Page 31 of Kill the Beast
Alderic threaded his fingers through hers and closed his eyes. It was an effort not to flinch away from his touch—when was the last time someone had held her hand?
She studied him for a moment; there was something nagging at her about his face. Then she realized what it was. His nose, which she was fairly certain she’d broken when she punched him, had a mere wisp of a bruise that could have been the shadow of the leaves overhead.
When she pointed it out to him, he opened his eyes again and said, “I told you, I have a good metabolism.”
“I’m not sure metabolism works that way,” she said.
“Are we going to stand here all day and chat about my exquisite features and peak physical condition? Or are we going to begin our quest?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right, keep your pants on. And don’t let go of me.” Then she shouted, “Warham!” and they stepped through the Gate.
CHAPTER
NINE
“WHY HERE?”ALDERICasked, gazing around at the Buxton Fields Memorial Park. He was paler than usual, and grimacing like he was going to be sick again. Lyssa couldn’t blame him; crossing through the Gate took some getting used to.
“The barrier between worlds is thinner in some places,” Nadia explained. She was sitting cross-legged on one of the stone benches scattered throughout the park, stroking Brandy’s ears. “It’s easier for the Gate to spit us out in spots where it’s thin.”
It was early afternoon in Warham, the sun bright and the sky the unforgiving blue of a winter’s day. Cold, but not dismal, and there were even more people bustling about on the streets as a result.
Nadia kept a tight grip on the wagon handle as they shoved their way through the crowds. The wagon itself was piled high with goods to sell, to supplement the coin that Lyssa had brought home from the troll-job—ladles and spoons that Ragnhild had carved; cord bracelets that Nadia had woven; the weapons, kitchen cutlery, and protective talismans Lyssa had gathered from the finished-pieces basket on her worktable before they left.
Alderic lagged behind. At first Lyssa thought he was just caught up in the crowds, but when she and Nadia stopped at an intersection to allow him to catch up, she realized that he was limping.
“Everything okay?” she asked, and he gave her a look of stern reproach.
“We have passed at least a dozen coachyards,” he said through gritted teeth. “We are stopping at the next one, and I am hiring us a cab.”
“You will do no such thing,” Lyssa said.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a waste of money.” And a waste of life, when the thing inevitably crashed and killed everyone inside. She patted her thighs. “The marrowbone stagecoach is free.”
“The what?” Alderic looked at her like she’d gone insane.
“She means walking,” Nadia said with a roll of her eyes.
“Well,walkingis ruining my shoes.” He lifted one of his feet and prodded at the bottom; sure enough, the heel was coming off.
“Good,” Lyssa said. “They’re atrocious.”
“As if you’re any sort of judge, wearing those big ugly shapeless things the color of old mud.”
“They may be ugly, but my feet feel nice and cozy. How are yours?” At his glare, she said, “That’s what I thought. Now, let’s go get you some footwear that won’t hobble you permanently. It’s only another mile.”
Alderic groaned. “Oh,onlyanother mile!”
When they reached the market square, Alderic made a rather pathetic, limping beeline for the first clothier they saw with a display of satin waistcoats in the window. They were even gaudier than the one he had on.
Lyssa grabbed his shoulders and steered him away. “We are looking forpracticalandunobtrusive,” she reminded him. “Like that one.” She pointed to a shop across the street with woolen traveling cloaks in the window, in shades of gray and brown.
He looked at her like she had asked him to spit in a baby’s face. “But—”
“Let’s just try it.”
For a moment it looked like he was going to argue with her, but then he sighed. “If I must.”
