by Tanya Huff
"A relic!"
"I saw it first!"
The sounds of a fight replaced the sounds of pursuit, and Magdelene used the time gained to cover the length of the alley, round a corner, and run smack into a religious procession. By the time the first of her pursuers had come into sight, she'd borrowed a tambourine and an orange veil and was dancing away down the road, indistinguishable from any other acolyte.
At the first cross street, she returned her disguise, regretfully declined an invitation to lunch, and went looking for a member of the city guard.
* * * *
"Excuse me, Sergeant?" When he glanced down, dark eyes stern and uncompromising under the edge of his helm, Magdelene gave him an encouraging smile. "I was wondering, who would you consider the best thief in the Five Cities?"
"Ciro Rasvona." His dark gaze grew a little confused, as though he wasn't entirely certain why he'd answered so readily.
"And where would I find him?"
The sergeant snorted. "If I knew that, I'd find him there myself."
"Maybe later," the wizard promised. "I meant, which of the Five Cities does he use as his base?"
"This one."
"This one? My, my." Magdelene was a big believer in luck – luck, coincidence, and just generally having life arrange itself in her favour. It made everything much less work, and she was a really big believer in that.
"If there's nothing else I can do for you..."
"Maybe later," she promised again, and reluctantly let him walk on.
* * * *
Ciro Rasvona had an average set of rooms in an average neighbourhood under another average name. His neighbours, when they thought of him at all, assumed he worked for the city government, a belief he fostered by living as outwardly boring a life as possible. He met his clients in public places, and he brought neither friends nor lovers home.
His own mother hadn't known where he lived. This was fortunate since, during the trial, she'd cheerfully implicated everyone she knew in the hopes of clemency.
All things considered then, Ciro was astonished when he opened his door and saw an attractive, pale-skinned woman in foreign clothes sitting in his favourite chair, absently fondling his rosewood flute. Leaving the door open in the unlikely event she turned out to be a constable and he had to make a run for it, he took a step forward, smiled pleasantly, and said, "Excuse me. Do I know you?"
Behind him, the door closed.
Heart pounding, he whirled around, yanked it open, and ran back into his rooms, ending up considerably closer to the woman in the chair before he could stop.
"I've come for the mirror," Magdelene told him.
His jaw dropped. "You...? You're...?"
"The most powerful wizard in the world," Magdelene finished when it seemed as though he wouldn't be able to get it out.
"But you're... I mean..." He swallowed and waved one hand between them for no good reason. "You, uh, you don't look like a wizard."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. No pointy hat, no robe, no staff." Magdelene sighed. "If I had a grain of sand for every time I've heard that, I'd have a beach. But we're not here to talk about me." She leaned forward. "Let's talk about the mirror."
"I don't have it."
"You've sold it already?"
"Not exactly." When her grey eyes narrowed, he felt compelled to add, "I was hired to steal it."
"For who?"
"My clients don't tell me their names."
"Oh, please."
Ciro supposed he might be reading a little too much into the way the wizard's hand closed around the shaft of his flute, but it looked comfortably like a warning to him. "All right, I know who he is. But I can't give you his name," he added hurriedly. "I took an oath."
"You also took my mirror."
"It was a blood oath."
"A blood oath?" Magdelene repeated. When he nodded, she sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. The thief had turned out to be attractive, in an unprincipled sort of a way, with good teeth, broad shoulders, and lovely, strong-looking hands. And he played the flute. In a just world, she would have found him, retrieved her mirror, and suggested a way he could begin making amends. But he didn't have the mirror, and a blood oath, unbreakable by death, or even Death, put a distinct crimp in her plans.
Then, suddenly, she had an idea. "Could I hire you to steal the mirror back?"
Ciro shook his head, a little surprised that he wanted the answer to be different. "I'd never be able to get it."
"You got it from me."
"Your pardon, Lady Wizard, but your door wasn't even locked. You relied too much on your reputation to protect you, forgetting that a reputation can also attract unwanted attention."
"Like yours?" Magdelene muttered.
He bowed. "Like mine."
In the silence that followed, Magdelene considered her options and found herself a little short. Magical artifacts were essentially null and void as far wizardry was concerned, and she couldn't force the thief to tell her where it was. Tossing the flute onto the table, she stood. "Looks like I'll have to do this the hard way."
Suddenly drenched in sweat, Ciro took a step back. "Lady Wizard, I beg you..."
"Relax. I haven't time to deal with you right now." She paused, one hand on the door, and half turned to face him. "But I know you, Ciro Rasvona." Her voice lingered over his name, sending not entirely unpleasant chills up and down his spine. "When this is over, I can always find you again."
A thief had no need for a conscience, but a remarkably well-developed sense of self-preservation made a handy substitute. "I could show you where the mirror is. Actually taking you there wasn't covered by the oath," he explained when both her brows rose. As they slowly began to lower again, he smiled nervously. "I, uh, guess I should've mentioned that before."
* * * *
Wondering what had happened to his policy of never taking risks he could avoid – She'd been about to leave, you yutz! – Ciro lead the way down the stairs and out onto the street, exchanging a silent bow with a neighbour in front of the building. When that neighbour raised a scandalized middle-class brow at the sight of his companion, he took her elbow and began hurrying her toward one of the hub streets, aware of eyes watching from curtained windows.
"Did you really want to spend the rest of your life as a cockroach?" Magdelene asked conversationally.
"Sorry." Praying he was imagining the tingle in his fingers, he released her arm. "It's just that I've worked very hard at remaining unnoticeable, and you're attracting attention."
A little surprised, Magdelene tossed her hair back off her face and turned to stare at him. "I'm not doing anything."
Ciro sighed. "You don't have to."
"They're not used to seeing wizards around here?"
She was wearing an orange, calf-length skirt, red leather sandals, and a purple, sleeveless vest held closed with bright yellow frogging. "Yeah. That's it."
"I guess you should've considered the consequences before you stole my mirror."
"I took every precaution. You shouldn't have been able to track me."
"I didn't. You're dangling a Five Cities talisman from your left ear so I came directly here."
Unable to stop himself, Ciro clutched at the earring. So much for that protective crystal he'd been carrying. "You had a spell on the house to capture my image."
"No. I had a lizard."
* * * *
Both sides of the main street were lined with shops, merchandise spilling out onto the cobblestones. Magdelene shook her head as she followed the thief through the glittering displays. "This is really unfair," she muttered. "First time I make it to one of the Five Cities and I'm here on business."
Ciro deftly snagged an exotic bloom from a hanging basket, tossing the vendor a copper coin in almost the same motion. "Perhaps when you've brought your business to a close," he said, presenting the flower with a flourish, "I can show you around."
"Are you sucking up?"
"Is it working?"
"Not yet."
"Should I keep trying?"
"Couldn't hurt." He really did have a very charming smile, Magdelene decided, tucking the blossom into her hair, and she'd never been very good at holding a grudge. "Is the mirror in the city?"
"I can't tell you that, Lady Wizard."
"Call me, Magdelene." Titles implied a dignity she certainly wouldn't bother living up to. Stepping over a pile of mollusk shells, their pearly interiors gleaming in the sunlight, she rearranged the question. "Are we staying in the city?"
"Yes."
"Good. I might just find H'sak in ti..."
"It is Her!"
"Oh, nuts." Grabbing Ciro's arm, she ducked into the nearest shop."
"What's going on?"
"I'll explain later."
"How may I help you, Gracious Lady?"
Magdelene flashed the shop keeper a somewhat preoccupied smile. "Does this place have a back door?"
"But of course," he nodded toward a beaded curtain nearly hidden behind bolts of brightly coloured fabric. "And on your way through, perhaps I can interest you in this lovely damask? Sale priced at only five coppers a measure. I offer a fine exchange rate on coin not of the Five Cities, and I deliver."
The most powerful wizard in the world hesitated, then sighed and shook her head. "Unfortunately, we're in a bit of a hurry."
"Because of the demon?" Ciro asked in an undertone as she pushed him through the curtain.
From outside the shop came an excited babble of voices, growing louder.
"Yeah. Him too."
* * * *
"You appeared in the Hersota's shrine?" Ciro tapped his forehead twice with the first three fingers of his right hand – just in case. "No wonder you caused so much excitement. Her return has been prophesied by three separate sects."
"I didn't know it was her shrine, did I? It was just the only reference point I had in any of the Five Cities." She peered around the corner then led the way back onto the hub street some blocks from where they'd left it. "So, what was the Hersota like?"
"According to her believers, she was a stern and unforgiving demiurge, who preached that hard work and chastity were the only ways to enlightenment."
Magdelene stared at him in astonishment. "And they want her to come back?"
"I never said that I was waiting for her."
He sounded so affronted that Magdelene chuckled and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. There was muscle under the modest sleeve of his cream-coloured shirt, she noted with approval, and when he shot her a questioning glance, she answered it with her second best smile.
Her fingers were warm even through the cloth, and for a moment her smile drove the thought of unimportant bodily functions, like breathing, right out of Ciro's mind. He'd felt safer while she'd been threatening him. "I, uh, I stole your mirror," he said. It seemed important that she remember that.
Magdelene waved the reminder off. "Now you're helping me find it."
"I broke into your home."
"I should've locked the door."
Wondering if he might not be better off finding a member of the City Guard and turning himself in, Ciro escorted the wizard out into the Hub and around the civic fountain. "We're here."
"This is the government building."
"That's right."
"The mirror's in there?"
"I can't tell you that."
"I guess it is, then."
The government had outgrown its building a number of times, adding larger and equally unattractive structures as needed. The result looked pretty much exactly like what it was, architecture by committee – or more precisely, a series of committees.
Shaking her head, Magdelene released Ciro's arm. "This is the ugliest pile of rock I've ever seen," she told him, walking toward it. "And I saw Yamdazador before the desert sands engulfed it."
Around the Great Lake, time had downgraded that ancient city's sudden and inexplicable disappearance from legend to parental warning; "I swear by all the gods, if you don't stop stuffing beans up your brother's nose I'm sending you to Yamdazador."
Running to catch up, Ciro gasped, "You were at Yamdazador?"
"I don't care what you heard, it wasn't my fault."
After a moment, he decided he didn't really want to know.
"So, now you're here, what's your plan?" he asked as they reached the stairs.
"My plan?" Pausing by the entrance a more practical administration had cut into the huge, brass double doors, Magdelene turned to face the thief. "I plan on getting my mirror back before H'sak is either purposefully or inadvertently released, and then I plan on making your client very, very sorry he ever hired you."
Ciro winced. "Good plan."
"I thought so. Let's get going."
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did, he actually felt the blood drain from his face. It was an unpleasant feeling. "You want me to go with you."
"I might need your help."
"But I already told you, I won't be able to get near the mirror; it'll be too well guarded."
"You can't get near it on your own, but you don't know what you're capable of when you're with me." She winked and lead the way inside.
While his mind was still busy trying to plan an escape route, his body happily followed. Oh sure, he told it as they crossed the atrium. One lousy double entendre, and you're willing to walk into the lion's den. "Magdelene, this is a big place, and I can't lead you any closer. If you can't scan for it, you'll never find the mirror."
"Of course I will, this is a government building, isn't it?" Slipping deftly between the constant stream of robed officials crossing and re-crossing the atrium, Magdelene made her way to the desk at the centre of all the activity. "Excuse me, could you please tell me if any of the senior officials has recently put him or herself incommunicado? Still in the building but not to be disturbed under any circumstances?"
The clerk glanced up from the continual flow of parchment, papyrus, and wax tablets crossing his desk, pale features twisted into an impatient scowl. "Who are you?"
"If you must know, I'm the most powerful wizard in the world."
He leaned out far enough to get a good look at her. "I find that highly unlikely," he sniffed.
* * * *
"Why would he just give you that information?" Ciro demanded as they hurried through the halls.
"Successful government employees survive by recognizing power and responding to it."
"You mean kissing up to it."
"If you like."
According the clerk, Governor Andropof had spent the day conducting research in the old library and was so insistent on not being disturbed that he'd put guards on all the entrances. "He was in there this morning when I got to work, and he hasn't been out since. Please stop melting my wax. His assistant took him lunch, cold fish cakes and steamed dulce, but I don't know if he ate it."
Which was a little more information than Magdelene had required, but, happily, it had segued into directions. "Go through that door, second right, past roads and public works, up the stairs, go right again, it's at the end of the long hall, and I'd be very grateful, Lady Wizard, if you could return my export documents to a recognizable language."
"Wait a minute! You can't go in there!"
About to follow Ciro into one of the older parts of the building, Magdelene turned to see a clerk, identical but for gender to the clerk in the atrium, hurrying toward them.
"Tourists..." The clerk forced the word through stiff lips. "...are only permitted in the designated areas."
"I'm on my way to see the governor."
"Have you got an appointment?"
"Have you got a desire to have a demon eat your liver?" Her tone made it clear that this was not a rhetorical question.
* * * *
"Another successful government employee?" Ciro asked as they trotted up the forbidden flight of stairs.
Magdelene nodded. "I'm quite impressed by the state of your civil servic
e, no wonder Talzabad-har runs so smoothly. I'm a little disappointed in the governor, though."
"You're disappointed in the governor? Why?"
"Why? He hired a thief, and he's planning to use a demon for political gain."
Ciro turned to stare at her in amazement, tripped over the top step, and would've fallen had she not caught him. "Magdelene, he's a politician!"
"And?"
"You don't get out much, do you? This is normal behaviour for a politician. In fact," he added as she set him back on his feet, "by Five Cities standards, he's a bit of an underachiever."
"I've never understood this obsessive power-seeking thing," Magdelene mused as they turned the last corner and started down a long, narrow hall, barely lit by tiny windows up under the ceiling.
"That's because you've got as much of it as you could ever want." Ciro waved toward the pair of city guards standing shoulder to shoulder in front of a square, iron-bound door. "This looks like the place. What are we going to do about them?"
"Not a problem."
"I was hoping you'd say that." Thankful that the light was so bad, the thief kept his head down as they approached. The last thing he needed was some bright boy in the guards remembering his face. He needn't have worried; they were both watching Magdelene.
"Hi. Is this where the governor is?"
"Yes, ma'am," said the taller of the two.
"But we can't let you go in," added his companion.
She smiled sympathetically up at them. "It sure must be boring guarding this old door. You look like you could use a nap."
There's just something about men in uniform. Attempting to put her finger on just what that something was, she watched the two topple over in a tangle of tanned, muscular legs and short uniform kilts. Oh yeah, now I remember...
The door wasn't warded, but it was locked. Blowing it off its hinges in a blast of eldritch fire, announcing her presence, as it were, with authority, had its merits, but she didn't want to startle the governor into doing something he'd regret. He'd only regret it for about fifteen or twenty seconds, depending on which end H'sak started with, but since she'd then be the one who had to deal with the demon there'd probably be less trauma all around if she merely...
"Magdelene?" Ciro straightened, slipped his lock pick back into the seam of his trousers, and pulled the door open a finger width. "We can go in now."