Magician's Touch (Deadly Touch book 3) Chapter 12: 12: There's More …

Read chapter 12 of Magician's Touch (Deadly Touch book 3) by Deb E Howell on NovelPedia.

Once again, Raena finished up an inspection of Jonas’s stump and replaced his bandage. She no longer applied tin, just a gauze patch and bandage wrappings. Llew lounged in the chair, as pleased to hear positive murmurs between Raena and Elka as she was to have no expectations to meet. Jonas’s phantom limb pain and restlessness had woken him and Llew several times in the night. With them being confined to this single room, though, they were just as likely to sleep in the day when boredom reached a peak. Jonas wore one of Raena’s father’s – Elka’s grandfather’s – shirts over a singlet. The two women helped him back into a pair of fine wool trousers and pinned up the right leg. His mood had improved since he could wear clothing again. Mr Greving was a good fit for Jonas. And Raena wasn’t too far off Llew. Although the Turhmosian woman generally preferred dresses or a skirt and blouse pairing, she had some dress trousers she hadn’t worn in some time and was happy to pass them on to Llew. Llew hadn’t liked any of the blouses, so Elka’s grandfather had to sacrifice a second shirt. It’s elbows were thinning, so Llew believed Raena when she said it had been due to be tossed anyway and its absence would go unnoticed. Quick, heavy steps on the stairway saw the room settle into a tense silence, all eyes on the door. “Leela’s out?” Elka asked quietly. “Yes. She was,” Raena murmured in response. The footsteps moved swiftly along the corridor, with no care for stealth. Jonas pushed himself up to sit, swinging his leg over the side of the bed. Llew brought her feet in and leaned forward in the chair, ready to leap up and take whatever action was necessary. The handle turned, and the door swept open. Rowan ducked his head as he stepped through the door and the tension dispersed in a collective sigh. But the furtive glances he directed around the room suggested the newspaper he carried brought no cause for celebration. He closed the door behind him, unfolded the paper and displayed the front page. Disturbingly accurate likenesses of Llew and Jonas looked out at them from beneath the headline: Syakaran lives; on run with escaped Syaenuk. REWARDS. “Yes. I did that, too.” Rowan nodded at Llew’s gaping mouth. She closed it and glared at the paper, but the print below the headline was too small to discern from halfway across the room. She stood and approached him. “Sy—” Elka lisped behind her. “That makes sense,” Raena murmured. Llew glanced up at Rowan as she reached for the paper. He looked unblinkingly back at her. A look that implied no threat and did nothing to deny that he might know more than she and Jonas wanted him to. He let her take the paper and she skimmed the article seeking only confirmation of how much more trouble she and Jonas might find in Turhmos, or indeed this household. And, sure enough, it was all there. Braph must’ve spoken to someone, for it was he who received the credit for Jonas now being powerless. She supposed she should be grateful they were wanted alive. That wouldn’t make it easy for the average Turhmosian to collect on the bounty. But how could they have known about the surgery? Or, how much could Rowan share? He moved freely in and out of this household. The incentives to leak information were surely stronger than any loyalty to Llew and Jonas. She shifted her gaze to him again, not meeting his eyes, taking in his height and build. Taller and thicker set than Jonas, he’d be a tough opponent. But Llew had spent weeks sparring with Jonas and Hisham. She was almost sure she could take him, if need be. “It’s going to be a lot harder to move across Turhmos, now,” Rowan said. Llew examined his tone for a hint of threat but found nothing obvious. She raised her eyes to meet his from beneath her brow, trying to get a read off him, while remaining aware of the rest of his body. If he made a move, she would be ready. “But I think we can do it,” Rowan finished. “We?” Llew asked as Jonas queried, “What’s it say?” With no sig