Free The Broken Lands by Kate Milford Page B

stuff and don’t take any bets.
No
.
Bets
.”
    He took off across the plaza, completely without a guess about what he could possibly do besides put himself squarely between the girl and the troublemakers. In fact, he was pretty certain that probably all that was going to come out of this was a black eye to match the bruise on his cheekbone. Sam could work some halfway decent miracles with a deck of cards, but he was still a fairly unassuming fifteen-year-old kid, and no pair of self-respecting roughneck rowdies were going to pause more than half a second before they pummeled him flat.
    Then, when he was still a few yards away, something utterly unexpected happened, almost too quickly for Sam to catch.
    The girl put one red-slippered foot down on the brim of her hat to keep it from escaping, a motion that looked almost balletic compared to her awkward walk, and that brought a fresh set of guffaws from the boys. By now Sam was close enough to see her face, which slid into a half-smile, shy and flirtatious.
    The leering boys took the little smile as an invitation to sidle closer. The girl dipped forward, one hand behind her back, and reached long fingers into the collar of her shirt. Eyes goggling, they leaned closer still.
    Then she threw the hand that had been inside her collar toward the boys, flinging a fine dust into the air between them, and swept the hand behind her back up after it. A blue flame appeared between her fingers. The flame met the dust and ignited, and a flurry of sizzling sparks popped in the air in front of the girl.
    She scooped up her hat, turned toward Sam, and shoved it unceremoniously in his face as he reached her side, covering his eyes just as the sparks erupted with a muted
boom
into a ball of green fire.
    The boys, who’d been leaning in way too close, probably trying to get a look down her shirt, flung their hands up over their eyes and howled in pain.
    The girl took hold of Sam’s arm and turned him away from the stinging vapor left by the explosion. “Thanks for trying,” she said with a thin smile as she tucked her braid back up into the hat.
    â€œSorry, I . . . I meant to . . . are you . . . are you all right?”
    â€œAm
I
all right?” For a moment her thin smile widened and she actually looked amused. “Yes, thank you. I am.” She glanced over her shoulder at the two older boys stumbling toward the nearest saloon to wash out their eyes. “Best I get going, though, before they can see again.”
    â€œCan I . . . do you need . . .” Oh, this was mortifying, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to cut his losses and shut up. “Can I walk you somewhere?”
    She stopped walking and folded her arms. “Why?”
    â€œIt’s only that . . .” Sam willed himself not to blush. “Just to make sure nobody else gives you any trouble? You see what just happened, and you were in probably the best-behaved part of West Brighton. I don’t know where you’re headed, but basically anywhere farther west it gets way, way worse.”
    â€œAnd you were so helpful with those last two,” she added, deadpan. “Seeing as how I’ve
never
been in a tough town before . . .” Then she hesitated and eyed Sam for a minute. “Thank you,” she said, finally. “It’s very good of you to offer, and I appre­ciate that you mean it. But I try very hard to take care of myself, so I’m going to decline.”
    Sam nodded. “I guess I can understand that.”
    She looked at him for just a moment longer. “My name’s Jin.”
    â€œSam.”
    â€œThank you, Sam.”
    He nodded again and took a step back. She turned toward the west side of the plaza and started off with the same awkward gait he had noticed before. “Jin. Hold up.”
    She stopped, folded her arms, and waited wordlessly for him to catch up.
    Sam ignored her impatient look. If