Chapter 12

Julian

The scent of damp hay creeps into my nose and triggers a sneeze. Cricket startles awake, gaze darting around wildly, hair sticking every which way.

"Oops, sorry." I wave toward his pillow. "Go back to sleep if you want. It's early."

He blinks and rubs his eyes. "That racket was you?"

"Guilty." That sneeze was a long time coming. My nose has been itchy all night long, keeping me awake. That and my muddled thoughts.

I shouldn't have been so cold to Cricket last night. He's been nothing but kind to me. Teasing sometimes but always kind. And he almost kissed me. Would have if I hadn't turned aside in the nick of time.

I wanted that kiss. I still feel the ghost of it. His soft exhale near my chin.

But that cursed coin was dragging him in. Tugging and yanking with all its magical might. Its song fluttered like newly emerged butterflies taking flight, whirling and soaring a sweet crescendo at finally being set free on the wind.

What I can't understand is why the coin would want us allied in that way. Why Cricket, who has a village he belongs with, people he cares for, people who undoubtably miss him and will cheer his return?

I am no match for a man like Cricket. He deserves someone kind like he is. Silly like he is. Perhaps even arrogant like he is so he can navigate getting a taste of his own medicine on occasion.

Not me.

Not a jaded old, broken sorcerer with missing pieces and a dead heart.

My anger spilled over like a drunkard's tankard of ale, fowl and sticky. Not meant for Cricket, yet he was the only one there to absorb it.

I owe him an apology, but the words don't come.

"You get any sleep?" he asks. "You look like you slept in the Gatekeeper's dungeon."

Ha. If he only knew. "Mm. Thank you for noticing." I comb my fingers through my hair, which must look worse than Cricket's. A stray bit of hay is lodged at my crown. I pluck it free and sneeze again.

"Maybe we should go," he says. "Get an early start on the day. This barn doesn't agree with you."

It doesn't, and I'd like to put our time here behind us. "Agreed."

We pack our bedrolls in silence. The rain has passed, and the barn is still dark, though I sense the dawn on the horizon in my bones. By the time we've eaten and collected Slinger, it'll be light enough for travel.

I'll apologize once we're on the road.

It'll be easier once we're moving.

It's not any easier once we're moving.

I simply don't have the words.

Hey, I'm sorry for dredging up my past so you can fret about it too. Sorry for scaring you. Sorry I didn't kiss you. Sorry I'm still planning to steal that coin the first chance I get. Sorry I'm so unworthy of your time and attention.

Yeah, I'm not saying any of that.

Instead, I offer the magic lesson I owe him. "Are you ready to claim your winnings?"

"Now?" He looks around.

We're off the main road on a horse trail through the woods. Slinger isn't exactly friendly to other travelers, other horses, or others in general, so we thought the lesser-used path would be more pleasant for her. It's wide enough for two people and a horse, though not much more than that, with trees towering on either side and no view to speak of. But the green tunnel effect is lovely.

Though the season brings cool air, the humidity of the south keeps us from being cold. Leaves don't so much crunch beneath our feet and flatten with the inherent dampness of these lands. We're nearing Willowood, and I'll be glad to have access to the amenities of a proper city again soon.

"Why not now?"

"We're making good progress for one. And for two, there's no good place to stop."

"No need to stop. You can learn and walk at once."

"Pfft. You overestimate my ability with magic."

"I don't think I do. Let's try." I take Slinger's lead from his hand and throw it over her back. She'll follow along without being led. Mostly because the two of us have a habit of spoiling her with extra treats and scratches at frequent intervals. Turns out that's all that was needed to win her love and loyalty.

If only people were as simple as horses.

"What will you teach me?"

Ah, he remembers my caveat. I get to choose. Having given it some thought, I decided simply enough. "Protection."

"Protection." If his inflection is anything to go by, he's less than impressed.

"Yes. Protection spells, protection charms, and general magical defenses."

"And if I'd rather learn something else?"

"What would you choose that's more important than protection?"

"I was thinking maybe gardening? Growing spells, magic to help plants thrive, increase the harvest, and mitigate the poor soil conditions we have near Irondale."

Hmm. He has a point. I could see how that would be helpful if he intends to settle down and work the land. However. "I'm not the one to teach you that. My strengths don't align well with earth magic."

"Oh." He huffs. "Well, what have I to protect myself against now that Luminia is safe and just and equal for all?"

Sometimes, when he mentions the recent changes to our society, I get the sense he'd have preferred the status quo. I know it's not true. No one wishes to be oppressed. Surely, we can all agree that if there's enough food, wealth, and comforts to go around, all should be fed, wealthy, and comfortable, yes?

But Cricket was a caretaker to his community. A role that's been made obsolete, setting him adrift, spurring his journey to Lemossin for a last hurrah, if you will. Though it's difficult to get him to speak on his village life, it's obvious he fears not being needed.

I would tell him that's hogwash, but that lesson may be more effective when he learns it for himself. "You strike me as an individual likely to find yourself in trouble more than most. That's why I'm choosing protection."

"Aww, shucks. How sweet of you. You must really care. Or is that the coin talking?"

I'm having a hard time interpreting his mood. "We don't have to practice now. The lesson can wait."

"No, I want to learn whatever you will teach me."

"All right then."

We walk a ways while I organize my thoughts. I'm not often in the role of teacher, though I'm eager to share my magical knowledge with Cricket. Perhaps I'll ask him. "Protection is a multifaceted discipline, and as such, there's more than one way to approach the subject. Where would you like to begin?"

"What are my choices?"

"We could start with a simple spell or a charmed object or a defense such as a shield."

"Ooh, a shield. Can you do that?"

"I can."

"Show me."

His enthusiasm almost convinces me to tolerate his rudeness. Almost. "What have I said about ordering me around."

"Erm, not to…please show me?"

"It would be my pleasure. In most instances, a shield will be most effective when there is nothing to see. Attack me."

Cricket stares at me with a funny expression, as if he's tasted something strange and isn't sure whether he likes it. "Attack you how?"

"However you like."

He clears his throat. "You, Julian, are a hedge-born, fat-kidneyed fopdoodle who wouldn't know a rooster from a hen if you tripped over her nest and he pecked your eyes out."

I roll my perfectly intact eyes at his gibberish. "That doesn't even make sense."

He shrugs. "Wouldn't expect a fopdoodle to understand."

"When I said attack me, I meant physically, not verbally."

"Why would you want me to do that?"

"So you can see my shield."

He gives me a slow once-over from head to toe, so slow a wave of self-consciousness courses through me.

What does he see beyond the obvious? I'm tall but otherwise ordinary looking. This close, the sheen to my skin gives away my fae heritage, but from any distance, I pass for human. Like Cricket, who looks human to the naked eye despite the fae blood flowing through his veins.

Just when I think he'll refuse to attack, he spins and strikes out with his trailing leg. A decent tactic, utilizing his entire body to drive the force, but useless against my shield.

At impact, the iridescent arc around me gleams and flickers.

Cricket curses, hopping around on one leg. "I see why you prefer it to go unnoticed. Ouch."

He's not badly hurt. I made sure to pad the shield for him. But his dramatics bring a smile to my lips. "Excellent kick. Too bad it made no difference."

An eager glimmer dances in his gaze. "Teach me that." He rubs his foot. "Please."

"At your command." We mosey at a slow pace as I explain the basics, Cricket listening intently, Slinger looking bored as ever, and me soaking up every second of being the valued instructor.

Cricket's cleverness ensures he learns quickly. He asks insightful questions. And though he's sometimes shy about attempting things for the first time, he gives the lesson his all.

Before long, he's managed to construct a rudimentary shield that takes the edge off a blow coming from in front of him. With practice, he'll be able to protect his back and blind spots as well. And though his shield collapses quickly now, I have every faith he'll build the skill to maintain it over time.

We practice as we go. Cricket shielding himself and me elbowing him, pushing him against Slinger, and once ruthlessly tickling his sides. Sometimes I use my magic, sometimes my hands, and each time his shield falls eventually.

He rubs his hands over his face and groans. "Again."

"Your strength is waning. You should rest."

He scowls a bit, ever the perfectionist. "I'm fine. I can keep going."

"But you don't have to, and you're tired. Practicing bad habits will do you no good. You've done very well up until this point, but you're getting sloppy."

He huffs. "Done well? My shield didn't hold up a single time!"

"That's to be expected. You've been practicing one hour, while I've practiced my entire life."

He grumbles.

I can't decide if it's cute or rude, but I let it slide.

Soon enough, he settles for more questions instead of more practice. "What about charms and spells? Will you still teach me those too?"

I could end the lesson here. Declare my debt to him paid. But the truth is, I like teaching an eager pupil like Cricket, and I don't want our lessons to be over with so soon. "I will, but not today."

"Good." He bumps my shoulder with his. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I bump him back. Affection? Perhaps. Unfamiliar, surely, but not unwanted.

"Hey, Jules." His voice has softened. "You never told me what you learned from the coin last night with your magic sparkly hands. Besides the fact that you think it's meddling with our desires."

"I take it you disagree?"

"I do, but arguing with you is like calling a deaf dog to come. Useless."

Thinking too deeply about that will do neither of us any good, so I tell him some of what I know. "The coin is centuries old and possesses an ancient magic. Forged by a court blacksmith for a court jester long before our time. As such, it has its own sense of humor, its own sense of self, and its own agenda, but you knew that bit, didn't you?"

"I suspected as much when it chose to protect me, a thief of all people."

"You are just as worthy as anyone else." More worthy.

"I think it wanted to be found. Maybe by me, maybe by anyone, as long as they wouldn't keep it locked away in a black velvet box like the prince did. I heard its song even before I laid eyes on it."

Hmm, that's interesting. "The coin called to you as it does to me."

"Yes."

"I felt it manipulating you, drawing you to me like a moth to a flame. Likewise pushing me toward you."

"And is that so bad?"

His reaction surprises me. "The coin is manipulating us. Of course that's bad."

"What if it isn't? What if the coin is only amplifying what's already there?"

I'm stunned to silence. That was an admission on his part. One I feel as well, but fear keeps me from voicing the truth aloud. But I have to say something. I can't leave him hanging on a statement like that.

Words die in my throat.