Page 37 of A Thief to Die For

And yet I’m starting to wonder whether I need to do more than just protect her secret. Maybe this is a cause I should support.

The attacker backhands Mum, sending her face-first to the ground. Her screaming stops.

‘Mum?’ I yell, terrified. What’s happening? One second, we’re outside Kingsland’s electric fence, welcoming my father home from his supply route. The next, I’m watching my parents get attacked by this man. A one-handed stranger.

He pulls a knife. ‘Now, give me your ring.’

‘Go away, Ryland,’ Mum calls, as I race closer. She pushes to her feet, face red. Tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Get out of here. Run.’

With another scream, she throws herself at the man, scratching and clawing his face. My father grips his stomach. There’s blood everywhere. He falls.

‘Dad!’ I run to him. Except when I get there, it’s not him I find lying on the ground.

It’s Marian.

Her lifeless eyes stare up at me. Then her lips move as she speaks. ‘You’re talking in your sleep.’

I startle awake, sitting up. My hand sweeps behind me, grasping my knife.

The nightmare world disappears, along with my father’s face that I can no longer remember, and I struggle to make sense of what’s left. Of … the boy leisurely slurping a drink from my canteen. The sun’s up just enough to see Little John lying on his stomach, staring at me. My tent is unzipped and wide open. How did I sleep through him doing that? I scrub a hand through my hair, my heart still pumping as if I’ve been chased by a bear. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘You were talking. But you were asleep.’

I grunt. ‘I gathered that.’

Unbothered, he glances around. ‘I’ve never slept in one of those cocoons before.’ He ticks his head at my sleeping sack. ‘Can I try that?’

‘Not while I’m in it.’ I reach for a T-shirt and slip it on, wincing at the stiffness from sleeping on the ground. ‘How long have you been here? Wait. What time is it?’ I try to look out of the unzipped door.

‘Do I look like I own a windup clock?’

The kid doesn’t look like he owns anything. He’s wearing shorts that are too big and a shirt that’s practically see-through. He never has shoes.

‘I meant, has everyone left for the mine yet?’ I had planned to get up early and talk to more of the men who fit my suspect profile. My time here is running out.

‘Oh, it’s too early for that.’

I relax a little and rub my eyes. ‘Does your mum know you’re here?’

‘Nope,’ he says, popping the P.

I raise a disapproving brow.

‘What?’ He shrugs his little shoulders. ‘She’s still sick, but maybe she’ll feel better soon now that she’s got medi–’ He cuts off, his eyes wide.

I tilt my head. ‘Medi … cine?’

He looks like he might start crying for letting that slip out. But then he nods his head.

I don’t know where they get medicine around here, but why is that a secret? ‘And if I needed medicine, the same kind your mum needed, where would I go to get it?’

His bottom lip pushes out, and I almost feel bad for asking. He drops his tone to a whisper. ‘The Saint of Shadows.’

I huff a laugh. Wait – he’s not joking.

The pieces fall into place. Is Marian the Saint of Shadows? Was that what she was doing last night? Stealing medicine?

‘He helps us.’