Dance of Thieves

by Mary E. Pearson

  The way he said it, I knew he considered a Vendan soldier anything but a prize, but it pushed Jase’s patience to its limit. “Move along,” Jase ordered. “We’re done here.”

  The mood changed in an instant, and Paxton’s flippant attitude vanished. This was not an order from one cousin to another, but from Patrei to underling, and it cut through the air with as much menace as a sword. There was no question that one more word from Paxton, and Jase would do something unpleasant. Paxton stiffened, his Ballenger pride evident, but he wasn’t stupid. He silently left without a good-bye, his crew following close behind him.

  Jase’s eyes remained fixed on them as they walked away, a vein at his temple raised and hot.

  “Is there nothing you won’t steal, Jase Ballenger?”

  He looked at me, confused.

  “Move along?” I said, trying to prick his memory. “My phrase to you? At least you didn’t threaten to cut his pretty neck. Or maybe you only said it because you were swept away with a nostalgic moment?”

  A gleam lit his eyes, warmth replacing the rage that had been there seconds ago. “I guess your words suit me. Will borrowing them cost me something else?”

  His gaze settled into me, touching me in intimate ways. I needed to throw the wall back up between us, but instead my blood raced warmer. I pulled in a shaky breath. “Not this time,” I answered. “Consider it a gift.”

  His lips had barely parted, a reply imminent, when his attention was turned away by Priya and Mason, heckling his name as they laughed and strolled toward us, talking about the hour being well past noon, the hot sun, a cool tavern, a cold ale, roast venison, and—I didn’t hear what else. Timing was everything, and theirs was perfect. The noise rose, the shadows swirled, sun dappled shade swayed with the breeze, and the arms of the city reached out to spirit me away.

  And even the eyes that had been quietly watching us from afar were bewildered when I disappeared.

  * * *

  Wren meant to be angry. I saw it in her eyes, but once we were far from everyone else, in a quiet little alley, she blew out a fierce relieved breath and hugged me. Hugs were rare from Wren. In fact, the only time I could remember one before was when she clutched me after her family died.

  “By the gods, where have you been?” she demanded, her face flushed with heat.

  “You didn’t lose faith in me, did you?”

  Synové’s eyes narrowed in the shadows of her hat, their blue ice sparking, a wicked smile curling her mouth. “Who cares where she’s been? What has she been doing? Tell us everything.”

  I told them about the labor hunters and our escape—and about the chain that kept us together. I skipped the parts of our journey that I knew Synové was hoping for. “But the best part is I’m inside Tor’s Watch now and have a reason to stay for a while.” I explained further about the letter to the queen, and the conditions I had laid down. “My little business agreement with the Patrei will not only give me access and time to search the compound, but will also provide reparations to the settlers in the process. They’re going to get everything back that they lost.” They stared at me, not looking as pleased as I had expected. “It really couldn’t have worked out better,” I added. “Any sign of Natiya yet?”

  “Hold on just a minute,” Synové balked. “You think we’re going to let you breeze over the main item? Him. You were both out for blood last we saw you, but just now, the sparks flying between you two could have singed my hair. What’s going on?”

  I looked to Wren for help. She shrugged. “Might as well tell us. You know she won’t stop.”

  I confessed that there had been a moment or two between us when we were out in the wilderness, but now it was over.

  Synové snorted. “As over as an old man’s grudge. Did you do it? You know, it?”

  “No!”

  “Don’t be so touchy, Kazi. Whatever you had to do to occupy your time is fine with me. And he does clean up well. So does his friend. That tall, dark, handsome one. What’s his name?”

  I looked at her in disbelief.

  “Just playing with you,” she said and shoved my shoulder. “Sort of.” She leaned against the wall of the shop we were hiding behind and folded her arms, ready to get down to business. “There’s no sign of Natiya and Eben yet. We’ve been watching for them in town. Nothing.”

  It was a worry. It wasn’t like Natiya to be late, but our plan had cushions in it for the unexpected, like weather or lame horses. We discussed the possibilities—even bandits on the road—but between Eben and Natiya, we were sure bandits would be on the losing end of any encounter. Eben had been trained to become the next Assassin of Venda, but after the war that position was eliminated. The queen disapproved of stealth murders, especially since she had narrowly escaped one herself. But his skills were still there. His mastery of a knife was awe-inspiring.

  “We know they’ll show up,” Wren said. “They’re just delayed for a good reason. That will give us plenty of time to lie low, like she ordered.”

  “And for you to milk as much as you can out of the Ballengers for the settlement,” Synové added.

  I smiled. “Yes, that.”

  Wren’s brow lifted with skepticism. “You really think they’ll keep their word?”

  Jase loathed the idea. His brothers were furious. But yes, I did believe they would keep their word—that lofty Ballenger pride. It was a business transaction they had agreed to. “They’ll not only keep their word—they’re doing the work themselves. It was all part of our deal. The Ballengers will be digging fence posts.”

  Wren grinned. “You’re evil,” she said. “You could steal the nose off a man’s face, and he wouldn’t know it was gone for a week.”

  “It’s genius, I admit,” Synové said. “Even Natiya would crack a satisfied smile at that one. Any sign of our man yet?”

  Our man. The reason we were here. I heard the tension in her voice.

  I shook my head and explained that it was a large, sprawling compound with multiple homes and offices that were as big as palaces. “And there’s the tunnel too, though I’m not sure it leads to much. To search everything is going to take a while, plus there’s a lot of people who work there that I—”

  “And dogs!” Wren interjected. “They have crazed dogs! Did you know that? Dozens of them!”

  Dozens? I had only seen two. Becoming friends with that many might be more of a challenge than I thought. Wren said their efforts to look for me inside the walls of Tor’s Watch were thwarted by the nasty beasts.

  “A few arrows could have taken them down,” Synové replied.

  Wren frowned. “And a dozen dead dogs just might rouse the guards’ suspicions.”

  Synové shrugged. “Could have taken them down too.”

  “And killing everyone in sight just might go against the queen’s orders,” I reminded her.

  Synové knew that. We were ordered not to kill anyone in order to catch our game—unless our own lives were threatened. There was still some distrust when it came to Venda—we weren’t to make it worse for Vendans who were trying to settle in new areas. Get him and get out. That was our task, and that was it. Like plucking a rotten apple from a crate.

  I told them that we also had the bad timing of being plummeted into the middle of a power war spawned by Karsen Ballenger’s death. Other factions wanted control of Hell’s Mouth and its riches. “And these other factions were the ones who sent in the labor hunters. They paid them up front with no other expectation than to scare the citizenry and create a mutiny of sorts in order to gain control. It could be they were the ones who really attacked and burned the Vendan settlement too.”

  “No,” Wren argued. “Caemus said—”

  “Caemus said the Ballengers took a short horn as payment. That is all.”

  “That’s enough. It’s still stealing.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with that, but it was too dark to see who attacked and pillaged the settlement that night. Maybe someone else is trying to stir the w
rath of the Vendan queen. Jase denies it was them.”

  “And you believe him?”

  I shrugged. “It’s possible.”

  Wren and Synové exchanged a long knowing look.

  “I know what you’re thinking but—”

  “He’s duped you, Kaz,” Wren moaned. “You of all people. I can’t believe you’ve fallen for—”

  “I haven’t fallen for anything, Wren. I just want you to know there are other risks here besides the Ballengers, and we have to watch out for them. Someone’s been setting fires too. Six so far. Have you seen anything?”

  “We set one of them,” Wren answered.

  “Maybe two,” Synové added.

  “You what?”

  “I had no choice!” she said. “It was the middle of the night, and we were still hiding from corner to corner trying to get out of town. I shot a burning arrow into an oil lamp and another into a woodpile. I had to create a distraction so we could get our horses out of the livery. You know that bastard stable master stole our saddles and gear?”

  Dear gods, if Jase finds out that they set even one of those fires—

  “Did you burn a house?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  “A woodpile, Kazi. And a wagon of hay. Why are you so jumpy?”

  “Because the Ballengers are jumpy and determined to find who is attacking the city. I don’t want you mixed up in that battle.” I thought about the severed ears. “They wouldn’t understand, and it could get ugly.”

  “No one knows we’re here.”

  Yet. Jase memorized details. Their changed clothes and hats wouldn’t hide them for long. They needed something more permanent to protect them. They needed Jase’s word.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  JASE

  “Where is she?”

  My back had only been turned for seconds. She’d been right next to me. Drake and Tiago jumped, embarrassment flooding their faces, their eyes shooting across the plaza, down avenues, wondering how she could have disappeared so fast.

  She was gone.

  I didn’t think someone could have taken her. She was gone because she wanted to be.

  I scanned the plaza, looking for Yursan, and spotted him outside the pub. He shrugged. He had lost her too. But there was no sign of Garvin—which was a good omen. We moved to the center of the plaza, watching for him, waiting.

  And then a whistle pealed out.

  His signal.

  * * *

  “Hello, Kazi.”

  She was walking on the boardwalk in front of the apothecary when I intercepted her. “Where’d you rush off to?”

  Her steps faltered, then stopped. “Me?” she answered innocently. “I didn’t rush anywhere. Just taking in the sights. I guess I must have wandered off.”

  “Meeting friends?”

  She whirled and saw her cohorts at the end of the walk. Mason held the one with long red braids by the arm. Samuel and Aram stood on either side of the other one. The rest of our crew stood behind them, including Garvin, who had done his job well. There would be no more slipping away. Her fellow soldiers had been here the whole time, and I was certain Kazi knew it.

  She looked back at me, her eyes narrowing to slits. Her tongue slid slowly over her teeth, and then she walked toward me. “Look here, Jase,” she said, patting the wall. “The place of our first meeting. I bet this is no accident, is it?”

  I looked at the apothecary sign over our heads, surprised. “Actually, it is.”

  She stepped closer and her hands slid upward around my neck, her face drawing near, her lips inches from mine. It was an unusual moment for an embrace. I wasn’t expecting it, but I wasn’t opposed to it either. My arms slid around her waist and I pulled her closer.

  Her cheek touched mine. “Think again,” she whispered into my ear. “This is no accident. I led you here. This is a grand moment I’m offering you—if you do the right thing. Imagine, the mouthy Rahtan captivated by your charm and leadership while everyone watches—playing with your hair, laughing, smiling, maybe even kissing you. What a perfect way to erase the shocking image of me slamming you up against this very wall and holding a knife to your throat. Everyone would have a new image to remember and whisper about. It would cement your claim that I, and by proxy, the queen, am on your side.”

  She smiled, her fingers playing with my hair as she had just described, playfully pulling a strand over my eye. “Release them,” she ordered quietly. “Now.”

  No doubt everyone who was watching was imagining a very different conversation playing out behind our whispers. “Keep your word and our agreement,” she said, “and acknowledge Wren and Synové as guests of the Ballengers, free to come and go as they please. In fact, they prefer to stay here in town. I’m sure you can put them up at one of your inns. Free of charge. No questions asked. And they keep their weapons.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “The alternative is I slam you up against this wall again and make the image of the Patrei on his knees permanent.” She shrugged. “I imagine that would only add to your troubles. It might even be written in your history books. The Fall of the Ballengers.”

  “So this is another one of your blackmailing schemes?”

  “A business proposition.”

  I laughed and tightened my hold on her back, squeezing her against me. “You? Take me down again? Things have changed a little since that last time.”

  “Think so? You don’t even know half of my tricks yet. Do you really want to take that chance? Everyone’s watching. I think I even spotted Paxton across the way.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m helping you, Jase. I’m giving you a chance to do the right thing. My friends are not your problem. Let them go.”

  “I don’t need an outsider, much less a Vendan, to tell me the right thing to do.”

  “Maybe you do. You promised me you would never harm them. Holding them against their will when they’ve done nothing is harm. Your word means nothing?”

  Neither of us were smiling now.

  “A large dinner out in the gardens is planned tonight for family and friends. It would be better if your friends came along quietly with us. As our new guests, their absence would be both suspicious and insulting.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Is there anything that you Ballengers don’t find insulting?”

  “Plenty. It’s just that you Vendans are so accomplished at dishing insults out.”

  “Fine. They’ll come to your little festivity, but they’re free to leave when it’s over.”

  Her gaze was steady, unrelenting.

  Rahtan as guests and in possession of their weapons, which included quivers of arrows, when we still didn’t know who had started the fires?

  Kazi’s gaze held, as unblinking as a statue, her loyalty to them fierce. I finally looked away, calling to Samuel. “Show our guests to the Ballenger Inn. Make sure they have the best rooms and everything they need.”

  Her finger gently pushed on my jaw, turning my attention back to her. “One last thing, Patrei. No more tails. Call them both off. I am either your honored guest with whom you have an agreement. Or I am not.”

  How did she know? The decoy, I understood, but Garvin was damn near invisible.

  “No more tails,” I agreed, and I brought my mouth to hers before she could say one more thing. I was through with conditions.

  I thought the kiss would be awkward, strained, but she relaxed in my arms, creating the show that she promised. I pressed her against the wall—the image that would burn in everyone’s memory and erase the last one—but that was the last of the show, at least for me. I felt her tongue on mine, the warmth of her lips, breathed in the scent of her skin and hair, and we were in the wilderness again, and nothing else mattered.

  * * *

  We sat in a dark corner of the tavern sipping a cool ale. Priya fanned herself with a tattered menu, and Mason absently spun a spoon on the table. After seeing Wren and Synové escorted to the inn, Kaz
i had gone back to Tor’s Watch with Jalaine and my mother.

  “She made you,” I said.

  Garvin swilled back the last drips of his ale. “No. She never looked my way,” he answered. “But when you stopped her outside the apothecary, she did spot me in the crowd.”

  “She’s seen you before?”

  He bit the corner of his lip, still chewing on some memory. “I didn’t place her when Mason first pointed her out to me. I was too far away. But seeing her up close—I know her, somehow, from somewhere, but I’m not sure where.” He told me that when he used to run wagons sometimes he went into Venda, mostly for the Komizar, sometimes for merchants in the jehendra, but the last time he was there was about seven years ago. “How old is she?”

  “Seventeen.”

  He rubbed his bristled cheek, trying to recall where he had seen her. “That would make her just a kid the last time I saw her. What about her name?”

  “Only Kazi. No surname. But she goes by Kazi of Brightmist. I guess that’s the—”

  “It’s one of the poorest quarters in Sanctum City. Well, truth is, they’re all poor, but Brightmist is an especially bad one. Don’t let the name fool you. Nothing bright about it. Never sold any goods there. No one in those parts has two coins to rub together. Her name doesn’t sound familiar though.”

  “There must be a few well-to-do families. She said her father’s a governor and her mother a general.”

  He shrugged doubtfully. “It’s possible, I guess.”

  I asked why a ten-year-old among thousands would stand out for him. He shook his head. “Don’t know. But I’ll place her eventually. Faces are what I’m good at—even if she was just a kid at the time.”

  “Seven years, seven inches, and”—Priya gestured toward her chest—“plenty of new curves tend to transform a girl.”

  Garvin nodded in agreement. “But the eyes—those don’t change. Something about hers sticks. The fire in them. That girl has burned people.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll see you tonight. Maybe it will come to me by then.” He tipped his hat and left.

  Priya circled her finger in the air to the barkeep for another round of ale then leaned forward with a warning glare at Mason, clapping her hand over the spoon he kept spinning to keep him quiet. She looked back at me. “Up until her little disappearance, she did well today. We were following in your trail, and everyone we talked to mentioned her. Apparently she pulled a coin out of the ear of the baker’s daughter? They were both impressed.”