Elementals: Ice Wolves

his wrist on the seam at the edge of the pocket, and for an instant his hand was stuck. He cursed inwardly, easing it free, lifting onto the balls of his feet so he could step back the moment it was clear—but it was too late. The mercher turned his head almost in slow-motion, eyes widening, mouth opening to shout. “Thief !” he bellowed, one hand clamping down on Anders’s wrist with an iron grip. Anders only had time to drop the coin back into his pocket before he was yanked off balance, hauled forward so the man could get a better look at him. No, no! Why did he always mess things up? “This boy was picking my pocket,” the man announced, glaring down at Anders, his thick blond brows crowding together in disapproval. “I wasn’t!” Anders protested automatically. “I don’t have anything in my hand!” Because I just dropped it back into your pocket. But he knew that wasn’t going to be enough. When he lifted his head, he could already see a member of the guard jumping down from the dais to push through the crowd toward him, and the people around them

40