Page 186 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“And Pecks—he has no powers save to talk you in circles,” Sedge snickered.
I arched a brow. “Can’t imagine that would be very effective in a cage match.”
“Hmph,” Pete grunted. “It is if you’re gifted enough to convince the matchmakers to pit you up against the weakest opponents.”
“Sounds like cheating to me.”
“To us too, Shorty.”
“Anyhow,” Sedge steered our convo back on course. “We harbingers have healing potions, mixed by Gentian’s most skilled alchemists. They’ll make short work of a near fatal wound.” He glanced my way. “At least for a time—until you reach a healer.”
“Ah, yes.” I remembered Pete talking about fortifying potions after our Fomorian scuffle. “The potions you keep in your invisible stock closets?”
“Aye,” Pete answered after a moment, ignoring the arrow-sharp look Sedge shot him for divulging trade secrets.
Couldn’t see why it mattered if I knew, though. How would I even break into said invisible utility closet? By design, I couldn’t see it.
“Whatever,” I said after a semi-tense lull. “Still seems like those douchebags were being reckless.”
Sedge snorted.
Pete leaned back against the wagon and folded his arms. “You never did explain that term to me, Shorty—douchebag.”
I blinked again, reluctant to educate him right then—with Sedge there.
Pete shrugged. “It’s only fair. I’ve been translating for you.”
I gasped at the mocking cant of his head. “You already know what it means, don’t you?”
“No, I quite sadly don’t.” Somehow, he managed to look both provocative and imploring. “Please, tell me all about it.”
My cheeks flaming, I tossed my cloak over his smug face. “Suck it! That’s what I’ll tell you!”
Both males guffawed while I stormed over to swipe our breakfast pot off the ground. Sedge met my eyes as I barreled toward the stream. “And you can kindly suck it too.”
“Me?” Sedge sputtered. “I’m not the one deviling you.”
I pursed my lips, my gaze narrowing at Pete, who’d pulled off my cloak. “You’re guilty by association,” I informed Sedge. “Pick better friends.”
Their amusement converged as I plopped down in the sand and dipped our cauldron into the thin flow of pink water delving between vibrant jungle plants.
“See now, Pete,” Sedge griped. “Here I am, paying once more for your misdeeds.”
“I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” Pete’s satchel buckles jostled. “Need anything from town?”
“Nay, sir.” Sedge paused. “I need not tell you to be cautious, aye?”
“Aye.” Pete whistled, and Sionna, off sniffing the camp perimeter for game, pranced over to follow her master. “Be back as soon as I may.”
I didn’t spare him a glance over my shoulder. But I bet his smug ass looked damn fine as he swaggered away.
Pete
PeterelishedShorty’sflamingflusterment the entire trek into Keitha Ronan, for he loved watching her milky skin flush like a rose in bloom. A rose he couldn’t pluck, but a rose still and all. And who didn’t love looking at a rose?
Imagining Shorty’s shock when he finally confessed knowing what ketchup was, Pete filtered into the foot traffic along the main promenade through town.
Keitha Ronan teemed with merchants and travelers alike. One to sell the goods, the other to purchase them. He never journeyed anywhere without stopping there. Many of the shopkeeps knew him by name and offered him goodly discounts for his charm and good humor. They didn’t even mind his profession, as he didn’t stomp about brooding or dragooning—behavioral habits of most harbingers.
