The Wizard's Heir Read Free

think you should know that I wasn’t staring at you. I was simply debating whether or not I should tell you . . . there’s an absolutely enormous spider on your shoulder.”
    Auriella yelped and leapt to her feet, swatting at her shoulder.
    “See, that’s why I didn’t say anything.” He shrugged. “You always overreact.”
    “Tybolt.” She huffed. “Just…get to work.”
    “Of course, My Lady.” Tybolt lowered his head. His shoulder-length hair fell forward, covering his smile. “Your wish is my command.”
    She pursed her lips and shoved a handful of dried pine needles underneath the wood she’d stacked. “You know, Tybolt, I would really like to hate you.”
    “I know, but it’s just so difficult to do.”
    She finally laughed, displaying that genuine smile he didn’t see nearly enough. The smile that lit up her face in a way that made his heart sing.
    Auriella took flint from her pocket and scraped her knife against it, flicking tiny crimson embers into the tender. It took only a little coaxing before flames erupted, announcing their arrival with faint crackling. She stood and brushed off her knees. “I’m going to get dinner.”
    “Try to find something tasty, will you?” Tybolt said.
    “Of course. I’ll see if I can’t locate some bacon growing on a tree,” she called back. “Or perhaps if we’re lucky, I might find some puff pastries in little baskets just waiting for us.”
    “That would be wonderful!” he shouted after her, taking the final swing with his ax. “Maybe even some chocolate cake if you can find some.”
    He smiled to himself and gathered an armful of wood, tossing the logs one by one onto the platforms he’d already made. Tybolt leapt fifteen feet straight up, grabbed the nearest branch, and spun himself around it. A few leaps between the platform and the place he’d chosen, a few lashings, and the third platform was finished.
    Tybolt glanced down and caught the eyes of the wizard, something he tried to avoid. The worst part of hunting, the very worst part, was the look in the wizards’ eyes once they’d been caught. Their eyes brimmed with terror and occasionally anger. Every emotion that poured from their eyes left an inexplicable river of guilt running though his soul.
    Today was different. This wizard’s eyes were full of curiosity.
     

     
    Tybolt sat next to the fire with his back to the wizard while he carved a piece of wood into a little brown bear. He looked up as Auriella emerged from the trees. Four rabbits dangled from her hand. “Rabbit? I tell you to bring back something tasty, and you bring back rabbit?”
    “It was either that or a huge chocolate cake that someone left in the middle of the woods. I found its presence suspicious and thought it may have been poisoned, so I went with the rabbits.”
    “Mmmm.” Tybolt tapped the tip of his knife to his temple. “Very wise. Rabbit it is.”
    Auriella sat next to him and handed him two of the rabbits before beginning to skin hers. “Did you make skewers to roast these on? Or did you waste all your time carving animals?”
    “I was hoping for chocolate cake or bacon, neither of which need a skewer, but yes—I made a few just in case I was destined for disappointment. My luck never was that great.” Tybolt sighed with enough dramatic emphasis that he couldn’t keep a straight face.
    Auriella shook her head. “I don’t know where you came from, Tybolt. I really don’t.”
    “Why? Because Hunters are bitter, angry people who waste their time grunting obscenities and having pissing matches with each other?”
    “Yes. That’s why.”
    He smiled as he slit the rabbit’s belly and removed the entrails. “I don’t know what there is to be so angry about.”
    Auriella’s face darkened, and the mirth Tybolt had worked so hard to unearth was sucked out of the camp. “I have a lot to be angry about.”
    He looked thoughtfully down at his rabbit before skewering it. “I would say you had a lot to be