Page 34 of The Last Necromancer
"Eat, Half Pint," he commanded. "Growing boy like you should eat every crumb."
Seth emerged from the bedroom carrying jugs and bowls. He mouthed, "What's so amusing?" at Gus, but Gus merely shrugged.
"You know what you must do," Fitzroy told them.
"Yes, sir," Seth said. "We'll head out now."
Fitzroy locked the door after they left then settled back at his desk. He read the newspaper flattened out before him and absently ate his breakfast. I ate all of the bacon on my plate. It was one of the foods I'd missed in the last five years, and I savored every bite. I didn't touch the rest. The bacon had filled me up.
"You do not eat," Fitzroy said, some time later when he approached.
"I'm not hungry."
"If you don't eat, you won't grow."
"Perhaps I like being short and thin."
"No boy likes being short and thin."
I watched him for signs that he suspected, but he was already turning away from me. He paced the room, covering the entire length quickly with his long strides. He seemed agitated or frustrated.
"I'm sure they're doing as you asked," I said.
He stopped and looked at me. Then he began pacing again. Back and forth, back and forth for an eternity, it seemed. I turned my back to him and read, but the rhythm of his footsteps distracted me. I plugged my ears with my fingers but the rhythm continued to tread through my head and it was difficult to keep the book open with my elbows.
With a sigh, I withdrew my fingers and closed the book. "Are you worried about them?"
"No." He almost sounded amused at the idea. Almost.
"Are you concerned they'll fail?"
"Somewhat."
But not enough to warrant the pacing, I thought. "Are you concerned they'll give away too much about you and the ministry?"
"They're not that incompetent."
Perhaps he was disappointed with the way the dinner with Lady Harcourt had ended the night before. Perhaps he didn't like her leaving on a sour note. Yet he'd shown no such qualms upon her departure. Curious.
He finally stopped pacing long enough to glance out the window. He looked to the bright blue sky, to left then right, and up at the sky again. Then he continued pacing.
I got up and padded barefoot to the window to see what he was looking at. There was nothing but gravel drive, garden, trees and sky. The roses were like jewels dropped on a carpet of green, and the sky was bluer than I'd seen it in an age. There must be a northerly breeze blowing the factory smog away, and most homes wouldn't light fires in summer except in the kitchen. I was so used to being surrounded by gray and brown that my eyes hurt from the dazzling sunshine and bright colors. It was a perfect day and I ached to be outside.
Now I understood Fitzroy's frustration. He didn't like being shut inside his rooms any more than I did—perhaps less so. While I was content with the books, he seemed to need to move and there simply wasn't enough space.
"Put on your shoes." His voice came from closer behind me than I realized and I jumped.
"Where are we going?"
"Outside."
I rolled my eyes at his back as I followed him into the bedroom. "Anywhere specific?"
"No."
A few minutes later we were walking across the lawn. I had to take twice as many steps to keep up with his long strides but I didn't mind. I liked stretching my limbs and feeling the blood pump through my veins. If I'd been a lady, we would have slowed to an amble, but I didn't want to amble. I wanted to run. I wondered what he'd do if I took off. Tackle me to the ground? Jerk me to a stop by my hair? Or race me?
I settled for the brisk walk. We didn't speak as we passed the rose garden and the lily pond, where a frog croaked a greeting. We headed toward the stand of trees at the edge of the property then abruptly changed direction and headed back toward the house. I wasn't ready to return inside, even though I was hot under my layers of shirt and jacket.
