"You shouldn't have come here."
Vencian froze for a second. The words carried no fear, only certainty. He frowned slightly, caught between confusion and caution.
He studied the girl's back. Small frame, probably nine or ten. Her tone hadn't matched her age.
Before he could respond, she turned toward him.
Her expression was plain, her eyes dull with a sort of bored alertness. "Because Mr. Delsor won't leave you without a scolding," she said, as if correcting herself. "This is his field. He gets angry if anyone steps on it."
Vencian's lips twitched. So that's what she meant. Cryptic for no reason.
He moved beside her, stopping a few feet away. "You don't seem to care much," he said.
She shrugged. "He's old. He forgets sometimes. But when he remembers, he swings that stick like it's a sword."
Her mouth twitched slightly, as if she found it funny.
