He was about to say something like he didn’t know what she was talking about with the Pack, and of course he wasn’t an E?ian. But before he could get this out, the girl’s head cocked slightly to one side, listening, and then she snuffed the lantern. The hayloft was plunged into inky blackness.
“Wha—” he started, but she stepped close and put a finger to his lips to quiet him, and he lost his train of thought.
Below them, the barn door opened. A man bearing a lantern shuffled in. He spent a few minutes feeding the animals, all the while grumbling about the rain. The entire time Edward and the girl stood frozen in the hayloft, a breath away from each other, her finger still against his lips.
Even in the dark, her eyes were green. Like the emeralds in the crown jewels.
He was holding his breath. He wanted to kiss her, he realized, which was ludicrous. She’d been holding a knife at his throat moments ago. She was a stranger. She was a woman who wore pants. She couldn’t be trusted.
Still, there she was, her finger against his lips, making him think of putting his lips on her lips. And when his gaze dropped, from her eyes to her lips, a girlish flush spread over her cheeks. Which made him want to kiss her even more.
The farmer went out.
The girl stepped back, the humor gone out of her expression. She cleared her throat and fingered the knife in her belt nervously.
“I should go,” she said.
For some reason, this was the last thing he expected—for her to leave now, after she’d woken him and threatened him and questioned him so relentlessly. Now she was leaving? And he didn’t want her to go.
“But it’s raining.” This sounded lame even to him. “And you haven’t found out who I am yet.”
She shrugged. “Sadly, I don’t care that much.”
She moved toward the ladder that would take her down to the barn floor. In another minute she’d be gone, and he’d be here in the same situation he’d started in—no clothes, no money, no plan. Alone.
“Wait,” he called.
She started down the ladder. She’d just reached the bottom when the barn door swung open, and there was the farmer again, this time holding a rusted old sword. The girl moved like she would run, but the farmer thrust the business end of the blade right at her chest. She froze.
“I knew you was in here,” the farmer growled. “Couldn’t stay away from my chickens, could you? Had to come back for the rest.”
She lifted her hands in a kind of surrender, but that aggravating smile tugged at her mouth. “They were very tasty chickens. I couldn’t help myself.”
The farmer snorted in disgust. “I ought to run you through right here and be done with you. But I’ll turn you over to the magistrate in the morning, and he’ll cut off one of your hands. That’ll teach you.”
I should do something, Edward thought. Save her, somehow. But he was naked and unarmed. Not exactly a knight in shining armor.
The girl stood up straighter. “Or what about this? You let me go, and I’ll steer clear of your chickens in the future.” Without waiting for an answer to her proposal, she feinted to one side and then darted to the other, but the man caught her by the hair. He dragged her away from the door. She struggled, reaching for her knife, but he grabbed it first and tossed it onto the dirt floor.
I really should do something, Edward thought. Now would be good.
“Or maybe,” the farmer said. “I’ll cut off your hand myself. . . .”
Okay, that does it, Edward thought.
There was a flash of light in the hayloft. The farmer looked up, startled, and then the bird that was Edward descended on him, talons clawing at the man’s face. The farmer screamed and released his sword. The girl took this opportunity to knee the farmer in the acorns. He dropped to the floor. She kicked him. She paused then, as if she might say something, one of her smart little lines, but she seemed to think better of it. She just grabbed up her knife and ran.
Edward followed her as best as he could from above. It was a good thing that as a bird he had sharp eyes, because she had a skill for melting into the shadows of the forest. It was difficult for him to navigate the trees. The rain was letting up, at least, a drizzle now, and the moon peeked between the clouds. The girl ran on and on, light on her feet, pacing herself, as if she were accustomed to taking such outings in the middle of the night.
She went for more than a mile or two before she stopped in a small grove to rest. Edward fluttered to the branches in the tree above her. She glanced up.
“Should I be worried about bird droppings on my head?” she laughed at him.
He gave an indignant squawk.
“Come down. You can change back now.” She swung her cloak from off her shoulders. “Here.”
He dropped to the ground, but then he stood there for several minutes in bird form without anything flashy happening.
“You really are a greenie, aren’t you?” she asked. “Do you not even know how to change back, then?”