I open my mouth but snap it shut when a girl brings over two bowls of food. She eyes me, and I shrink into myself. Knowing my deep red leathers are out of place here. Sure, they look black from a distance, but up close, you can tell they are a deep dark red, and the way the girl’s eyebrows climb her forehead, this color isn’t seen much around here.
“Travlin?” The girl asks. Her hands were on her slim hips.
I gaze at Bran with wide eyes.
“Aye, we are,” Bran says, not looking at the girl but digging into his food.
She makes a sound and walks away.
“Bran. I’m going to need a different set of clothes.” I mutter, picking up my spoon.
“Aye. That’s why Keen left some coins.”
I dip my spoon in the white wheat and am surprised by the sweetness of them. Our bowels are empty in minutes, and I lean back with a satisfied sigh. That beats those brick bars any day.
The clinking of coins has me looking at Bran. He has a small leather pouch and drops five brown coins in the center of the table.
“Coppers.”
I look back at the coins. They are about the size of a nickel, with a triangle stamped in the middle with a narrow line through it close to the triangle’s tip.
“Ten coppers equals one silver.” I look at Bran and notice him holding a silver coin between his fingers. “Ten silvers equal one gold.” A gold coin appears in his palm. “Five gold equals one black.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, watching him put the coins back in the pouch and in his vest.
“It’s alright, you know.”
“Huh?” My head tilts to the side.
“If you were raised in the camps.”
“Sure,” I mumbled, standing up.
What in the hell are the camps? More questions for another day. But camps tickle in the back of my mind.
I shake my head and follow Bran out into the dusty street.
There are people everywhere going about their day. I watch in wonder as I pass by a little girl standing by a puddle of mud. I watch as her tiny hand hovers over the puddle and a small ball of mud forms below her hand. She smiles and tosses her hand to the side. The mud ball flies, hitting the back of a boy's head.
He screeches and turns around, searching for the culprit. The little girl runs away, giggling the entire time.
I chuckle, dodging people.
“She better be careful. If the guards saw that she’d be shipped off to the camps.”
There’s that word again. Camps. Should I ask Bran what it means or wait to see if I gain any more information from listening?
“There you are.” I look around and smile when I see Keen sauntering towards us. “Late start?” He smiles, and I blush. The tug grabs me out of nowhere, and I stumble towards him, almost falling to my knees. A hand on my arm saves me.
“Thanks, Bran,” I mumble, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants.
“I let her sleep in. She needed it.” Bran says.
Keen smiles, and Rush rolls his eyes. “We were just about to get some clothes. You’re here now. You can take her.” Bran says, ambling off and dragging Rush with him. “We’ll meet you back at the Wisp!”
My heart sputters in my chest, and Keen shakes his head. His hair is falling across his forehead.
“Come on. It’s just around the corner.”
I trudge after Keen, smiling that he still hasn’t gotten any shoes on. I look around and notice a few others without shoes as well. It must be a fashion statement in Rosewell or a Terra thing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’ll pay you back. Promise.” I say, coming out of the leather shop.
“It’s fine, Basil,” Keen says yet again as we make our way back to the Wisp for lunch.
“Are you sure?” You didn’t have to buy so much.”
Keen sighs and picks up his pace.
He bought me four different outfits, all dark green leather in different styles. I chew on my cheek. How am I going to pay him back? It makes me uneasy. Will he want something from me? I scoff. Of course, he does. This bond. He more than likely wants to complete it. How stupid could I have been?
“I know what you're thinking.” Keen states, hands in his back pockets.
“And you’re wrong. I wouldn’t mind if you hung around for a while, though.” He looks over his shoulder and winks at me.
My face heats. What the hell?
Keen holds the door open to the Wisp, and I squeeze by him and the door frame. My left shoulder brushes up against his chest, and I bite my lip, stepping further into the room. I was expecting pain from more Runes, but what I got instead was a passionate tingle I’d rather not think about.
“This way.” I shiver and jerk as Keens whispered words in my ear. I’m shell shocked as I gaze after him. He’s flirting with me. Why? Why would he do this? He said he didn’t want the bond. Putting distance between us is the best thing that we could likely do. But no! What does he do? He flirts.
I slowly sit down in my chair and tap my fingers along the tabletop, joining Bran and Rush. I will not look at Keen. I will not look at Keen.
I peeked. Who am I kidding? I totally stared and got a smirk for my trouble. I growl at myself and wish Prince was here. Something to take my attention away from Keen.
“Basil?”
“Yes?” I look up and narrow my eyes at Rush. He’s a troublemaker if I ever saw one.
“What say you?”
“What?” I question. Rush has lost all of his marbles.
“I asked.” My gaze snaps to Keen’s, “If you would like to come with us. I have a job I need to do and could use the help.”
“A job?”
A young boy sets a pie in front of me and he places one in front of the other three.
When the boy finally moves away, Keen stares at me again. “Yes, a job.”
“What could I possibly do?” I mumble, poking the pie with my fork. It smells strange.
“I’m sure. I can find a use for you.”
Rush chuckles, and I clutch the fork with my hand.
“Sure,” I mumble, breaking the pie open. It is steaming, and the sauce pools out of the hole I made.
I freeze when I realize what I just said. Sure. Sure, I will do a job for the Crime Lord. Sure, I will spend more time with the flirty Keen. What in the hell am I thinking, saying sure?
“Excellent. We can leave after lunch.” Keen chuckles, digging into his pie with gusto.
“It’s good. Eat. You’ll need the energy.” Keen mumbles around a mouth full of food.
I raise an eyebrow at his full mouth and stare at the small steaming pie.
“It’s a meat pie,” Bran says, cutting into his.
“The question is what type of meat.” Rush chuckles, taking a bite.
I grimace and stare at the steaming pie. Surprise meat pie. Great! With a sign, I dig into it. Please don’t be a cat or a dog.
The pie’s not half bad. It’s a little spicy for me, but then again, anything is better than the ration bricks.
“Rat, it tastes good, right?”
My eyes just about pop out of my head at Rush’s comment. Sweat beads on my face as I study the half-eaten pie on my wooden plate. He can’t be serious, can he?
“It’s moose. Calm yourself.” Keen chuckles, sitting back in his chair. He folds his arms behind his head, drawing my eyes to the muscles in his arms.