A Book of Spirits and Thieves (Spirits and Thieves #1)(44)

“No,” she replied. “I’m really not.”

He forced himself to sit up, pressing his back against the hard wall. He regarded the spirit girl in silence for a long time—so long that she began to twist the end of her golden braid around her index finger.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“You’re staring. Staring makes me nervous. I don’t like being the center of attention. I even dropped out of Drama Club last month because of stage fright, which is strange because I’m normally very self-confident.”

He blinked. “You say a lot of words that don’t make any sense to me.”

“Sorry, your tourism bureau didn’t supply me with a dictionary upon arrival.”

“What’s a dictionary?”

“It’s a book that . . . oh, it’s not important right now.” She stood up and went to the door to peer out of the tiny window that looked out at the hallway. Moans and coughs and the occasional shriek could be heard from other cells. “We have to get out of here.”

“We?” he repeated. “I don’t know why you’re even still here. You could walk through that wall and leave this place far behind you.”

“That wouldn’t solve anything, would it? I need you out of here, too. You’re the only one who can help me.”

A fresh burst of frustration blossomed in his chest. “Why are you so sure I can help you?”

“Because you’re the only one who can see me and talk to me! And you can work spirit magic.”

He held his head in his hands and looked up at her. “Are you sure you want to call it that?”

“I do. Yes, let’s call it spirit magic. There has to be a reason why I first appeared in the very place you were. It’s all connected. We’re connected, Maddox. Don’t ask me how I know it. I just do. You can help me get back home.”

“You’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

Becca didn’t reply but instead moved closer to him—so close that only a few inches separated them—and studied his face. Now he was the nervous one. He tried not to look away. Tried to hold her blue-eyed gaze. In the dim light of the cell, her eyes reminded him of the clear night sky. And her pink lips were so very . . .

“You don’t believe in yourself,” she said, shattering his concentration. “But you should. I saw what you did at the festival. I saw what you did to Livius here in this cell.”

“My curse, you mean.” It was how he’d come to think of his magic over the years.

“It’s not a curse. It’s a gift. Are there others in this place who can do what you can?”

He shook his head. He’d never heard of anyone in Mytica who possessed the same kind of magic he did. “There are witches, said to have the blood of the immortals in their veins. They can work with elemental magic in small amounts. Blood can strengthen their power when they’ve gotten weak. I’ve never met a real witch, so all my knowledge springs from the rumors I’ve heard.”

“Witches with the blood of the immortals? Seriously?” she said, then raised a hand when Maddox opened his mouth to explain further about the golden beings said to have walked side by side with mortals before he was born. “No, let’s put a pin in that for now and focus on you. Okay? I want to know everything there is to know about you.”

Her current proximity to him made him feel half excited and half uncomfortable. If she were flesh and blood, he could easily reach out and touch her. The texture of her strange woolen tunic mesmerized him. It looked so soft.

He gulped. “There isn’t much to tell. Livius always said I was duller than a dirtworm.”

“Well, Livius was wrong. You’re anything but dull to me. You’re . . . fascinating.” She actually smiled, a beautiful smile that sent a pleasant shiver running through him.

“I’ve never been fascinating to anyone,” he admitted.

“Wow, we really need to work on your self-confidence, don’t we? We have a good section of self-help books at the shop back home. I wish I had a couple to quote from right now.”

Maddox frowned. “You’re wasting your time, Becca Hatcher. When the goddess learns that my magic is not controllable and that I’m unable to summon the spirit of someone she’s only guessing is dead, she’ll have me put to death. I have a day to live, if that.”

Her smile fell away. “If I could slap you right now, I would. Really hard.”

This reaction coaxed a nervous laugh from him. “Apologies if it sounds grim, but it’s the truth. I’m going to die, and there’s no one here to help me. Without Livius, I’m all alone.”

“You’re not alone. You have me, and I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. Angrily. “When the going gets tough, I believe in one thing, Maddox. My gut. It tells me which book to read next, even if it has lousy reviews; which movie to see, even if no one else wants to see it; which friends to hang out with, whether they’re popular or loners or smart or dumb as bricks. And my gut tells me that you’re not going to die. You’re important to this world. And you’re important to me. Got it? You and me, we’re friends now. And friends help each other out in bad, snake-monster, scary-goddess times.”

Friends. He mouthed the word. Of course he knew what it meant. However, he’d never really had a true friend before. Not one he could depend on, or trust with his secrets. With his life.