Page 29 of A Thief to Die For

I fling my rock. ‘Yeah, I think they called it bug spray, though. Back home we make it with plants.’

His face twists. ‘Bug spray? But bugs don’t wear it. It’s for people. People spray.’

‘Good point.’ I scoop up another rock. ‘So … it’s just you and your mum?’

He bites his bottom lip. ‘Yeah.’

‘It was just my mum and me, too – until I grew up. Became a man.’

He pauses mid-throw. ‘Mama says I’m already a man.’

Something sharp pings in my chest, triggering a memory.

I know you’re curious, Ryland, but your questions are painful. Your father is gone – you’re the man of the house now.

I kick the dirt, unearthing more pebbles. ‘Speaking of men, there’s a guy named Rufus that Brother Thomas said was a trader. He’s missing a hand. You know anything about him?’

‘Yeah – to stay away from him. Mama says he’ll sell anything, even my words to the Commander.’

I still. That’s a thing? ‘Is he the only one who sells people’s words to the Commander?’

His nose scrunches. ‘Maybe Mrs Bates. She hates everyone. Don’t let her grab you; it’s a trap.’

I nod. ‘I won’t. But not Brother Thomas? He’s a good guy, right?’

‘Yeah. He always helps people. Marries and buries people too.’

Interesting. ‘Do you know if he’s friends with Marian, the Commander’s daughter?’ He doesn’t throw his next rock as hard. He also doesn’t answer.

‘She seems nice,’ I prompt. Nice and dangerous. Not to mention, allergic to me – emotionally. Which is new territory for me, come to think of it.

‘Why you asking?’ His little hand tightens on the rock.

Because I need answers. With Marian’s privilege, she could have anything she wants. Yet, she chooses to be a thief. Why? Who’s she selling it to?

And if Kingsland is to be allies with the Notting Militia, how can I let her steal from and sabotage the mine and its operations?

He’s still waiting for my answer, so I shrug.

He shrugs back. ‘You got any food? I’m hungry.’

I arrive at the compound a couple of hours later for my dinner, and a new guard takes me to the holding room. This guy’s tall, one of the few who are clean shaven, and likes decorations embossed on the hilt of his sword. He also reminds me of an alpaca, with his hair all curling up in the front. As if on cue, his fingers slide over it, checking that it’s all in place.

I place my quiver and bow in a pile on the table, just like every time I’ve met with the Commander.

‘Drop your weapons on the table,’ he barks.

I raise a brow but don’t point out the obvious. ‘Haven’t seen you before.’

He ignores me and stands guard by the door.

‘I’m Ryland,’ I continue, removing the knife strapped to my left thigh. As usual, I leave the weapons hidden under my clothes. Those they’ll have to come and get.

His eyes turn laughing in a feel-free-to-piss-off kind of way. ‘I know.’

What a horse chip. No, not a horse – he’s the chip of a hairy alpaca.

Another guard appears at the door. ‘Hey, Soren. The Commander’s ready.’