Page 28 of Break Out the Girl

Taliesin shifts behind us, trying to see what we are doing. The dog has never cast a spell in his life.

“Ooh, shit. I think it’s working.”

Indeed it is. The unpleasant wetness of Aurora’s prison-issued sneakers dries and falls away. She looks up at me, eyes sparkling. “Thank you! So much, François. Gods, I’ve so much to learn.”

“I will be here to teach you, ma petit. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

As Aurora nods in appreciation, a wave of frustration and annoyance pours out of Taliesin. I feel it in my chest. I know a thread bonds me to Aurora, and unfortunately also Taliesin and London. But this is the first time I’ve been able to taste an emotion through it.

I also sense jealousy and curiosity.

The wolf wants to learn, but to do so he’ll have to ask for my help.

Très bon.

This petty little victory brings me great pleasure.

10: AURORA

Tally and François have finally simmered down into a prickly truce.

While François uses his magic again to remove some dirt from the edge of his sleeve, Taliesin turns and pores over the sea charts.

I look around to the corner where I’d left London sleeping, but it’s empty.

Shit. Where is my unreliable goat?

“Have you seen London?” I ask Taliesin.

“He was here a minute ago. Probably checking his apples and pears, or wobbly wobbly, or any of that crazy shit he talks about,” Tally shrugs in response.

“The creature possesses the attention span of a common housefly,” François snarks. “I wouldn't concern yourself, Aurora.”

“Fuck you both.” London has earned the protective tightness that bands my chest. Yes, he’s a little unhinged but his heart is pure gold. He cares about all of us. But I seem to be the only person who cares about him in return.

Before I can really go to town on the two unfeeling assholes, footsteps echo from the loading bay.

All of us dart into hiding places but when the sliding door squeaks open, it’s my faun that steps through. He’s grinning so hard I can’t help but find myself beaming in return.

And then I see it.

In his left hand, he holds a battered stainless-steel thermos. Balanced in his right arm is a grease-stained cardboard bakery box.

“Looky, looky!” He skips across the concrete floor toward us. “The fishermen's canteen down on pier four had an unlocked back door. Basically begged me to come in and do a little pilfering.”

He proudly places the box onto the table and pops the lid, revealing a dozen slightly squished, sugar-glazed donuts.

“And for my final reveal…” He rattles the thermos triumphantly before unscrewing the plastic cup on top and pouring out a thick, steaming stream of pitch-black liquid.

The aroma hit me instantly. “Yes!”

I reach out, taking the plastic cup from his hands. The heat seeps into my still chilled fingers, making me deliriously happy. Grinning, I turn to London. “No one saw you, right?”

“Pfff, as if! I am the best tea-leaf in all Havengard, I just haven’t had the opportunity to display my talent to you yet. And it’s only one of my many talents.” He winks, then shoves half a donut into his mouth.

I take a sip of coffee, and groan.

“Good?” London looks at me hopefully.