Page 83 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
“I’ll let you know when I find it.”
Judging from the way he closed his eyes, a deep furrow wrinkling the space between his brows, I was willing to bet he wasn’t looking for anything physical—he was looking for something in somebody’smind.
Fine by me. As long as he wasn’t taking or harming, only looking, I was content to stand there and squint at my old house for more signs of my fathers.
Smaller objects were whizzing through the kitchen now, spoons and spatulas and baking sheets. I could practically smell the cookies they were baking together, and the pang of homesickness became so strong that I had to look away before the tears in my lashes could spill.
Steeler’s eyes were still closed, his brow still furrowed, but he seemed to sense my attention anyway.
“Don’t judge me, Drey. I used to be able to do this kind of thing in a few seconds flat. Now…”
Now I’d scarred the use of his Mind Manipulating magic and taken half of it for myself. It was no wonder he had to concentrate so much harder. Still, I shot a glance behind us as anowl screeched in the distance and something else rustled in the foliage much closer.
“Not judging you this time,” I said, “but it might not be a good idea to stand in the middle of the jungle with your eyes closed nearing nighttime. There could be any number of predators nearby.”
“Good thing I have a Wild Whisperer to guard my back, then.”
I stared at the wry smile picking up his lips, even as he kept his eyes closed. My knives were still buckled to my thigh, yet he didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned that I might slice open his throat while he stood there unguarded.
Can you stop looking at me?he asked suddenly, his voice crashing through my blockade.The weight of your gaze is utterly distracting.
How can you tell I’m looking at you with your eyes closed?
Let’s call it a sixth sense, little hurricane.
Biting down on a smile, I jerked my gaze away, and decided to train it on the jungle behind us rather than the village and my fathers down below. The croaks, hoots, and screeches of nighttime were beginning to roll in, but a certain stillness within the darkness beyond my vision had the Wild Whispering part of me stilling as well.
Something was quiet—much too quiet—amid all the noise.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, they picked up on the reddish tint of a pair of feline eyes trained on Steeler as he continued to lean against the kapok.
“Hey!” I called out, just as I sensed the large cat lowering itself into a crouch.
It was smaller than Jagaros, but still lethal enough to do some serious damage with those claws if it pounced—probably a leopard. Which meant it would be territorial over any potential meal. Which meant I had to play its game.
When the leopard’s red-tinted eyes flicked over to me in surprise, I hissed, “Back off. He’smyprey.”
“Yours?”
The leopard slunk forward just enough for me to know I was in deep shit if I couldn’t convince it of my superiority in the next thirty seconds. It had obviously taken one glance at me and figured I was the smaller, weaker one of the two.
“Mine,” I repeated firmly, hand floating to my sheath.
I shifted my body until I was between the leopard’s line of vision and Steeler himself—Steeler, who hadn’t moved an inch from his position against the goddamned tree, as if he didn’t know or care that he’d just become a wild cat’s next hopeful snack.
“If he is yours,” the leopard purred, “then why haven’t you sunk your claws into him yet?”
I hesitated, hit hard with the question, and that single pause was my downfall.
“Oh, that’s right.You don’thaveclaws.”
And it pounced.
Not at Steeler. At me.
I was already ducking and twisting, a knife in each hand. I dragged each one down the leopard’s backside in two quick slashes, mimicking claw marks—not deep enough to seriously maim, but just enough to sting a little. To warn away.
When the cat screeched, rolling over the foliage and slamming into a protruding tree root, I snarled, “No, but I have these.”
