Rachel Aaron: The Spirit Eater

Josef’s eyes flicked from thief to girl. “It’s no mistake,” he said. “That bounty is her last card. I can’t let her do this.”

“Her who?” Eli said.

“Queen Theresa.”

“I see,” Eli said, though he didn’t. “Well, if it’s not a mistake, then I’m stumped. What did you do to this queen to earn a number like that?”

The side of Josef’s mouth twitched. “I lived.”

Eli crossed his arms. “Could you try being a little less cryptic?”

“No.” Josef pulled his bag off his shoulder and tossed it to Nico. “I have to go away for a while. There’s food enough for the next day in there. Nico, I’m counting on you to keep Eli from doing anything stupid. I realize it’s a tall order, but do your best.”

Nico glared at him and tossed the bag back. “I’m going with you,” she said.

“And I’m with her,” Eli said, straightening up. “You can’t just walk out on us now.”

Josef raised an eyebrow. “And I suppose my opinion in this doesn’t matter?”

Eli crossed his arms over his chest. “Not in the least. Where are we going?”

For a moment, Josef almost smiled. “The port at Sanche. We can catch a ferry from there to Osera.”

“Osera?” Eli made a face. “You mean the island with the carnivorous yaks, endless rain, and zero-tolerance policy toward thieves? Why?”

“Because,” Josef said, setting off down the road, “I’ve been called home.”

Nico fell in behind him, her feet kicking up little clouds of yellow dust as she hurried to catch up. Eli stared at their backs a moment longer, and then, cursing under his breath, he shoved his new poster into his bag and ran down the road after them.

Thank you to Peggy, Steve, Judith, and Rob. This book would not exist without everything you do.