The Valley of Lies (Lightkeepers #1)

Chapter THIRTY-FOUR: Zan

Thimble led Liss and Zan back to her village, bypassing the Fexes' camp they had yet to visit. An oversight they would soon need to remedy. Zan's chest and shoulder hurt from carrying his overstuffed pack. Earlier that morning, he'd filled it with as many onyx eyes and bezelberries as would fit and offered his borrowed cloak back to Liss. It was worse for wear from hiking and carrying the sticky fruit, but it was warm. Zan suspected Liss was accustomed to a milder climate in the southern valley, and it was getting colder as they traveled north. But she'd told him to wear it, and he'd obliged to avoid an argument. If there was one thing he knew about girls, having grown up near Ayer, it was to leave them alone once they'd made up their mind.

"Wait here. Thimble will bring bread."

"That would be wonderful, thank you!"

Liss' eyes lit up like they had in the quarry. Only this time, a different kind of magic was the cause. Zan doubted Thimble would have anything more than glorified crumbs to offer them, but he didn't want to spoil Liss' excitement, so he kept this to himself.

The rickety door of Pan and Kettle's cottage bounced shut behind the young brownie, leaving Liss and Zan alone in the middle of the village. They were like giants here. Zan could see over the tops of the cottages, and though Liss was small, even by Darkbane standards, he wagered she could kick one of the flimsy buildings in if she tried.

"Do you think this will break if I sit on it?" She hovered above the deck that wrapped around the cottage, her bottom and hands not quite touching the splintering boards.

"Probably." Zan found a mossy spot near a water barrel and sat down, leaving room in case Liss joined him. It was a relief to relax his tired limbs and not loom over everything. Although the brownies had disappeared inside their cottages, Zan knew they were being watched. Brownies were infamous spies. And unlike Thimble, they didn't always get caught.

He rifled through his pack and pulled out two onyx eyes, offering one to Liss. She shook her head.

"Had enough? Me too." He bit into the fruit's taut skin anyway, wiping the burst of juice from his chin with a finger, which he then licked clean. If water was scarce, he wouldn't waste it.

Liss watched him with a funny look on her face. Was she disgusted? Maybe she'd never had to wonder where her next meal would come from, her next sip of fresh water. But Zan was only being practical.

"You should eat it." He pushed the fruit into her hand. Letting her be stubborn and chilly was one thing. Dehydration was a different matter. "This climate will dry you out in hours."

Liss sat down across from him, facing the cottage. She leaned over her folded legs, resting the onyx eye on her knee. When Thimble came scrambling back outside, her arms laden with miniature loaves of dense bread, Liss reached out and caught several before they fell into the dusty path, almost dropping the fruit. But she held on and ate them as a meal, using tiny chunks of warm bread to absorb the dripping onyx eye juice.

Zan looked away, scratching his nose. Why hadn't he thought of that? Maybe his sister was onto something about his lack of manners.

"Where do you think Reis went?" she asked when she finished eating. Thimble had run back inside with the leftovers, promising to return with something even more delicious.

Zan shrugged, tucking away one of the tiny loaves for a midnight snack. "Don't know and don't care, as long as he stays out of our way. I'd hoped my gut feeling about him was wrong, but he's even worse than that. Keep your eye on Brisa, too. We would do well to remember what Reis said about his sister's kind words."

Liss' fingers must have been sticky. She held them apart like claws instead of wiping them on her cloak or licking them like he would have. She was probably used to washing her hands in a basin or stream and didn't know what to do in a village suffering a drought.

"I meant what I said earlier." She'd said a lot of things. Which was she referring to? "There's something not right about them, Brisa included."

Ah, that one. He lowered his voice to match her near-whisper. "Care to elaborate?" He offered his hand, but she just looked at it.

"Not right now."

"Fair enough." He stood up, brushing crumbs off his lap. The muscles in his shoulder spasmed painfully. He yawned and stretched his weary limbs, arching his back. It was more satisfying when he was a cat, but a lot of things were. "We should probably set up camp. It will be dark soon."

Liss glanced at the tiny cottage door. "Shouldn't we wait for Thimble?"

"No need." Zan thumbed toward the other side of the barrel nearest them. Twinkling laughter drifted out from behind it.

"Thimble!" Liss set her hands on her hips and leaned down to the emerging miscreant. "Did you lie about bringing more food so you could spy on us? I thought we were friends!"

The child's brown face turned rosy. "Thimble is sorry. Was Sneaking first, then getting food."

"Oh? And how much did you hear?"

"Something not right about them. Brisa's ink looted." Thimble hung her head, swaying from side to side. "Thimble not take it. Thimble not know Writing."

"What are you talking about?"

Zan stifled his laughter and kneeled down to the child, making sure she saw his frightful horns and reproachful glare. If he and Reis agreed on anything, it was that brownies shouldn't be coddled at any age. The difference was, his strategy was to hint at pointy weapons not actually use them.

"If we find out who took the ink," he said gravely, "there will be consequences."

Thimble's black eyes grew so large they threatened to swallow her tiny, mushroom-shaped head. "We not take it! Thimble promises."

"I believe you. Friends don't go Sneaking and Finding their friends' belongings, you hear? And don't let Pan tell you otherwise. We elvesies are smart, we know what's good."

Zan stood up and patted the child's head before turning to leave. He held out his hand to Liss again. She tried to hide her knee-jerk cringe by throwing him a grimacing smile. Before he could pull back his hand, however, she clamped down on it, drawing closer to him. Her fingers were sticky like he'd guessed, and his weren't. He was pretty sure neither of them wanted to think too hard about why that was.

They walked out of the village on high alert, dubious of the far side of every barrel, the swarms of shadows beneath each teetering deck. Zan used mindspeak to explain the misunderstanding with Thimble. Liss' resulting laughter was contagious, a lovely sound that echoed through him like a joyful song. In those brief moments, even the desiccated land seemed more colorful. It was easy to imagine how it must have once looked, and how it might look again if they succeeded in their quest.

No, he certainly wouldn't mind hearing that laughter more often.

"Do you think Thimble will heed your warning?" Liss asked as they crossed from the dusty stones onto the mossy forest path.

Zan snorted. "Not for a second. But I wouldn't worry too much about it. Brownies may be pests"–Liss frowned at the callback to the antleoch, making him wish he'd used a different euphemism–"but they have a strong sense of honor. A few loaves of bread won't be enough to settle the score between us."

"What will she do?"

"No idea." Zan squeezed her hand. "But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."