Whatever happens, you can always call me
.
Katrin
Another name. Another person I couldn’t remember. Had Katrin tried to rescue me, too? There was a phone number beneath her name.
What had happened to my mother? How could I forget something like
that
? I turned the page.
Warnings from Thorgerd, daughter of
Hallgerd and Glum, passed on to her daughters in turn:
Never run from magic
.
When offered escape, turn away, no matter how deeply you desire it
.
Take some of the fire if you can, but do not take too much. Do not let the fire consume you
.
If the spell lands on you in spite of these warnings, you must cast it back again. Go to Hlidarendi to return the coin from whence it came
.
The means of the casting, plus other useful spells, follow
.
The rest of the pages were covered with strange symbols—squiggles and circles and lines—with smaller writing scrawled among the symbols.
Had I run from magic? Was that why my life had needed saving? I reached into my pocket and drew out the coin, hoping that holding it would help me remember, like before.
Heat shot through my palm—too hot! I dropped the thing and it clattered to the ground. I pressed my hand to my mouth as the burning cooled.
On the floor, the silver coin shone in the lamplight. I didn’t dare lose it, no matter how much it burned. I reached into my other pocket for the cloth. A white handkerchief streaked with dried blood. My blood? I used the handkerchief to pick up the coin. The heat was fainter through the cotton.
I felt a powerful tug, as if the coin was trying to pull me from the room. For just a second, I caught an image of a boy with shaggy hair and a wool hat jammed down over his ears. The coin kept tugging. Leading me toward Ari?
My heart pounded. Not letting go of that coin for a second, I loaded everything into my pack. The wineskin Freki had brought me still lay beside the bed. No way was I drinking the mead, but if I found more water, I could use the skin to carry it. I tugged the cork free, meaning to empty it out.
Freki let out a single sharp bark and rose to his feet. “Don’t spill that! My master would not like it!”
“I thought your master didn’t walk in this world anymore.”
Freki made a strange sound, low in his throat. “And if you’re wise, you’ll not draw his attention back to it. If you spill his mead—if you deny his hospitality by letting it touch the earth—he will know.”
Right. No point pushing my luck. I corked the skin and put it into the pack. Maybe I could empty it
No. I wouldn’t let that happen.
Whoever I am, no way do I give up that easily
. I opened the main inner pocket of the pack. It contained a small yellow notebook, an English-to-Icelandic phrase book, and beneath them—
Water! Freki sniffed disdainfully as I uncapped the bottle and took a long swallow. Cool liquid soothed my parched throat. I’d never tasted anything so wonderful—or maybe I had and didn’t remember. I forced myself to screw the cap back on before I drank it all.
I also found a smushed bag of malt balls. My stomach grumbled at the scent of half-melted chocolate. Freki nosed at the bag. I gave him a malt ball—he took it between his paws and nibbled it delicately—then gulped down a handful of my own. The grumbling eased. I put the malt balls backinto the pack beside the water and opened the notebook. A note was written on the first page:
Haley
,
I’ve done my best to translate these pages. Your father will tell you the words written here are nonsense, but you must believe me when I say the danger is real. If we are lucky, that danger will not find you—but I will not rely on luck. I will not let you face this magic unarmed
.
I am sorry you could not stay home. I am sorry for what happened to your mother. I am sorry for many things
.
By the time you read this, we’ll have already talked. But call if you need to talk more
.
Whatever happens, you can always call me
.
Katrin
Another name. Another person I couldn’t remember. Had Katrin tried to rescue me, too? There was a phone number beneath her name.
What had happened to my mother? How could I forget something like
that
? I turned the page.
Warnings from Thorgerd, daughter of
Hallgerd and Glum, passed on to her daughters in turn:
Never run from magic
.
When offered escape, turn away, no matter how deeply you desire it
.
Take some of the fire if you can, but do not take too much. Do not let the fire consume you
.
If the spell lands on you in spite of these warnings, you must cast it back again. Go to Hlidarendi to return the coin from whence it came
.
The means of the casting, plus other useful spells, follow
.
The rest of the pages were covered with strange symbols—squiggles and circles and lines—with smaller writing scrawled among the symbols.
Had I run from magic? Was that why my life had needed saving? I reached into my pocket and drew out the coin, hoping that holding it would help me remember, like before.
Heat shot through my palm—too hot! I dropped the thing and it clattered to the ground. I pressed my hand to my mouth as the burning cooled.
On the floor, the silver coin shone in the lamplight. I didn’t dare lose it, no matter how much it burned. I reached into my other pocket for the cloth. A white handkerchief streaked with dried blood. My blood? I used the handkerchief to pick up the coin. The heat was fainter through the cotton.
I felt a powerful tug, as if the coin was trying to pull me from the room. For just a second, I caught an image of a boy with shaggy hair and a wool hat jammed down over his ears. The coin kept tugging. Leading me toward Ari?
My heart pounded. Not letting go of that coin for a second, I loaded everything into my pack. The wineskin Freki had brought me still lay beside the bed. No way was I drinking the mead, but if I found more water, I could use the skin to carry it. I tugged the cork free, meaning to empty it out.
Freki let out a single sharp bark and rose to his feet. “Don’t spill that! My master would not like it!”
“I thought your master didn’t walk in this world anymore.”
Freki made a strange sound, low in his throat. “And if you’re wise, you’ll not draw his attention back to it. If you spill his mead—if you deny his hospitality by letting it touch the earth—he will know.”
Right. No point pushing my luck. I corked the skin and put it into the pack. Maybe I could empty it
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