Locke scowled. “She was a pretty girl I never expected to see again. I certainly didn’t expect her to become a permanent fixture in my life.” Locke would do his duty and train her, but that had to be it. There was no room in him to care about her. Once you let those kinds of emotions in, it was a lot harder to hurl yourself into death’s path on a daily basis. “Besides … if I did look at her in a way that actually meant something, I would hardly want to introduce her to a life like ours.”
Locke left Ransom to cook and busied himself checking their supplies, far from where Roar wandered. When they sat down to eat, he listened to Jinx tell Roar about Taraanar. “If you thought the Eye was impressive, just wait until you see the Taraanese markets. They go on for what seems like forever, and even the nonmagic markets are a sight to behold. Rich tapestries and spices and pottery—”
Locke interrupted to ask Roar, “You speak Taraanese, right? That’s what you said before.”
Roar sipped soup from her spoon before answering, “I do.”
“But you’ve never been?”
She shook her head. “A childhood friend was Taraanese. I picked up most of it from her and practiced by reading books in the language.”
She was puzzling to be sure. There were ranking nobles that didn’t speak any other languages, and yet this girl from the streets spoke several.
“Well, go on,” Bait said. “Speak Taraanese to me.”
She laughed. “What do you want me to say?”
“Say I’m the most handsome man you’ve ever met, and you’re falling madly in love with me.”
“Does anyone else speak Taraanese?” she asked. No one answered, but Locke knew Duke understood it fairly well.
She turned to Bait with a small smile, and she spoke. Locke had no idea what she said, but he watched her mouth move as the low, soft sounds poured out. He had never found Taraanese a particularly beautiful language. So many of the sounds were made in the back of the mouth and throat that he often thought it sounded garbled or disjointed. But Roar made it sound like a purr, sweet and throaty.
“What did you say?” Locke asked, unable to help himself.
She did not answer but gave him a curious look and continued speaking, and this time he got the feeling it was about him. He made a vow then and there to learn Taraanese. He saw Duke duck his head to hide a smile, and he asked, “What’s she saying?”
Roar stopped midsound, her face blooming with red as she looked at Duke. Her voice shook as she asked in the common tongue, “You speak it?”
“Not nearly so well as you. But I understand enough to get by.”
“What did she say?” Bait asked, practically bouncing on the rock where he sat.
Duke answered, “She said you were like a small puppy. All excited energy and overflowing with love. And she hopes that you don’t drool like a puppy too.”
Everyone laughed, but Bait did not seem to mind. He didn’t know how to be serious. Sometimes Locke wondered if he did it on purpose, if it was easier to joke than face what was real. Everyone on this crew was here because they had left something worse behind. You did not choose this life if there was a better option waiting for you.
“I am overflowing with love,” Bait said. “And it’s all for you, Roar.” He gave a suggestive arch of his eyebrows, and Locke fought the urge to shove him into the campfire.
“All right, lover boy,” Jinx cut in. “Ease up before I lose my soup.”
Ransom mumbled between sips, “Watch out. Puppies will also try to hump your leg if you’re not careful.”
Roar gasped with laughter, her whole head thrown back. The normally silent Ransom cracked a smile.
Jinx added, “It’s true though. Bait really can’t be trusted.”
One corner of Roar’s mouth tipped up. “With my leg?”
Jinx cackled. “With anything. The novie thinks it’s funny to play pranks. He might flatter you now, but that won’t stop him from torturing you in the name of fun later.”
Locke added a second helping of soup to his bowl and said, “You might end up with a haircut like Jinx.”
Roar’s jaw dropped and she looked to the witch, whose hair was shorn on one side, a design cut into the hair just above her ear. “Bait cut your hair?”
Jinx laughed and smacked Locke on the arm. “Now who’s torturing the girl? Bait didn’t touch my hair. He’s not that stupid.”
“I don’t know,” Bait said, scratching his chin. “I might be. What do you think Ran would look like with only half a beard?”
“You would die before you found out,” Ran growled, causing Bait to change seats and sit closer to Roar.
Locke was still hung up on the words she had said in Taraanese. Unable to wait a moment longer, he asked, “What was it you said after the puppy thing?”
She froze and a flush rose on her cheeks. When she didn’t answer, he turned to Duke.
The old man shrugged. “Not sure. Couldn’t follow that part.”
Traitor.
Roar bit her lip and smiled at the old man. Whatever she said must not have been flattering. He stayed quiet after that, not wanting his foul mood to spill out for the others to see. Roar was freer with them, Jinx and Bait especially, and he wondered if it was because those two gave him a harder time than the rest. She would gravitate toward them.
Roar marveled over the berries Jinx had grown. She asked a dozen questions about how it worked and what seeds Jinx kept in supply. Between each question, she popped another berry in her mouth, closing her eyes to savor the sweetness. He made himself look away and start a discussion with Ransom and Duke. Roar was a distraction, and in his life distractions led to death.
After they finished their soup, Bait took Roar’s dirty bowl and offered to clean it with his. She said, “I can do it.”
“Nonsense. As my future wife, I intend to pamper you.” He finished the declaration with an exaggerated bow.
She laughed. “That’s kind. But I feel it’s only fair to warn you that marriage does not agree with me. I have already broken one betrothal. I’d hate to break you too.” It took every bit of Locke’s considerable control to continue looking uninterested as he cleaned his bowl.
Jinx chuckled, and Bait dropped to his knees in front of Roar. “You can break me. I think it will be worth it.”
She laughed again, a glowing flush to her cheeks. And Bait had put it there, not him. It was better that way. She and Bait would have more in common. They’d only added the novie to the crew six months prior.
But after he stowed his bowl, Locke found himself marching over anyway. “Are you done making a fool of yourself, novie? We need to get back on the road.”
Roar glared at him, but the rest were used to his bouts of surly behavior. Bait climbed up from his knees and gave a salute. “Yes, sir! Right away!”
Jinx rolled her eyes and sighed at Locke as she got up to leave too. When they were making their way back to their horses, he tried to think of something to say to ease the strain between him and Roar, but all that came out was, “Your hair is shorter.”
She took her time untying her horse, and when she finished, she turned to face Locke, her eyebrows raised nonchalantly. “Hmm?”
“Your hair. It’s shorter.”
She cleared her throat, and when her eyes stayed just shy of meeting his, he knew he had made her nervous but not why. “I was wearing a scarf before.”