Tamora Pierce

Don’t die on me,” she whispered when the clock struck midnight and he still had not moved. “It’s only a little shoulder wound. Goddess, George-don’t die on me.”His eyes flickered open and he smiled. “I didn’t know you cared,” he whispered. “And why insult me? I won’t die for a wee nick like this; I’ve had worse in my day.”Alanna wiped her wet cheeks. “Of course I care, you unprincipled pickpocket!” she whispered. “Of course I care.


Don’t die on me,” she whispered when the clock struck midnight and he still had not moved. “It’s only a little shoulder wound. Goddess, George-don’t die on me.”His eyes flickered open and he smiled. “I didn’t know you cared,” he whispered. “And why insult me? I won’t die for a wee nick like this; I’ve had worse in my day.”Alanna wiped her wet cheeks. “Of course I care, you unprincipled pickpocket!” she whispered. “Of course I care.

– Tamora Pierce –

In the Hand of the Goddess

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