“Do you have money?” Caerys asked, worried.
“Yes,” Vanora said, putting on a dark green cloak she found in the basement.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Caerys asked, obviously hoping the answer was no.
“No, you go back to the Rose,” Vanora said.
“Why not go in the morning?” Caerys asked.
Vanora looked at her. Why was Caerys acting like this? Did Bann say something? No, there wasn’t time.
“Because the monger gives us leavings, we show up in the morning asking for an order. Have to place the order in the first three hours after midnight if you want first choice come morning.”
“Oh,” Caerys said.
Vanora looked at her. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Caerys said, her voice small.
Vanora stared at the girl hard. Caerys wouldn’t return Vanora’s gaze, just sat there fretting.
“Good,” Vanora said, upset at Caerys now for some reason she couldn’t articulate. “Will you be here when I get back?”
“Oh,” Caerys said, returning to life, “I suppose. Yeah. I’ll wait. I’m not in a hurry to get back to the Rose,” she managed a weak smile.
Vanora nodded, still unable to make anything out of Caerys’ attitude. She flipped the hood of the cloak up over her head. “Be back soon,” she said.
“Good luck,” Caerys said.
Vanora left the Hammer & Tongs, stopping to look up at Dusk Moon, now bright red. She marked the facing to tell the time, and headed north up Cassel St.
The fishmonger was a full turn away, down by the docks. The streets were mostly empty near the inn, but closing on the water they became more and more crowded until eventually it was as thick as ever, might as well have been daytime, there were so many people and so much light.
She waited her turn in the line at the fishmonger. She wasn’t the only young person, nor the only young girl. Lots of places used serving girls to place their orders. As far as anyone here knew, she was no different from any other.
She walked through the door, leaving the line and the press of bodies behind her, and ordered ten pounds of fresh whitefish from the thin, bearded, grizzled man with the apron covered in blood and fish scales.
“Ten pounds a lotta fish,” the old man said with a crooked smile.
Vanora smiled back. “Business picking up.”
The old man held up the fist full of her coin, “Good business for both of us then,” he said. “I’ll get your chitty.”
He walked through the door in the back, which suddenly and loudly slammed shut behind him.
Vanora heard a shout, the old man. Then something else behind her. A voice.
“Hey there girlie,” a man said behind her, and the icy steel of it made her almost piss her pants.
She turned and there were three men in black cloaks and black leather.
“There’s someone been looking for you,” one of them said, she wasn’t sure which one. They each wore a black leather half-masks covering their mouths.
“My…,” Vanora stuttered. “My mum and da are waiting back at the Fool,” she tried.
“Heh. Nice try kid,” one of them said. “Come on, grab her.”
The lead thief reached out, Vanora found herself unable to move. Then, just as she’d heard the thief’s voice behind her a moment ago, she heard another voice behind her. A woman’s voice.
“Dracones ossa liquescen,” came the voice, and the lead thief screamed. His hand flared, the bones inside glowing so bright, so quickly, Vanora could see them, inches from her face. Then the flesh of his hand vaporized in a flash of light and ash and Vanora was coughing and the man was screaming, holding the stump that had been his hand.
“Black gods,” one of the thieves observed, pulling a small, one-handed crossbow from his belt.
Vanora looked behind her. There was a woman there. Short, not much taller than Vanora. She had brown hair curled tightly behind her head. Brown skin and brown, oval eyes. A heavy red dress with expensive patterning and a cinched waist.
The woman’s hands were clenched, her muscles tight. She looked strong, as strong and compact as Heden, her skin was smooth and glowed with health and her eyes were filled with murder.
She was the most beautiful woman Vanora had ever seen.
A twang and a flash of fire burst in front of the woman’s face. She didn’t blink. It took a moment for Vanora to realize the thief had fired his crossbow bolt and some invisible force turned it to fire in an instant before it could find its target.
“One chance,” the woman said, her voice iron.
“This isn’t worth it,” one of the thieves said.
“My fucking arm!” the first thief said from his knees.
“The girl is worth it,” the third thief said. “Use the Dust.”
The woman made a sound like ‘tch,’ as the second thief pulled a black marble from his vest.
“Comburet cortuum exte,” the woman said, and all three thieves froze in place, their mouths agape. And then, horribly, Vanora could see their hearts begin to glow from inside their bodies.
They howled, but only for a moment. Vanora closed her eyes and felt blasted with heat, her hair blown back with it, she had to hold her hands up to protect herself. She was afraid she’d open her eyes and there’d be only stumps left.
But once opened, her eyes saw only three ashen marks on the floor. Silver, of weapons or coin, bubbling in puddles. The wood floor was scarred but otherwise untouched. The glass marble and the smoke inside, gone.
Vanora spun back around in time to see the wizard behind her relax and straighten up. She looked around the small room as though invisible enemies were possible. She looked like a queen surveying her territory.
Then she looked at Vanora.
“You’re safe.”
“Who are you?!” Vanora blurted finally. “How did you DO that?”
“I’m not important,” the woman said automatically. When she was done sizing up Vanora she made a sound like ‘hmph.’
“Show me how to do that!” Vanora pleaded.
“You don’t want to know how to do that. Trust me. There’s such a thing as terrible knowledge,” she said. “Ask Heden.”
“You’re his friend!” He has friends!
The woman signed and grimaced, deflating a little. “Listen, I can’t be…there’s only a couple of us. And we can’t be everywhere. This is maybe all the help I can give. You have to be careful. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”
“Take me with you!” Vanora said, remembering what the abbot said.
The woman shook her head. “Took me two years to get into the Quill,” she said. “Can’t just knock on the door.”
Vanora didn’t know what this meant, but she felt she had to keep talking or this moment, this woman, would slip away.
“How do you know Heden?” She asked quickly, taking a daring step forward. “Did you…campaign with him?” She wasn’t sure this was the right term.
A silent moment as the woman looked, not unkindly, at Vanora.
“Be careful with him,” the wizard said, opening the back door.
“He’s got a thing about lost girls.”
Chapter Thirty-five
Heden left his clothes in a heap on the floor of his room and slipped into bed naked. As he pulled the sheets around his body he felt another body, warm and smooth next to him.
He froze, every instinct cried out to leap from the bed and arm himself, but he knew it was a woman next to him. He thought it was one of the girls, exhausted, asleep, but the body stirred and writhed against him. He could smell her hair, a fragrance he knew. Her hand ran through the hairs on his chest and then slid down. He was like a stone. The woman giggled.
"You're so predictable," a voice purred. He recognized it, should have known her from the fragrance, and relaxed.
"Hello Lynwen."
Heden sighed and gritted his teeth. The woman, his saint, laughed and slid on top of him.
Her face an inch from his, her warm breath across his lips, she started to kiss him, his neck, and he let her. She ran her hands along his body and he held her in his arms, gently. In the best approximation of love he could manage.
It was not enough.
She pushed herself up. "Gods, you're doing it now aren't you?"
"I don't know what you...."
"You are! Gods," tears welled in her eyes. "You...."
He didn't say anything. She was still on top of him.
"You're doing this on purpose. You're letting me do this because you know it's what I want." She was right. "You know it's what I...."
She couldn't say it. She didn't need to. She got angry and pushed herself roughly off him and out of bed and stood there accusing him.
"You're the only man I...and you know it and it's fucking sympathy. From you! From the man I...from a mortal!"
"It's not just sympathy," Heden said, staring up at the ceiling, adjusting his body and the sheets to conceal anything he might be embarrassed by.
"Shut up!"
Heden clapped his mouth closed and put his hands behind his head.
Lynwen stood there, seething.
“Well?!”
“Ah, you told me to….”
“Shut up!”
“Ok.”
“You’ve got an inn full of trulls, they all look up to you, they all compete for your attention, and you sit there like a fucking knight pining for her in her tower,” she said, pointing in a random direction.
It always came back to Elzbeth. Heden wished, not for the first time, to be somewhere else, somewhere where no one knew him, or the things he’d done, or the people he knew.
Lynwen seethed.
“You know she doesn’t love you?”
“I know.”
“You know you could….”
“I made a promise.”
“You were nineteen!”
“I knew what I was doing.”
“No you didn’t,” she said, and for some reason seemed out of breath. “No you did not.” She shook her head.
Heden was staring at the ceiling.
“Look at me,” Lynwen commanded.
“I’d rather not," Heden said.
Lynwen waited.
Heden sat up, trying to make sure the sheets covered him discreetly without making it look like he was trying to stay covered.
He looked at her.
She was beautiful, of course. She died when she was 29 and thus would look so forever. She was tall and blonde and standing naked before him she looked like a statue from the Commonwealth. Perfect in proportion. A certain curve to the hips and breasts that a tailor would ache to fit. He wondered, looking at her, trying to focus on her face, her red lips, her blue eyes, if this was really how she looked in life, or if it was put on for show. He wasn't sure, and he wasn't going to ask.
When they first met, she and Heden were physically more similar in age. Now he was in his mid-40s. He was aging past her. This didn't bother him so much, but he knew it bothered her.
"I wish...," she said, her voice going soft. "I wish you could see what I see."
He didn't want to ask, but didn't know what else to do.
"What do you see?" he asked, just to be saying something.
"I see a man, noble and strong and good. The best I've ever known. And every time I see you, the best in you is better, and the world is weighing down on you more. And someday...," she said, her voice a warning.
He didn’t know what to say to that. She seemed to shrink a little.
"You lead such short lives," she said, reminding him of the difference between them.
"Lynwen," he said, deciding to defend himself. "Do we have to go over this every time we see each other?" He let the weariness show in his voice. "You act like you’re a normal girl, you're not. You act like we can be together, we can't."
"We could have some time together," she said, and it looked like she was going to cry.
Heden looked at the floor. Looked at his bare white feet poking out from under the sheet.
"She's not waiting for you, you know," Lynwen tried again.
"Can we stop talking about her?"
"She moved on a long time ago, why won't you?"
"It's got nothing to do with her," he explained, not for the first time. "It's me. The promises I made...they don't depend on her. It wasn't a bargain. A contract. It was an oath," he threw a meaningful glance at her.
“Don’t you dare say that to me!” Lynwen said. “Do you think I don’t know? Do you think you can lie to me? About this?”
Heden kept his mouth shut.
“I can’t read your mind, but I can see inside your heart,” Lynwen said. “Everyone has sympathy for you because they think being an Arrogate is so hard, it’s such a burden,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They have no idea. No idea you took your oath to me to forget your oath to her. They can’t see what it does to you. They don’t see you thinking about her every night. Thinking about her every time you see another girl, every time you see a happy couple. Every time you see a mother and father with their children, you go back to her. To what might have been.”
“Please stop,” Heden said, tired more than anything else.
“They don’t see your dreams,” she said. “I’m sorry, did I say dreams? They’re nightmares. You wake up in the middle of the night sweating because you’ve been seeing her with another man, her with a happy family, laughing at you. At how stupid you were to ever think you could be together.”
“You’re in an exceptionally bitter mood tonight,” Heden said.
Lynwen was seething. Her hands balled into fists. But she stopped.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than watch my dreams?” Heden asked.
“No,” Lynwen said, and wiped the welling tears from her eyes. She already hated herself for what she’d just said. “You’re my only follower. My last follower.”
This provoked a reaction, finally. “Last?” Heden asked.
“I can’t do this again, Heden,” Lynwen said, sniffling and shaking her head. “Not after you. I don’t have anything left. I’ve given it all to you and I don’t have anything…,” she stopped.
Heden let the thought linger before he said the inevitable.
“Now you know how I feel,” he said, looking at her with a sad smile.
“Oh gods,” she said. “That dumb bitch has fucked up both of us.”
“Don’t blame her,” Heden said.
“Fuck you,” Lynwen said mildly. “I’ll blame whoever I want. She’s the one who left. I’d never have met you otherwise.”
“Lucky for both of us then,” Heden said, and managed a smile.
“Don’t patronize me,” Lynwen said without much feeling.
He continued looking at the floor. She walked across the floor until she was standing within arm's reach of him. Until he could smell her again.
"If you came here to distract me, it's working," he said.
"That's not why I'm here you prick. You complete shit. I have a message."
"Um," Heden said, adjusting his position in bed. "From who?"
She stamped a foot. "From who? Who do you think?"
That meant Cavall. He cleared his throat.
"What's the message?"
She sighed, waiting for him to look at her again. He looked up at her, fixing his eyes on hers.
"This is why you were made Arrogate." she said.
He looked down at his naked body half covered in white linen, and then looked at her, also naked.
"This?" he asked.
"I hate you so much right now,” her eyes rolled to the ceiling.
“Maybe you could be a little less cryptic.”
"I mean this,” she said, gesturing with her hands as though to encompass the whole room.
"You mean the bishop," he said.
"We can't...," she started. "We can only aid those...," she stopped. "It's hard to explain."
"Try," he said.
"I think I get it. Because he was acting as the bishop would. And now you can do something about it."
"Well, maybe," she said. "We have to sort of...wait until people get an idea, or ask directly, and then nudge them in the right direction."
"Why?" Heden asked. "Who makes these rules?"
"I don't know," she said, sullenly.
"But now you can do something about it," he said.
"You are what we're doing about it," she urged.
He shook his head. "It's not enough."
"I know," she said. "It'll have to do."
"What about the rest of the church?" he asked.
"They don’t suspect," she said. "And if they did...even if you could convince them...I think most of them would just try and exploit the situation. That’s what we’re trying to avoid. Politics," she said.
Heden looked down at the floor again. "I don't know what I can do."
"We believe in you," she said sincerely.
"Oh good," he said.
"You need friends," she said.
"I had friends, they're gone."
"You need new ones," she urged gently.
He looked up at her. He'd almost forgotten she was naked.
"They're out there," she said. "I know you think you failed before, but you did everything for the right reasons."
"I wish you hadn't brought that up," he said.
Silence for a moment, then she said, quietly, "You won't fail again."
The room went still. Neither of them spoke.
"When I need you," Heden said quietly. "When I ask for your aid," he looked up at her.
She was staring at him, hungry. She needed him. He wished there was something he could do about that.
"I'll give you everything you ask for," she said, their voices now near a whisper. "Because I know you'll use it. Because I can't say no to you."
After another moment's silence, she backed up. As the distance between them increased, her voice got louder.
"I shouldn't have laughed at you at the river, with the squire," she said. "I should have let her seduce you. It would have been good for you."
Heden sighed. "Later," he said, "you'll regret saying that to me. You'll feel bad you tried to manipulate me."
Thief: A Fantasy Hardboiled (Ratcatchers Book 2) Page 17