Page 9

9

NEO

T he nearby prison was no more than a hole in the ground for the more notorious prisoners and stocks for more minor incidents. Disliking the idea of leaving Zula in a hole, Neo set up operations at Lord Dodger’s horse breeding and bean farm, in one of the smaller barns for the newly caught horses who were too wild to keep in the barn with the others.

He’d had to leave her alone for a couple of days while he went to deliver the stolen egg to the trolls and beg forgiveness. His younger sister, Diana, accompanied him, because she had excellent skills of persuasion. It might have been better if Hans had been able to come instead and give the trolls more assurances, but Neo did his best with what he had.

It was only after he and Diana parted ways that he made it back to the barn, where Zula was imprisoned in one of the stalls. She lay on her back on a bed of hay, which had to be itchy. Her swollen foot was propped up, her hat over her head.

“I’ve come to bandage your ankle,” Neo announced as the guards closed the iron grate behind him.

Zula briefly lifted the hat off her face, then replaced it. Her stillness bothered Neo. He hated how guilty he felt when he was in the right. Although there were kinder ways he might have gone about his duty, bringing in a thief was never easy. Especially one he was fond of.

Gingerly, he approached, sat down on the itchy hay—how did she handle it?—and lifted her swollen foot into his lap. Other than a hiss of pain, she remained silent.

“This will hurt,” Neo explained as he eased off her boot. “Actually, soaking your ankle in cold water would be best. I’m not a physician, but from the looks of it, it’s badly sprained. Maybe even broken. When we get to the palace, I can have a physician examine it.”

The hat came off Zula’s face and she propped herself up on an elbow. “The palace?”

Her voice was rough from lack of water. Neo had noticed the full water skins and deduced that in her stubbornness, Zula had likely decided not to eat or drink. It was stupid and wouldn’t do anything other than punish herself.

“Yes, we’re going to the palace. The royal guards will arrive to escort us in a couple of days. It would be wise to eat and drink, prepare yourself.”

“Why?” Zula demanded.

He had her full attention now. Instead of answering, Neo pulled off her sock, tossed it aside, and held up the jar of salve. “My sister gave me a willow bark potion. It will help reduce the swelling and the pain.”

“I know what willow bark is,” Zula said. “I grew up in the jungle.”

Ah, that was a new piece of information he didn’t know about her. Pausing his work, Neo leaned over and handed her a water skin. Their fingers grazed as she took it, a spark of energy igniting between them. Neo felt his pulse quicken and wondered if she felt it too.

Zula took a sip of water, her tone softening. “Why are we going to the palace?”

Neo frowned. “I . . . I’m not sure.”

“But you’re the sheriff. Surely you’d know why you’re summoned to the palace.”

Neo shrugged. “Orders are expected to be obeyed, regardless of explanation.”

Zula shook her head. “Don’t you tire of following orders?”

Neo dipped his fingers into the salve and studied her. Despite how tired she looked, and the pain that caused a tightening across her face, she was still beautiful with her dark skin, the halo of hair around her shoulders, and that fire in her dark amber eyes. Gently, he rubbed the salve around her swollen ankle, watching as she closed her eyes, tilted back her head, and pressed her lips together. Her fingers held onto the straw, tight, and he knew his work pained her, although she was too proud to admit it and would not cry out. He worked slowly, thoroughly, letting the silence stretch between them as he weighed his words. Finally, he picked up the bandage and started wrapping her ankle.

“You and I have different perspectives on orders and what they mean. I’m the sheriff, which means I uphold the laws of the kingdom. I protect it, and orders are only a way to ensure that not only myself, but all people retain their freedom. Take stealing, for example. If everyone were allowed to steal from everyone, think about the society that would lead to. One of mistrust, of frequent battles—nothing would get done because everyone would watch their back, waiting for a friend, a neighbor, a family member to stab them in the back and take what was earned, found, or treasured. For example, stealing from the trolls caused mistrust, anger, and they live on the borders of the kingdom. Should they decide to take up weapons and retaliate, the citizens of the peaceful village will be the ones to suffer first. Whether through fear, famine, or death, families will be torn apart, people displaced from their homes and their livelihoods. I know what it was like to lose my father, so if I can prevent others from experiencing that anguish, I will do so. Besides, oftentimes the queen knows much more than I do, so no, I don’t tire of following orders.”

He finished wrapping Zula’s foot and glanced over at her, surprised to see her eyes were wet, but whether from pain or because of his words, he couldn’t tell. Wincing, she pulled her foot away. Tucking her arm behind her head, she studied him. “Well then, sheriff who doesn’t mind following orders, tell me this: why don’t you fall asleep when I play my ukulele? Are you immune to magic?”

For just a moment, Neo’s fingers went to the parrot charm tucked underneath his shirt. He wondered if it had protected him in any way. “That’s my secret,” he grinned. “Zula, I’ve been following you for a long time, learning your habits, your mannerisms. Do you know we once had a mug of ale together? It was a year ago or so, in the village of Cloude. It has the kingdom’s most beautiful beaches, and you played one evening at the tavern by the water. The villagers could hear your song for miles, and they danced out there under the moonlight. Later, after another band started to play, I found you by the bar and offered to buy you an ale. You agreed and we talked for a long time. That’s the night I realized you had a soul, that there’s much more to you than stealing relics, or lulling people to sleep with your music to make them easy pickings for robbery. I followed you to your next heist, and that’s when I learned your magical ukulele doesn’t work on me.”

She looked away, her jaw working, and he hoped it was enough. Even though he knew why the ukulele’s magic didn’t work on him, he was loath to share it, and sad to know he hadn’t made an impression on her at all. He’d been one of the many, lost in the sea of sameness when it came to her adventures.

“I thought you looked familiar,” Zula said at last. “I remember that night. I’d had many drinks, but I do recall talking to a man with gilded words, and eyes that shone like emeralds.”

Neo’s palms went sweaty. “Then you do remember me.”

Zula still wouldn’t look at him. “Makes sense now. You kept following me, tracking me. I’d seen you from time to time, just couldn’t place you. I saw you in the village too, before I headed out to . . . visit the trolls. I thought I saw you by the river when I crossed the bridge.” Eyes flashing, she faced him. “Did you destroy my boat? ”

Neo shook his head. “No, I didn’t see a boat. Was that your escape route?”

Zula’s brows knit together. “Someone smashed it. One of your men, perhaps?”

“Perhaps I’ll speak with them, although it is wasteful to destroy a perfectly good fishing boat. Tell me, Zula, I’ve noticed your habits. Why do you only steal ancient relics?”

Biting her lip, Zula turned her face away. “You’ve already caught me. Must I bare my soul too?”

Neo couldn’t help the longing in his tone. “As I said earlier, I have a great interest in getting to know you.”

“Why?” Zula’s voice turned hard, as though she were physically trying to push him away.

“You intrigue me. Most thieves I’ve caught are tricky, but they aren’t exactly intellectual. They just want the money, and they’ll make a deal or give up anyone to earn more coin or save their own neck. There’s no honor. But with you, I get the sense that you’re after something bigger. Each heist of yours is more dangerous than the last, and you like being the center of attention, yet the moment you take off your hat you’re in disguise, hiding in plain sight. Then there’s the matter of your reputation. You almost have a need to be known, to have your name, your praise on everyone’s lips, yet tease us all by appearing and disappearing only when it suits your purposes. Except I can’t figure out what your purpose is, and your soul shines brightly when you play. You have some kind of magic, yet there’s much more to you than meets the eye. I think thieving isn’t what you are meant to do, it’s simply the only job you’ve had, and you keep stealing bigger treasures, hoping to get caught, because you don’t know what you want, but you’ve found that treasure and fame are hollow.”

Zula sat straight up, and there was such fury on her face, Neo thought she’d never looked more beautiful. He wanted to reach across the void between them and thaw her icy exterior with heated kisses, to feel her melt in his arms, under the onslaught of his touch. All wishful thinking, for Zula pointed a finger at the iron bars.

“Please, get out and leave me in peace!”