a rabbit named Vita. You’ll probably see it.”
He laid his hands flat on the table and looked me in the eye. “Can I be totally candid
with you?”
“Of course.” I sat up straighter, preparing myself for any number of inflammatory
statements he might make. “I’m your tracker. You can always speak freely with me.”
“You guys are super-weird.”
NINE
regret
“I can’t do this,” I announced as I threw the office door open. It swung back harder
than I meant for it to, and when the doorknob banged into the brick wall, Ridley grimaced.
“If by ‘this’ you mean knocking, then yes, that’s very apparent,” he said dryly.
I flopped in the chair across from his large oak desk. A wide-screen monitor for his
computer was tilted toward the edge of the desk. Being trolls, we craved all things
shiny and new.
Our love of such things extended to the latest gadgets and fastest technology, but
once we had them, it seemed that we usually preferred the old ways of doing things.
The Kanin royalty collected computers and tablets the way others did baseball cards—storing
them in boxes and closets and out of sight.
That’s why the Rektor’s office contained a high-speed computer, a massive printer,
and all sorts of devices that would make his work so much easier, but it was rarely
used. Stacks of paper covered the desk, since, inevitably, most things were done by
hand.
A bulletin board on one side of the room was overflowing with flyers. Reminders for
meetings and trainings, sign-up sheets for less glamorous jobs like cleaning out the
garage, and missing persons posters for the rare changeling who ran away.
Behind Ridley’s desk were two massive paintings of King Evert and Queen Mina. The
rest of the wall was covered in smaller eight-by-tens of the latest changelings who
had come back, as a reminder of why we did the job.
Outside the office, classes were in session, so I could hear the muted sounds of kids
talking.
“I can’t stay here,” I told Ridley.
“Like in this office?” He scribbled something down on a piece of paper in front of
him, then he looked at me. “Or can you be more specific?”
“I can’t stay in Doldastam,” I said. His shoulders slacked, and he set the pen down.
“Linus is safe. He’s fine. There are tons of people here to watch him. I have no reason
to stay.”
“That’s true,” he said sarcastically, then he snapped his fingers like something had
just occurred to him. “Oh, wait. There is that one reason. The King ordered you to stay and personally watch Linus.”
I rubbed my forehead, hating that he was right. “I need a break.”
“A break?” Ridley asked in confused shock, and for a few seconds he appeared speechless.
“You’re a workaholic. What nonsense are you going on about?”
“I’m not asking to do nothing,” I clarified. “I need a break from here. I just got
done breaking in the last changeling, and that went fine, but I was stuck here for
weeks and weeks. And then I just got to go out after Linus, and I had to turn around
and come back.”
He ran a hand along the dark stubble of his cheek. “What’s going on?” he asked, and
his tone softened. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Bryn.” From across the desk, he gave me a look—one that said he knew me too well
to let me bullshit him.
Instead of replying, I turned away from him. I twisted the silver band around my thumb
and looked over at the bulletin board, eyeing the wanted posters.
Any fugitive who was still at large had their picture up, even if they’d escaped years
ago. The incident with Viktor Dålig had to have happened fifteen years ago, but his
picture was still prominently displayed at the top of the wanted section. The bright
red font for “wanted” had faded to more of a dull pink, but his picture was still
clear and visible. The heavy dark black beard, his cold eyes, even the scar that ran
across his
He laid his hands flat on the table and looked me in the eye. “Can I be totally candid
with you?”
“Of course.” I sat up straighter, preparing myself for any number of inflammatory
statements he might make. “I’m your tracker. You can always speak freely with me.”
“You guys are super-weird.”
NINE
regret
“I can’t do this,” I announced as I threw the office door open. It swung back harder
than I meant for it to, and when the doorknob banged into the brick wall, Ridley grimaced.
“If by ‘this’ you mean knocking, then yes, that’s very apparent,” he said dryly.
I flopped in the chair across from his large oak desk. A wide-screen monitor for his
computer was tilted toward the edge of the desk. Being trolls, we craved all things
shiny and new.
Our love of such things extended to the latest gadgets and fastest technology, but
once we had them, it seemed that we usually preferred the old ways of doing things.
The Kanin royalty collected computers and tablets the way others did baseball cards—storing
them in boxes and closets and out of sight.
That’s why the Rektor’s office contained a high-speed computer, a massive printer,
and all sorts of devices that would make his work so much easier, but it was rarely
used. Stacks of paper covered the desk, since, inevitably, most things were done by
hand.
A bulletin board on one side of the room was overflowing with flyers. Reminders for
meetings and trainings, sign-up sheets for less glamorous jobs like cleaning out the
garage, and missing persons posters for the rare changeling who ran away.
Behind Ridley’s desk were two massive paintings of King Evert and Queen Mina. The
rest of the wall was covered in smaller eight-by-tens of the latest changelings who
had come back, as a reminder of why we did the job.
Outside the office, classes were in session, so I could hear the muted sounds of kids
talking.
“I can’t stay here,” I told Ridley.
“Like in this office?” He scribbled something down on a piece of paper in front of
him, then he looked at me. “Or can you be more specific?”
“I can’t stay in Doldastam,” I said. His shoulders slacked, and he set the pen down.
“Linus is safe. He’s fine. There are tons of people here to watch him. I have no reason
to stay.”
“That’s true,” he said sarcastically, then he snapped his fingers like something had
just occurred to him. “Oh, wait. There is that one reason. The King ordered you to stay and personally watch Linus.”
I rubbed my forehead, hating that he was right. “I need a break.”
“A break?” Ridley asked in confused shock, and for a few seconds he appeared speechless.
“You’re a workaholic. What nonsense are you going on about?”
“I’m not asking to do nothing,” I clarified. “I need a break from here. I just got
done breaking in the last changeling, and that went fine, but I was stuck here for
weeks and weeks. And then I just got to go out after Linus, and I had to turn around
and come back.”
He ran a hand along the dark stubble of his cheek. “What’s going on?” he asked, and
his tone softened. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Bryn.” From across the desk, he gave me a look—one that said he knew me too well
to let me bullshit him.
Instead of replying, I turned away from him. I twisted the silver band around my thumb
and looked over at the bulletin board, eyeing the wanted posters.
Any fugitive who was still at large had their picture up, even if they’d escaped years
ago. The incident with Viktor Dålig had to have happened fifteen years ago, but his
picture was still prominently displayed at the top of the wanted section. The bright
red font for “wanted” had faded to more of a dull pink, but his picture was still
clear and visible. The heavy dark black beard, his cold eyes, even the scar that ran
across his
Similar Books
