It doesn’t matter that she lives and the monster has gone. It doesn’t matter that seconds later Lizl coughs and crumples to the stones. Now they know why he’s trained separately from other acolytes, alone with Monk Evrane. Now they know why the other children won’t play with him. The collective hitching of their breaths and recoiling of their necks. “Bloodwitch,” declares the third, a bully named Natan, and that’s when the boy sees it: the sudden understanding that flashes in their eyes. Kerta notes the boy’s terror now, and the other children start noticing too. If it doesn’t, Lizl’s brain will stop working. Anyone who will make the girl’s blood pump again. “What’s wrong with her?” Kerta closes in, not yet alarmed. This is a girl he was playing with only moments ago.
If he doesn’t, Lizl is going to die, just like his dog died. He’s too happy for the monster inside to be waking up.īut then one of the other acolytes-Kerta, who’d been the first hen caught-calls, “Lizl? Are you all right?” Which is why it takes him a moment to notice that Lizl is no longer moving. Even the muscles in his stomach hurt now, and his cheeks-oh, his cheeks! “Caught you!” Her fingers dig into the loose linen of his monastery tunic. Lizl’s hand slams onto the boy’s shoulder. The boy overheard his mentor discussing yesterday that they might move her up to the next level of training.
She’s older, longer-legged, and nimble in a way none of the other acolytes are. He can’t remember if he’s ever laughed before today. Bubbling up his throat like the spring behind the dormitories. She’s the fox in this round, and the boy is the only hen left. His cheeks ache from the grinning, but he can’t stop. Certainly, he has never been allowed in a game of fox and hen.Īnd certainly he has never smiled this much. Never has he been addressed by so many his age. For three peals of the chimes above the gatehouse, the boy has been playing with others.
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