“She wants to help you, Rolan! And you know, I think the Arcanist does too! I thought he was awful at first, another monster like your pa, but now? I think he’s good for you. Dangerous and scary, yes. And I don’t want you fighting any Cryptics, either. ButLuc and Evaine… they want to help you.” She tugged the bucket. “Why can’t you justletthem?”
“Because I’m FINE!” Rolan shouted, and yanked the bucket hard.
It flew out of their grasps and spilled across the cobblestones, again. Splattering food everywhere. Again.
Anaya sighed. “Why do we always end up fighting?”
“I don’t know.” Miserable, Rolan kicked a leek. “I don’t want to fight. Please, don’t tell Evaine. She’ll tell Luc, and I don’t want him to…”
He swallowed his words, but Anaya looked at him like she could hear them anyway.
I don’t want him to see where I come from. I don’t want him to know what Pa did to me.
When he thought of his father, his mind was a snarl of shame, and confusion at his shame. After all, hadn’t he spent his whole life wanting to impress his pa, to join his crew? He’d been proud to be the notorious Rabb Strider’s son.
When had that changed?
When had his pride turned to embarrassment?
In that moment, Rolan made his decision.
- CHAPTER 21 -THE PALACE
With lunch cleaned up and the rainclouds moving on, the Arcanist prepared to depart the apothecary shop. He swept his cloak around himself, stood in the doorway, and gave Evaine a small nod. The two weren’t exactly close friends, but at least the apothecary didn’t look like she wanted to grind down Luc’s bones with her mortar and pestle anymore.
After his silent farewell to Evaine, Luc turned his gaze on Rolan.
The question in his eyes was clear.
Was Rolan going, or staying?
Evaine and Anaya must have sensed some unspoken conversation between master and apprentice, because they watched curiously but said nothing.
Rolan thought of his father, lurking in some alley nearby. What job had he wanted Rolan to do? He wrapped his hand around his arm, where he could still feel the burn of his father’s grip.
“Well, what are we standing around all dramatic for?” Rolan asked crossly. He yanked his own cloak from its peg by the door. “There are Cryptics in the woods that need dealing with, and they’re only gonna get bigger the longer we sit around staring at each other.”
Luc blinked. If he was surprised by Rolan’s decision, that was all the sign he’d give.
“See ya,” Rolan said to Anaya.
“Bye then,” she replied.
And that was that. They’d never seen the point of drawn-out farewells.
“Right,” said Luc, as Rolan shouldered past him and out the door. “Uh. Good evening to you, apothecary.”
“And you, Arcanist,” Evaine replied. “Don’t forget what we discussed.”
Her eyes flickered to Rolan for just a heartbeat, but it was enough for a bell to go off in his brain.
As he trotted behind Luc down the street, he asked casually, “So what was it you two discussed?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” Luc grunted.
Rolan frowned. He was quite sure it did concern him. It was bad enough when adults discussed him in front of his face. It was even worse when they did it behind his back. They must have had theirdiscussionwhile he’d been outside, delivering the scraps to the chickens.
He rubbed his arm again, as if he could rub away the feeling of his pa’s grip. Nervously, he glanced around.
