Magician's Touch (Deadly Touch book 3) Chapter 3: 3: The Good Son

Read chapter 3 of Magician's Touch (Deadly Touch book 3) by Deb E Howell on NovelPedia.

After the frost from a clear night, low cloud moved in, bringing drizzle. Then it took to raining in the afternoon. Now, instead of the beads of drizzle slowly seeping through their clothing, each drop penetrated the cotton immediately, biting at Llew’s skin with its cold. Their hair and clothes clung to them, and Jonas’s shirt proved too thin, as the black lines of his gryphon tattoo showed through, even against his golden brown skin. The shirt’s stripes broke it up, but it didn’t take much to resolve the image if you knew what you were looking for. It certainly wasn’t a disguise they could count on. One advantage of simply having no option but to keep moving was that at least it kept Llew somewhat warm against the damp chill even as the dark of another night set in. Their pace shackled by hunger, and Jonas’s injuries, they hadn’t found a town in which to seek help, yet. The uneven ground presented its own challenges in the dark, and Jonas was starting to make more involuntary sounds as they went. She reached out to offer comfort only to find his hand cold and clammy. She cursed under her breath. There was nothing they could do but push on through mud and clamber over rocky outcrops; just keep on moving. A little before sunrise, they dared approach a wooden building backing up to the river. The building had no obvious purpose, no trinkets of industry, or decoration. The building was raised, wooden boards hiding an empty cavity beneath, suggesting the currently slow river might flood occasionally. All was quiet. The only sign of life: the aroma of freshly baking bread – from humble kitchen or bakery, they didn’t know, but either would suffice – and wood smoke. Desperation reeled them in. They loitered around the side of the bakery. The smell only made them hungrier, emphasizing the fact they hadn’t eaten anything substantial for more than a day. Torturous as it was, enveloped in that smell, it was also their best chance of meeting a friendly local. The rain eased back to a shower, so they were merely soaking rather than sopping. Time ticked on and Jonas blew out and sucked in shaky breaths, hugging himself in an effort to keep warm. Llew might’ve hugged him herself, but they needed more than that. They needed somewhere warm and dry, like a living space above a bakery. They were running out of options. They would have to take the risk. “I’ll go in alone,” she said. “If they’re hostile, I’ll get away easier and we can try the next place.” Nothing that would smell as good as this, though. Jonas nodded and sprayed rain from his lips as he blasted a breath between his teeth. As time went on, he struggled more and more to hide his pain and misery from Llew – or any potential threats. They had better not be hostile. A door opened, a bell jingled, a door closed. Perhaps a patron leaving the bakery. Llew waited a few moments, giving the customer time to leave before she peeled away to approach the entry. Steps led up to a door with a single word: Bakery, and a painting of a range of loaves beside. Her mouth watered. She hoped they were friendly. She gripped the handrail and put her foot on the bottom step. The door opened, its entry bell ringing again, and a young woman about Llew’s age with a jute sack clamped under one arm and about to open an umbrella looked down at Llew. And Llew looked up at her. There was something about the girl. Most would likely call her plain, with brown hair and blue eyes not unlike Llew’s. But there was something else. Didn’t matter. If she wasn’t the baker she was of no use to Llew. Just hurry on down the stairs and away, young lady. The girl backed up. The door closed again, the girl disappearing inside. Indecision froze Llew to the spot. Why had the young woman returned inside? Could it be she was such a kind soul she was going to buy another loaf of bread for Llew? It seemed too good to be true, and not nearly as convincing as the idea that a description of the escaped Aenuk had been spread far and wide