Thief's Magic

by Trudi Canavan

  CHAPTER 16

  A faint trickling noise came from the pipe beside his ear. From above he heard a man speak and it took a moment for Tyen to remember enough Wendlandish to translate.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checking that it works.”

  “There’s a law against using the privy while in dock.”

  “You going to arrest me?”

  “Well … hurry up then.”

  Tyen let out his breath as the sounds stopped and footfalls retreated from the water closet. Then they both returned in reverse as the second man took his turn. By the time the searchers had done their business and left, no other hard footsteps could be heard echoing around the ship. A long silence followed, then the earlier noises of goods being unloaded resumed and he allowed himself to relax a little.

  He could do no more than wait until someone came to release him. When nobody did, he guessed that they were planning to leave him there until the ship reloaded and left the dock. He hoped they weren’t intending to stay overnight.

  At one point Tyen thought he heard a familiar female voice beyond the hull. He realised that Sezee and Veroo would have left the ship to continue their journey home. He would never get a chance to thank them. Perhaps he could send a letter. He had no specific address, but if Sezee’s family was as well known as she described it would probably still get to her.

  The thought of never seeing Sezee again saddened him. He had never got the chance to fulfil their last condition for helping him: to tell them the truth about his reasons for fleeing Leratia. It would have been nice to know that someone in the world knew the whole story. Other than Kilraker. Or most of it, anyway. As Vella had advised, he would not have told them what he’d stolen. It all made him more determined to get a letter to his father somehow.

  He wished he knew exactly what Sezee had arranged with Captain Taga. Where was the man going next? Not back to Leratia, Tyen hoped. Had Taga accepted the hundred levees as the bribe, or demanded more? Without Sezee to confirm or deny the amount he could tell Tyen anything and there would be no way of knowing if he was lying. Tyen might evade the Academy another day, but he would not survive long without money.

  Overhearing the police speaking in Wendlandish had also reminded him that whatever money he did keep, if any, might have to be exchanged for local currency. Leratian levees were used in all the Empire, but he suspected it would be easier to hide from the authorities if he mingled more with humbler locals. But exchanging money meant records would be made that the Academy might be able to trace, especially if he was required to produce identification papers. Thanks to Sezee and Veroo, he had alternative identification papers (and they had never explained why, he recalled) but if the Academy worked out that he was posing as Aren Coble they’d be as useless as his own.

  As time stretched on, he grew bored. He abandoned an attempt to pick his satchel up off the floor when he found it meant making a lot of scraping noises. Remembering that he’d put Vella in his jacket pocket, he took her out. He cupped his hand over her and drew enough magic to create a soft glow, then lost himself in her stories of other worlds and powerful sorcerers, and was only jolted back to reality when the ship began to move again.

  They were leaving. He went to put Vella back in his jacket pocket, then thought better of it and slipped her inside his shirt. Whatever happened next, at least she would be able to see and hear it.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Footsteps once again echoed in the passage above. He heard the water closet door open, then the scrape of the latrine as it was lifted. When it came free he had a view of the water closet ceiling. Then a familiar face peered down at him.

  “Oh, it’s not at all as bad as it sounded,” Sezee declared.

  He smiled in surprise and relief. “You stayed on board!”

  She shrugged. “Yes and no. We had a quick look around town like the tourists we’re supposed to be would, then we came back.”

  “Thank you. I hope I have not unduly spoiled your travel plans.”

  “Not at all. Besides, you haven’t yet told us why you’re running from the Academy. Are you coming out, or have you got too comfortable down there?”

  With some effort, he managed to manipulate the satchel with the toe of one boot so that it lay against the wall, then squatted far enough to grab it. Lifting it up, he handed it to her, then climbed out. The crewman stood behind her, holding the latrine. As soon as they’d squeezed past him he slotted the seat back into place.

  “Stay down here,” he advised. “The cap’n wants a chat, once we’re ’way from shore.”

  Then he hurried back down the passage, passing Veroo standing outside her room, and disappeared through the door to the deck.

  “Well, then.” Sezee grabbed Tyen’s arm. “It’s time you explained why the Academy is after you.”

  Tyen did not resist, letting her haul him along to the doorway of their room. Veroo did not smile as he approached. Her eyes narrowed at him. Sezee, still apparently as cheerful as before she’d changed her plans for him, pointed at one of the beds.

  “Sit,” she ordered, like a bossy child. Or princess.

  He obeyed.

  “Talk.”

  He chuckled. “How much detail do you want?”

  “Not so much that we’re left none the wiser when Captain Taga gets here.”

  “Very well. I am – I was – a student of the Academy. I was learning history and sorcery. On a research expedition recently I found something. It was … hard to determine its value. We were meant to hand over all our finds, but it was a rule that was often overlooked and I … I knew the Academy would not see the potential in it that I did, but I thought I could find a way to persuade them. But they discovered and took possession of it before I could. It was then stolen – but not by me. By Professor Kilraker, a man I once admired and trusted. He arranged it so that I would be blamed.”

  Sezee watched him intently as he spoke, and continued to after he fell silent. Then she shook her head.

  “But surely, if you don’t have this thing, nobody can accuse you of stealing it.”

  “They would suspect I had hidden it. Or sold it.”

  “Suspicions are not proof. Not in Leratian law. And if you are so sure this professor stole it then why not tell them?” Her eyebrows rose. “Ah! But the thief no longer has the object either, correct?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you still have it?”

  “You only asked me to tell you why the Academy is chasing me.”

  “Our condition for helping you was that you told us the truth.”

  “But not the whole truth,” he replied.

  “That’s—”

  “Sezee,” Veroo interrupted. “Leave it.”

  The young woman turned to the older, who shook her head. Frowning, Sezee narrowed her eyes at him. Her gaze dropped to his satchel, still in her hands, then widened.

  “Is it that mechanical insect guarding your money?”

  He gave her a level look. “Couldn’t resist taking a peek, could you?”

  Veroo smiled as a blush reddened Sezee’s cheeks. “I might have,” Sezee replied. “We weren’t completely unaware that we might be helping a man who might turn on us.”

  “And what did the contents tell you?”

  Her bottom lip pinched upward. “Nothing we hadn’t guessed already. You have money. You’re from the Academy.”

  “How did my bag contents tell you I was from the Academy?”

  “The shaving implements have the ‘A’ on them.”

  “Oh.” He smiled and shook his head. He’d never noticed. He reached out for the satchel and she reluctantly gave it back to him.

  “So.” She smiled. “Am I right?”

  He looked up. “Is it Beetle? No.”

  At the sound of its name, Beetle stirred. Tyen thought of her assumption that it was there to guard his money. It wasn’t a bad idea. If he found the time he would make a few changes so it could function that way. An alarm would b
e easiest. The instructions would be similar to the alarm he’d trained it to make when Miko had approached his room. Though perhaps he could add pins or blades to its front legs so it could sting anyone who reached inside.

  “I told the captain you would pay him half now and half later,” Veroo said.

  He looked up and nodded. “Thank you. Thank you both for helping me.” He paused. “What exactly did you arrange? Where are we going?”

  “South,” Veroo answered. “Captain Taga trades up and down the coast. He seems an honest enough man, so far as any independent trading captain can be.”

  “What of your plans to return home?” Tyen asked.

  “Well,” Sezee said, in that way people did when they were about to try winning you over to an idea they’d had. “You’re going to the Far South and since—”

  Tyen’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait. What makes you think I’m going to the Far South?”

  Sezee’s smile widened. “You are, though. Right?”

  “I might be.”

  “It is one of the few parts of the world not under the influence of the Leratian Empire, after all.”

  Tyen shook his head. “Then I shouldn’t go there, if it’s so obvious.”

  “Anywhere else you go, you’ll be turned over to the Academy as soon as anyone works out who you are.”

  “If they work out who I am.”

  “The further you go from Leratia, the more obvious it’s going to be that you’re different from the people around you. In the Far South that won’t matter. They have no agreement with the Empire.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’ll stop the Academy hunting me down and taking me home.”

  “They might. And the Academy have to find you first. It seems to me your chances are better there than anywhere else. And didn’t you say the only way to reach the Far South was by aircart?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can operate an aircart.”

  “Can I?”

  “Don’t all Academy students learn to drive one?”

  “No.”

  She paused and frowned. “Can you?”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  “And you can build one?”

  He nodded.

  She grinned. “So, will you take us with you?”

  He looked from her to Veroo. The older woman smiled, but her gaze was sharp and unwavering. Of course, he thought. She wants to seek out the school of sorcery Gowel mentioned. The thought of this woman learning all that the Academy had denied her gave him an odd feeling of satisfaction.

  “I would be glad to,” he told them.

  Sezee clasped her hands together and said a strange word. She turned to Veroo, who grudgingly repeated the word. Tyen guessed it was some expression of satisfaction or victory in their native language. Then Veroo’s head snapped to the side.

  “The captain’s coming,” she warned.

  Sure enough, the door to the deck opened and Tyen heard footsteps approaching. He got to his feet as Taga stepped into view.

  “So,” the man said. “It’s Tyen Ironsmelter now.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Tyen replied.

  “Come into my room.” He beckoned and led the way back a few paces, to a door on the opposite side of the passage. Opening it, he ushered Tyen through. “The women have told you of our arrangements?”

  “Yes.”

  He followed Tyen into a small room with a table and two chairs to one side and a bed on the other. The captain closed the door, leaving Sezee and Veroo outside.

  “Did you kill anyone?”

  Tyen looked at the captain, at first surprised and then a little offended. But it was a reasonable question to ask, he supposed – though the captain wouldn’t know if Tyen’s answer was the truth.

  “No.”

  “Steal anything?”

  Tyen sighed. “That’s … complicated. What they say I stole … I was set up as the thief. But I did steal an aircart to escape and there happened to be a large sum of money on board.”

  The captain regarded Tyen in silence for a while, then nodded. “Fifty levee.”

  Tyen blinked, surprised that there were no more questions. He opened his satchel and drew out a few bundles of money, counting out half of the bribe the women had arranged.

  “Thank you,” he said, handing it over.

  The captain took the money. “I want no trouble with the Academy,” he warned. “You’re to stay aboard and out of sight when we’re in port.”

  “Of course.”

  “We only go as far south as Carmel.”

  Tyen nodded.

  A knock on the door diverted the man’s attention. “Come in.”

  One of the crew stepped inside. “Aircart. Looks like it’s tailing us,” he said.

  The captain scowled and turned back to Tyen. “Stay here.” He led the way out of the room, walking past the women and out onto the deck.

  Glancing around, Tyen saw a small window on the opposite side to the door. He approached cautiously, but could see nothing but clouds and birds and a small part of the deck. The ship altered direction slightly and the rocking increased, forcing Tyen to brace himself. After several minutes he gave up and moved to one of the chairs.

  Perhaps hiding and waiting for someone to tell him what was going on was the way things were going to be from now on. It was a small annoyance to endure, if it would keep him out of the Academy’s hands. All he could do was sit quietly and hope that he was safe.

  PART FOUR

  RIELLE

  CHAPTER 11

  Rielle reluctantly peeled Izare’s paint-stained hands from around her waist and slipped out of his embrace. “Enough of that. Get back to work.”

  His lower lip protruded. “But—”

  “You told me to do this,” she reminded him, backing towards the chairs. “You said I was too much of a distraction and I should shoo you away. I don’t want to be the reason you’re late delivering the spiritual. Later than you already are, that is.”

  He smiled and followed her. “But I finished it last night.”

  She glanced at the easel. The back of the board he was painting faced the stairs, so she had not yet seen the progress he’d made. Keeping out of reach, she approached the front of the painting.

  It was a narrative based on the story of Sa-Azurl, the Doubting Priest, who chose to believe the Angels did not exist rather than that they had not saved his village from flood, but eventually came to see his mistake and was welcomed by the Angels when he died. Rielle had suggested it, as the man who had ordered it was a melancholy old widower of one of the city’s oldest families, who was very self-critical. Her guess that he might appreciate a story of forgiveness had proved right.

  As with all Izare’s spirituals, the scenery and format were traditional, but the figures were so extraordinarily real she almost expected to see them blink.

  Izare took her distraction as an opportunity to slip his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “What do you think?”

  “It is beautiful, as always.”

  “As always,” he repeated. Then he sighed. “And the same every time. I would like to change so much more. Why must they always be a story? Why are they always set outside?”

  “How would you do your own spiritual?”

  He hummed and the vibration of his voice penetrated her shoulder bones. “Like a portrait. One man – or woman – but not looking at the viewer as if knowing they are watched. Instead absorbed in their own mind. Praying, perhaps. Perhaps to an Angel. Perhaps unaware of being observed by an Angel, who is barely visible in the shadows.”

  Rielle shivered. “You should try it.”

  He pulled away. “And risk that the priests would find some outrage in it?” He shrugged. “If I’m going to do that, I may as well paint naked women. At least I’d have fun and earn money.” He glanced at the window. “And in matters of income, I had best start doing the rounds of temples to see if I can attract some new commissions.”

&nbs
p; Something tightened within Rielle’s stomach. It was not quite a knot of anxiety, but it was close. Izare turned her around to face him.

  “Don’t worry. I told you, customers change their mind all the time. I have always found new commissions when I looked for them. It’s just been a while since I sought them. That’s all.”

  She smiled. “Perhaps I should seek my own.”

  “Not yet.” He moved away to a box he kept full of small, square samples of spiritual scenes. “I know you’d like to sell your work, but people are strange when it comes to women artists. They may feel it is not proper to hire you. You might be better off helping me with the spirituals without them knowing, but you’ll need more skill with the oily paint first.”

  Suppressing a sigh, she nodded and moved to the table. “Then I had better continue practising.”

  He grimaced. “Yes … but not today? I am a little low on paint.”

  Turning back, she headed for the chairs instead. She settled by the window and watched Izare gather his things. Along with the box of samples, he pulled together some cheap paper and chalk. He tied his money bag to his belt then walked over to kiss her.

  “You will be fine on your own?” He asked the same question every time he left the house.

  “Of course,” she told him, then watched him head for the stairs. It was a lie, and he knew it. If the priests or her family came to drag her home she would not be able to stop them. But neither would he have been able to.

  I’m almost offended that they haven’t tried, she mused. I guess Mother and Father think I’m spoiled goods now. Nobody in the families will marry me so I have no worth to them.

  She had stayed in the travellers’ house for two quarterdays. Izare had hidden in Greya and Merem’s rooms. The priests had found him there but though they questioned him at length they had not attempted to force her whereabouts out of him. When it was clear he wouldn’t offer up the information they had ignored him.