down. He would have to fall about six feet. He swallowed once, took a deep breath, and let go.
The wind fluttered through his hair and past his face as he fell. His feet hit first, sending a jolt through his body that ran up his spine and caused him to lose his balance. He sat ungraciously in the dust. The cats scattered, but the drunk didn’t wake up. The valise landed beside him with a soft thud. Seymour looked up. Byron hung from the window, his cape flapping in the wind. Byron dropped to the ground like a large bird, landed on his feet, and turned to Seymour.
“We’re getting those boys,” Byron said.
Seymour stood up, wiping the dust from his new trousers. He picked up the valise. “Lord Dakin probably has a horse in the stable.”
“If he’s inside laughing, he’s not going to use it right away.”
“I don’t see why we have to risk our lives for two common street urchins.”
Byron’s body straightened and his expression grew hard. “I’m going back for the boys. You can leave without me if you like.”
“And face Lord Dakin alone? No, thank you.”
Byron nodded once, then turned, and walked toward the stable. Seymour followed. The anger and fear made him giddy, and his back ached from the fall. The valise felt heavy in his hands.
The stable stood next to the inn. The stable was an old building; it leaned slightly to one side. As Byron pushed open the door, a horse nickered. Inside, the stable was warm. The smells of hay and leather overlay the animal scents.
Seymour slipped around Byron and looked for the boys. They huddled together on a pile of hay, a stable blanket over them to keep out the night’s chill. Byron bent over them to wake them, when Afeno’s eyes snapped open.
“We’re leaving,” Byron said.
“It’s the middle of the night.” Afeno’s voice was wary.
Seymour glanced at the door. He could see nothing out there. Supposed Lord Dakin was looking for them already. He would go with the innkeeper to their rooms, find them empty, and come to the stables.
“We had some trouble,” Byron said.
“And you’re running from it?”
Seymour turned. The boy would have run, too, if he were facing a similar threat. “Look, we didn’t have to come get you, but Byron insisted. Now get up and come with us. Every minute you waste hurts us.”
Colin stirred and sat up. He brushed hay from his clothes and his hair. The fear Seymour felt was reflected in the younger boy’s face.
Afeno tossed the blanket aside. “Where are we going?”
“As far from here as possible,” Seymour said.
Afeno stood. He didn’t bother to clean the hay off his new clothes. “Should we take a horse?”
Byron shook his head. “We’ll be easier to spot on horseback. Dakin won’t think of looking for two men and two boys.”
“Lord Dakin?” Colin asked. His voice squeaked with fear.
“That’s right. He’s inside.”
A loud crash outside the stable made them freeze. Seymour thought his heart was going to jump through his chest. Dakin was out there. They wouldn’t be able to escape.
Afeno crouched and ran for the door. Byron grabbed at him but missed. Afeno slipped outside. Seymour started to follow, but Byron put a hand on his arm.
“He knows what he’s doing,” Byron whispered.
Seymour held his breath. He silently reviewed all the spells he knew. He could draw moisture from the air to make water; he could create a fire by rubbing his hands together; he could make one object appear to be another, but he couldn’t make people disappear. His father could do almost anything with his magic. He had a strong luck web and knew how to call the correct spirits. He had been able to memorize anything immediately and would use the spell perfectly each time. But Seymour only knew fifteen spells–and most of them didn’t work.
Something cracked outside, and then someone moaned. There was a loud thud. Byron took a step forward, but Seymour shook his head. They didn’t dare go out there, not if
The wind fluttered through his hair and past his face as he fell. His feet hit first, sending a jolt through his body that ran up his spine and caused him to lose his balance. He sat ungraciously in the dust. The cats scattered, but the drunk didn’t wake up. The valise landed beside him with a soft thud. Seymour looked up. Byron hung from the window, his cape flapping in the wind. Byron dropped to the ground like a large bird, landed on his feet, and turned to Seymour.
“We’re getting those boys,” Byron said.
Seymour stood up, wiping the dust from his new trousers. He picked up the valise. “Lord Dakin probably has a horse in the stable.”
“If he’s inside laughing, he’s not going to use it right away.”
“I don’t see why we have to risk our lives for two common street urchins.”
Byron’s body straightened and his expression grew hard. “I’m going back for the boys. You can leave without me if you like.”
“And face Lord Dakin alone? No, thank you.”
Byron nodded once, then turned, and walked toward the stable. Seymour followed. The anger and fear made him giddy, and his back ached from the fall. The valise felt heavy in his hands.
The stable stood next to the inn. The stable was an old building; it leaned slightly to one side. As Byron pushed open the door, a horse nickered. Inside, the stable was warm. The smells of hay and leather overlay the animal scents.
Seymour slipped around Byron and looked for the boys. They huddled together on a pile of hay, a stable blanket over them to keep out the night’s chill. Byron bent over them to wake them, when Afeno’s eyes snapped open.
“We’re leaving,” Byron said.
“It’s the middle of the night.” Afeno’s voice was wary.
Seymour glanced at the door. He could see nothing out there. Supposed Lord Dakin was looking for them already. He would go with the innkeeper to their rooms, find them empty, and come to the stables.
“We had some trouble,” Byron said.
“And you’re running from it?”
Seymour turned. The boy would have run, too, if he were facing a similar threat. “Look, we didn’t have to come get you, but Byron insisted. Now get up and come with us. Every minute you waste hurts us.”
Colin stirred and sat up. He brushed hay from his clothes and his hair. The fear Seymour felt was reflected in the younger boy’s face.
Afeno tossed the blanket aside. “Where are we going?”
“As far from here as possible,” Seymour said.
Afeno stood. He didn’t bother to clean the hay off his new clothes. “Should we take a horse?”
Byron shook his head. “We’ll be easier to spot on horseback. Dakin won’t think of looking for two men and two boys.”
“Lord Dakin?” Colin asked. His voice squeaked with fear.
“That’s right. He’s inside.”
A loud crash outside the stable made them freeze. Seymour thought his heart was going to jump through his chest. Dakin was out there. They wouldn’t be able to escape.
Afeno crouched and ran for the door. Byron grabbed at him but missed. Afeno slipped outside. Seymour started to follow, but Byron put a hand on his arm.
“He knows what he’s doing,” Byron whispered.
Seymour held his breath. He silently reviewed all the spells he knew. He could draw moisture from the air to make water; he could create a fire by rubbing his hands together; he could make one object appear to be another, but he couldn’t make people disappear. His father could do almost anything with his magic. He had a strong luck web and knew how to call the correct spirits. He had been able to memorize anything immediately and would use the spell perfectly each time. But Seymour only knew fifteen spells–and most of them didn’t work.
Something cracked outside, and then someone moaned. There was a loud thud. Byron took a step forward, but Seymour shook his head. They didn’t dare go out there, not if
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