“And you’ll have her back by curfew, 10 sharp, or you know I’ve gotta report it to the Guild. Might be fired as my apprentice.”
“And don’t go too far past the woods, some of Kalan’s men out there the other day. I know my daughter can protect herself but I ain’t always so sure about you.”
Magnus runs a tongue proudly over his missing tooth. The black eye he got two weeks ago is kind of greenish now.
“What’s with the “yes sir” now, Burnsides?” Turning, Steven hollers. “Jules, your prince is waiting for your downstairs!”
Julia descends (hand on the railing, a rosewood he sanded down and curved at the edges himself), in a pale red dress with trousers underneath it. She’s smiling, defiant, embarrassed, and adoring. Magnus knows her smiles. But you know someone forever, never not know them, and they can still look this unfamiliar?
“You got the jars,” Julia says, for lack of anything else to say. Steven groans, but he’s receded into the edge of the world for Magnus, mouthing “ten o’ clock”.
“I got the jars,” Magnus says. Two glass jars, scrubbed clean, ready to be filled to the brim with light. “One for each of us, um—“ there’s a basket of food propped against his arm, covered in a blanket, she hadn’t noticed.
“I bet I can catch more,” Julia says, with the absolute confidence of someone who rarely loses. “Magnus?”
For the first and last time in the whole of his life, someone tells Magnus Burnsides to hurry up.
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
titsay
areudirty
