Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 66 - Sean

The rising sun tries to use the snow to blind me as I trudge toward the barn to feed the robed man. Approximately a third of the way there, Idyne comes run-stumbling through the snow behind me.

"Sean! Sean!"

I spin. "Are you trying to get us caught?" I hiss. "Lower your voice."

She catches up, breathing hard, and puts a hand on her hip. "Sorry. I just figured you didn't want to walk all the way there just to see he'd already been fed."

"Oh." I turn, annoyed, and start back to the farmhouse. Idyne follows me. I guess the cloth-wrapped bundle in my hand is Veradeaux's breakfast now.

I don't like the idea of Aster carting along the two dangerous prisoners on our trek. There are too many things that could go wrong. But I also don't want them able to roam freely—frustratingly, them coming is better than nothing.

Eyes closed, I shoulder open the farmhouse door. More and more, I can't stand to touch the wood of this place. It feels like a disease—malevolent and impartial. Shuddering as I pass the threshold, I make my way to the last room and, unlocking it, step inside. Veradeaux sits in the floor, twine binding her wrists in front of her and pinching her fingers together. I set the open cloth down within her reach.

"You expect me to eat with my hands tied this way?" Her voice is pitiful and pleading, like the girls who couldn't get a passing grade and used to beg for my homework.

I snort. "Have fun." I turn away. "I'm not untying you." I didn't give them my homework either.

"You can't be leaving already?" A hint of desperation tinges her voice. "We could talk. I—" She straightens, as though trying to pretend she's in a real chair instead of on the bare floor. "I have some information you might find interesting."

My conscience twinges at just leaving her here. I remember being alone in this—that house. But this isn't that house, and she is not a seven-year-old boy. "That's nice." I reach for the door.

"Aster's not who he says he is!"

I laugh, glancing back at her. "How would you know who he's told us he is?"

"I don't. But I know him well enough to know he didn't tell you the truth." There's a calculating gleam in her eyes, the confident look of a gambler.

I cross my arms, considering. She could easily lie to me here. In fact, she probably will. But I see no harm in letting her speak. "Then what's the truth?" I prompt.

"He's not just any caster."

I shift. "What is he?"

A smile slips onto her lips. "A runaway. From what, where, and why, I'll tell you when you unbind me."

"Is he dangerous?"

"His lies could be."

"Why?"