But sometimes it’s hard to laugh with the dagger’s point stabbing through my feet.
Tanis’s anger, Jael reflected, was like a summer rain in the Heartwood—quick to blow up, but equally quick to sail away on the wind. Almost as soon as they’d awakened, Tanis had apologized sheepishly for his anger the night before.
“I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” he said humbly, squeezing Jael’s hands. “It’s just harder than I thought it would be, being around you all the time and remembering the two times we’ve really been together. I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t have used the Bluebright at all, but I can’t be sorry we did.”
“I’m not sorry we did, either,” Jael admitted. “I’m just sorry it bothers you.” She hesitated. “You know, there’s plenty of brothels in Zaravelle, and we have enough money.”
Tanis’s face turned crimson, and he looked away.
“I couldn’t do that,” he said quickly. “Not now that we’ve— well, it just wouldn’t feel right. I can’t explain it.”
“Oh.” Jael sighed, but in a strange way she was almost glad. Immediately guilt drowned the happiness—what right did she have to become possessive of Tanis when she couldn’t promise him anything but continued frustration?
“Anyway, let’s not talk about it now,” Tanis said hurriedly. “We’ll go to the market and buy the rest of our supplies, and then there’s nothing to do but enjoy the city until sunset.”
Jael was relieved to abandon the uncomfortable subject, and she eagerly walked with Tanis to the market. It was wonderful to have all the money they needed again. Tanis had set aside money for horses, for passage to Tilwich, and a good purse against future needs, but that still left plenty to spend for supplies, with enough left for luxuries they hadn’t enjoyed in a long time— sweets for Jael, wine for Tanis, another set of clothing for each. Near midday, Tanis suggested that they separate for a short time, and Jael eagerly agreed. She’d kept back enough money for a handsome set of daggers she’d seen the day before, and hoped to surprise Tanis with them to replace the ones he’d lost to Letha and her companions. Fortunately the daggers hadn’t been sold, and they were of as fine quality as they’d looked before.
When they met at midday for dinner, Tanis had apparently had the same idea as Jael, for he had two gifts for her—a pair of wonderfully soft leather gloves that almost perfectly matched the black boots he’d stolen for her in Allanmere, and a set of silver combs set with red stones for her hair.
“The gloves I commissioned my first day in the market,” Tanis admitted. “I’m glad they fit so well. There was a girl at the Guild whose hands looked about the size of yours, so I had the gloves fitted from her. But you’d better not wear the combs in the city. I know I said I wouldn’t steal anything more, but when I saw them at the jeweler’s stall, I just thought they’d look pretty against your hair.”
“I bought you something, too,” Jael said, handing him the daggers and matching sheaths. “I wish I’d had enough for a sword.”
Tanis grinned delightedly as he examined the daggers, tossing them experimentally and testing the edges.
“They’re wonderful,” he said warmly, setting the daggers aside and hugging Jael in thanks. “And just the size and weight I use, too. And I’m glad you didn’t get the sword, because I bought one the first day, and it’s nearly finished.”
“But how did you have enough money to—” Jael gasped. “Tanis, you didn’t sell your ring, your temple ring?”
Tanis grinned sheepishly and shrugged.
“The ring won’t keep us safe if we meet more highwaymen,” he said. “And it’s a fine sword. This southern steel is wonderful stuff. But enough of that. Let’s see if we can find something other than fish for dinner, shall we?”
They bought pork pies and took them to a quiet corner at the docks of Zaravelle, where, from a safe distance, they could watch the latest fishing boat being unloaded while they ate. Like in Allanmere, the area around Zaravelle’s docks was no place to wander at night, but during the day it was a wonderful place to sit and watch the ships arrive or depart, or simply stare out at the amazing endlessness of the sea. The coast was rocky hereabouts, none of the sand that Shadow had described, but Jael and Tanis wandered up the coast a bit and managed to scramble down to the water, letting the spray dampen their hair and faces and wonderingat the bitter-salt taste of the water. Jael excitedly pointed outcrinkle-shells anchored to the rocks of a nearby jetty, far too deep in the water to harvest; then nothing would do but that they hurry back to the city and buy a bucket of the steamed seafood and eat it on the docks, speculating about the strange creatures living in the salty depths.
Jael tried to ignore the inexorable progress of the sun across the sky, unwilling for the marvelous day to end. As sunset approached, however, Tanis reluctantly suggested that they wash the salt and juices from their hands and make their way to Rhadaman’s shop, and Jael equally reluctantly agreed.
It was only a short journey from the docks to the western side of the city, and soon they were standing outside Rhadaman’s shop. Tanis peeped briefly through the window and waited until the only customer in the shop had left.
“Give me a few moments before you look in the window,” Tanis told her. “I don’t want Rhadaman to look up and see you outside. I’ll speak loudly before I leave, and you can nip out of sight. All I need you to do is see if you can feel any protections going up when he closes the shop.”
“All right,” Jael said tersely. “But I can feel magic right now, even out here.”
“Well, it’s a mage’s shop,” Tanis said practically. “Think about something else. Think about the Book of Whispering Serpents and how we’re going to get it.”
That was unneeded advice; Jael could, in fact, think of little else at this point. She was terribly frightened. This was no theft for a thief barely out of apprenticeship and a girl who couldn’t do anything very well. This was a job for a master thief, at least. But what could they do but try?
Long moments passed, and Jael dared a brief peek in the window. To her amazement, neither Rhadaman nor Tanis was anywhere in sight, but the connecting door between the shop and the house was ajar. Fear loomed sudden and large, and Jael’s heart seemed to flutter in her chest. Cautiously she leaned in the door, trying to find Tanis’s familiar scent among the bewildering chaos of pungent aromas.
Abruptly the connecting door opened wide, and Rhadaman and Tanis stepped back through. Tanis’s shoulders were slumped, and he wore an expression of disgusted resignation. Rhadaman’s hand was on Tanis’s shoulder, and the mage was looking directly at Jael.
“Come in, Lady Jaellyn, and don’t be afraid,” Rhadaman told her, speaking in Olvenic. “And please close the door behind you.”
For a moment time seemed to stretch out into stillness, and Jael could hear the thunder of her heart in her ears, feel with exquisite detail the wood of the door. She took a deep breath and forced her hand to release the door as she stepped into the shop. The sound of the door closing was loud in the sudden silence, as solid and final as the death of hope.
“Please, let’s talk in my house,” Rhadaman said kindly. “I’d rather you didn’t linger here amongst my spells.”
Tanis grimaced but said nothing. There was nothing to say. Jael quietly followed Rhadaman and Tanis through the door and into a comfortably furnished sitting room.
Rhadaman locked the shop door behind them and gestured to Tanis and Jael to sit down. Jael sat down beside Tanis, scooting as close as she could, and Tanis took her hand. Pulling a bell cord in the corner, Rhadaman opened the opposite door and spoke briefly with someone—a servant, perhaps—then turned back to them and sat down himself.
“Please don’t be frightened,” Rhadaman repeated. “I mean no harm to either of you, nor have I revealed to anyone your presence in Zaravelle.”
“Someone else must know,” Tanis said sullenly, “or how would you have found out?”
“As best I know,” Rhadaman said gen
tly, “I am the only mage in Zaravelle capable of casting a farspeaking spell for the purpose of communicating with mages in other far cities, such as Allanmere. News has already reached Zaravelle by way of trade ships down the Brightwater that Allanmere’s Heir vanished from the city a few weeks ago, forcing the High Lord and Lady to choose a new heir. I hope for your sakes that no one else in the city has the knowledge to connect the disappearance of—your pardon, lady—Jaellyn the Cursed from Allanmere with the explosion of numerous light globes in the market. And certainly no one but myself would know that the calibrating spell on my scales failed when a very unusual-looking lass brushed against them two days ago. There have been rumors about you among the mages of Allanmere, Lady Jaellyn, for many years, and I’ve had the opportunity to hear many of those rumors.”
Jael and Tanis exchanged glances, but Jael stubbornly said nothing. Tanis squeezed her fingers reassuringly, but she could feel his hand trembling.
“I’m not surprised you came to Zaravelle,” Rhadaman continued, “only that it took you so long to come here. A ship down the Brightwater and across the coast would have had you here weeks ago. But it’s really none of my concern.”
He was interrupted by a gentle tap at the door. Rhadaman accepted a tray laden with tea, wine, and pastries and laid it on the table between them.
“Please, refresh yourselves,” Rhadaman encouraged them. “No drugs or potions, I assure you.” He frowned slightly when neither of them reached for the tray, then shrugged and poured himself a goblet of wine and nibbled at a pastry.
“I haven’t yet notified the High Lord and Lady of Allanmere that their daughter was here in Zaravelle,” Rhadaman said after a moment’s silence. “I did speak with a mage I know in Allanmere, and she informed me that a new Heir had been chosen a surprisingly short time after you’d disappeared, and the High Lord and Lady had seemingly made no serious effort to find you. That makes me wonder if your ‘disappearance’ wasn’t permitted, or even encouraged.”
“I chose to go,” Jael said boldly. “Nobody shipped me out of Allanmere to get me out of the way for Markus. But that’s none of your concern, either. If what you’re wondering is whether my parents would pay you a ransom for my safe return, yes, they will. So you may as well tell us what you want.”
Rhadaman stared at her blankly for a moment, then smiled slowly, shaking his head.
“My dear child—”
“I’m not a child!” Jael snapped.
Rhadaman inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“Of course, you’re not,” he said. “Forgive me. Lady Jaellyn, I have no intention of holding you against your will, nor of harming you in any way. But you came to my shop for a reason, and I very much doubt that reason was this potion your friend brought—although it is an unusual mixture, I admit—or you’d have simply brought it yourself when you first entered my shop. Since a goodly number of thefts coincided with the explosion of the light globes in the market, and since your friend is wearing a token of the Guild of Thieves—”
Tanis glanced down at his hand and flushed, belatedly covering the token with his other hand.
“—I assume there’s something else you want,” Rhadaman finished smoothly. “Something you weren’t prepared to buy or ask for openly, and something the two of you must have realized you were taking a very great risk to steal. Perhaps if you are willing to speak honestly with me, some arrangement can be reached.”
Jael glanced at Tanis. Almost imperceptibly, Tanis shook his head, and Jael said nothing.
“No? Very well.” Rhadaman sighed and pulled a scroll from his pocket, holding it out. “Your formula, then. I regret I don’t have all of the necessary ingredients to prepare this mixture for you. You needn’t pay me the two Suns we agreed upon, young Caden, or whatever your name is; I’m pleased to be of service. My servant will conduct you to the door, and you can be about your business, whatever it is. I’ll warn you, though, that my belongings—both in my shop and in my home—will be very thoroughly protected. I’ll keep my peace about your presence in the city so long as you make no attempt to violate those protections. Here, take your formula.” He dropped it on the table.
The scroll vanished almost instantly into Tanis’s sleeve, and Jael was halfway to the door before she realized Tanis had yanked her up from her seat. She caught at the doorframe, however, bringing Tanis to an abrupt halt.
“Wait,” she said.
Rhadaman glanced at her, politely curious. Tanis scowled and pulled at her wrist.
“You can’t trust that mage,” he scowled. “Let’s get out of here while we can.”
Jael hesitated a moment longer, then decided.
“I’ll talk to you,” she told Rhadaman. “But not here. Somewhere else. The public room of an inn, or a tavern, maybe.”
“Very well,” Rhadaman said, unperturbed. “But for your sake, I suggest you choose a location where we can at least expect to talk without half the city hearing your business. Mine, of course, is no secret.”
This made sense, and rather sullenly, Tanis suggested the Brimming Mug, a rather expensive establishment only a few moments’ walk away. Rhadaman insisted on buying supper for them all, and they were seated in a quiet corner booth that gave themsome privacy, but where Jael was reassured that the other patrons would not see anything unusual occurring.
“We weren’t intending to come here,” Jael said, choosing her words carefully. “We were actually going west from Allanmere, wanting to see the unexplored country past the Willow River. But in Willow Bend we paid some trappers to take us on their raft down to Tilwich, and they drugged and robbed us. We got away with their raft, but we drifted past Tilwich—”
“—and there’s nothing but wilderness between Tilwich and Zaravelle,” Rhadaman said, nodding. “And that explains the thefts, of course; you’d require money for horses and supplies. Or passage back to Allanmere, perhaps?”
Jael took a deep breath; she’d considered the possibility more than once in the last hour.
“No,” she said. “Horses and supplies to go north again, and then west.”
Rhadaman nodded again.
“No less than what I’d expect of the daughter of the renowned High Lord and Lady of Allanmere,” he said. “But money you already have, and the formula for your mixture, if that’s important to you, and I certainly have no horses or supplies for travelers. What brought you to my shop?”
Jael exchanged troubled glances with Tanis again, but it was too late for reticence.
“The Book of Whispering Serpents,” Tanis said at last.
Rhadaman’s brows drew down and he sat back in his chair, gazing doubtfully at Jael and Tanis.
“I can sense some magic in you, of an odd sort,” Rhadaman said slowly, pointing to Jael, “but neither of you is a mage, and that is a deadly dangerous book. What do you want with it?”
Jael nibbled on a roll while she considered her answer. She’d given her word to Blade that she’d get the book if she could, but she’d also once sworn she would never tell anyone of her dealings with the assassin.
“I owe someone very powerful a favor,” Jael said carefully, “and that person wants the book. I swore I’d get it if I could.”
“And what will this person do with the book?” Rhadaman asked pointedly.
“I don’t know,” Jael admitted. “But she swore—well, I can’t tell you what she swore. But I believe she won’t do any harm with it. And I think if I give it to her, something good might come of it.”
Rhadaman was silent for a long moment, sipping his wine consideringly.
“This person you speak of is in Allanmere?” he asked at last.
Jael nodded.
“I believe you would not aid in bringing harm to your home, even to pay a debt,” Rhadaman said, gazing into Jael’s eyes. “Very well, Lady Jaellyn, I’ll bargain with you for the Book of Whispering Serpents, trusting that you have been honest with me in what you’ve said.”
“What do you want for it?” Tan
is asked warily. “We don’t have much money to spare.”
Rhadaman smiled.
“I wouldn’t want you to have to steal any more,” he said. “No, we’ll find something else. Where did you say you were bound, west of Tilwich?”
“No, Tilwich was just to get supplies,” Jael said before Tanis could stop her. “West of Willow Bend.”
“Hraram.” Rhadaman offered her a seed cake. “Have another. Do you have a map of your planned path?”
Tanis shook his head.
“Not here in my pocket,” he said warily. “Besides, we couldn’t find any maps of the land west of the Willow River.”
“There are none,” Rhadaman said. “Certainly none here in Zaravelle. But I’ve spoken to trappers who work west of Willow Bend, some of whom are willing to gather herbs and the like for me, and I’ve heard a few things you may find it profitable to know. After the Willow River is more forest for three leagues west. Here.” He pulled a roll of blank parchment, a pen, and ink from some mysterious recess in his robe. Dipping the pen neatly into the ink, he scribbled a seemingly random series of lines and curves that gradually coalesced into a sort of map.
“Here is Willow Bend, and the Willow River,” Rhadaman said, indicating the marks on the map. “The forest continues west as I’ve said, and there are a very few tiny towns, trappers’ huts and the like. The forest breaks here, and here is a small area of plains and low stone hills riddled with caves. South of those foothills is said to be another forest, called the Singing Forest. The trappers avoid that forest, say it’s cursed. But look at these hills. Dragons nest in these foothills.”
Jael shivered. Dragons, and they’d been traveling blindly directly toward them. Perhaps the stroke of ill fortune that had sent them so far out of their way had not been such a curse after all.
“None of the trappers who gather plants for me will go near those hills,” Rhadaman said. “Dragons are sometimes slain in the area north of the Brightwater—north of Allanmere, that is—but they don’t nest there, and they’re never seen at all here in the south. I’ve had great difficulty obtaining fresh dragon eggshells, a vital ingredient in certain powerful healing potions.”
Dagger's Point (Shadow series) Page 19