Which is why it takes him a moment to notice that Lizl is no longer moving. Even the muscles in his stomach hurt now, and his cheeks-oh, his cheeks! “Caught you!” Her fingers dig into the loose linen of his monastery tunic. Lizl’s hand slams onto the boy’s shoulder. The boy overheard his mentor discussing yesterday that they might move her up to the next level of training.
She’s older, longer-legged, and nimble in a way none of the other acolytes are. He can’t remember if he’s ever laughed before today.
Bubbling up his throat like the spring behind the dormitories. She’s the fox in this round, and the boy is the only hen left. His cheeks ache from the grinning, but he can’t stop. Certainly, he has never been allowed in a game of fox and hen.Īnd certainly he has never smiled this much. Never has he been addressed by so many his age. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us./piracy.Ī strand fallen from the weave, cast adrift on winds of flame.įor three peals of the chimes above the gatehouse, the boy has been playing with others. You may not copy, reproduce, or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.Ĭopyright infringement is against the law. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. This e-book is for your personal use only. The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. To receive special offers, bonus content,Īnd info on new releases and other great reads,įor email updates on the author, click here.
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