Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
“And Kipp?”
I huff with amusement at that. “Not Kipp. He’d stab my eyes out before he’d let anyone accuse her of anything.”
“Kipp is a good sort,” Hawk agrees. “Arrogant little shit, though. You’re still certain that our thief is in your Five?”
“To be honest, I’m not certain of anything anymore. Any strangeness with your Five?”
He shakes his head. “Model students. They’re all very determined not to repeat again, and work twice as hard as they need to on anything I assign them. I haven’t found a single thing to be suspicious of.” He pauses, and then adds with a grin, “Except for their inability to tell their right from their left.”
“Mmm.” I glance back at the door to his nest again. It bothers me to leave Gwenna alone with Sparrow, but surely she’ll be all right in there. I can’t imagine anyone would target her while she’s visiting a friend. Unless it’s all to distract me from Gwenna being the person I’m hunting for. I still haven’t ruled that out yet. It feels unlikely, but is it only because I’m lusting after her? It’s hard to trust myself. “I was suspicious of Gwenna, but I don’t know that she’s a good enough actress, especially when she’s targeting herself.”
“It’s not her. She’s too loyal. Good heart.”
“But she is a thief,” I remind him. We all know the story of how Gwenna had stolen something from the Everbelow and Sparrow tried to cover for her.
“She did it to save my wife. That’s different. She’s had many other opportunities and never stolen a thing.” Hawk turns and gives me a curious look. “Why are you so focused on her?”
Because I’m worried I’ll get blindsided.
I keep that to myself and only shrug. “I’m not.”
I am, though. Focused and obsessed and annoyed with myself because of it.
“It might not be the thieves targeting her anyhow,” Hawk comments. “More likely that it’s an old lover of hers who doesn’t want her in the guild.”
The thought scorches my brain and blisters with the force of my hot, searing jealousy. Another lover? Not that I expect her to be chaste, but she’s mine now.
Mine.
Gods, I need that potion right away. I’m acting like a jealous lover myself. I scrub a hand down my muzzle. “I don’t know of any lovers.”
Other than me.
Hawk shrugs, his attention veering back to his students. “It’s entirely possible that whoever is targeting Gwenna isn’t the thief we’re searching for after all. It could just be someone with an axe to grind against a woman trying to join the guild.”
Great. More to consider.
Thirty-Three
Gwenna
Spending time with my friends is just what I needed. Sparrow fusses over me the moment she sees I’m crying and leads me to the kitchen. My tears dry almost immediately because I hate feeling sorry for myself. Sparrow makes me sit at the table and pours me some hot tea and then begins to cut up some bread and cheese to make a snack tray. Poor thing is terrible at it, hacking at the cheese as best she can, but it’s sweet of her to try and so I don’t criticize.
“Tell me everything that’s been going on,” Sparrow insists, sawing at a block of cheese with what must be the dullest knife in all of creation.
Before I can launch into my tale of woe, a cat jumps onto my lap. It’s Squeaker, her fat orange cat from home. Squeaker made the trek from Honori Hold to Vastwarren City with us, and it feels as if she’s arrived to comfort me as well. “Well, hello there,” I coo to the cat, letting her make biscuits on my thighs before she settles onto my lap. I stroke her fur and immediately tufts of it float into the air. Sparrow fans the cat hair away from the cheese, and discreetly moves the plate a bit farther away so I can continue to pet the cat. I scratch at Squeaker’s ears, listening to her contented purring as Sparrow cusses at the cheese that’s fighting her.
Lark and Mereden show up before I get far into my story, and then we’re all hugging, with Squeaker making protesting sounds (but not getting off my lap). Lark drapes herself around my neck, snuggling me as if she hasn’t seen me in ages, and the tears threaten once more. “Are you loving being a fledgling again? I’m so stinking jealous!”
It makes me want to burst into fresh tears. “Actually, no. It’s a mucking nightmare.”
“Is someone being mean to you?” Mereden asks, offense bristling through her sweet, gentle voice. It’s almost comical to think that pleasant and easygoing Mereden is determined to defend me.
“Worse. I’m being set up.”
Lark hobbles over to the far side of the table, grabs the cheese plate for herself, and gestures that I should keep talking. “Tell us everything.”