Spurned

by R. Moses

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Kara asked, “You know which graves have jewels in them?”

  Lyla nodded.

  “You don't have a problem showing me which?”

  Lyla hesitated. “It is a grievous sin to disturb a grave according to the scriptures of man. But it is a grievous sin to let your mother and siblings languish in forced servitude. We do not bury things with our fallen, so we have no rules about taking from the dead one way or another.”

  Kara slumped. “I'll be cursed unto the end of my days if I rob a grave.”

  Lyla said, “Many of the graves have curses upon them. Some do not. I can ask the spirits who dwell there to give their worldly goods to you freely.”

  “You can talk to spirits?”

  “Some. Some will listen, but not respond.”

  Kara shivered. That was just a little too creepy. She asked, “Do you already know which graves have the most jewels?”

  “Yes.”

  Kara bit her lip. Was she really ready to do this? She thought she had lost all her morals pickpocketing. What would she consider next, whoring? Assassin for hire?

  She covered her face with her hands. “I'll do it. I won't ask you to help me dig or touch the bodies. Just show me which ones have the jewels.”

  “You will not have to dig. The jewels are encased in the...” Lyla shook her head. “I do not know what they are called. Small stone houses, above the ground.”

  “Mausoleums.” Kara groaned again. “The only family in this village who can afford mausoleums is the noble line of Brahm. I am going to have to rob my own ancestors. Sweet Goddess. That's probably another round of curses and a few more eternities in hell right there.”

  Lyla's eyes were drifting away. She murmured, “Cat's bane.” She stood up. “I remember how to thwart some curses. We put cat's bane on you.”

  “That stinky stuff that grows in yellowish clumps? It repels curses?”

  “A bit. Some of the curses are older and weaker. Even the strongest curse rarely lasts more than three hundred years.”

  “I'm glad you are a fae and know all this. My father forbid my tutor to teach me about magic. He actually banned any magic from the estate.”

  “I am glad to be of help. I cannot repay you enough for saving me from that mage.”

  Kara smiled. “Fair enough. Do you think we ought to go to the graveyard now, before I lose my nerve and think of all the hellfire awaiting me?”

  “Yes.”

  Kara hurried to get ready, putting on her undershirt with the hidden pockets, fresh leggings with her knife safely tucked in the waistband, then stepped into her boots. “Let's go.”

  Lyla said, “There is little to be afraid of if that eases your nerves. Demon spirits can do much harm. Mortal spirits are mostly sad and powerless.”

  Kara shook her head. “Easy for a fae to say.” She picked up the candle.

  “And we should not bring the candle. Someone may see it. I will guide you.”

  Kara blew it out and whispered, “I am trusting you so hard right now, Lyla.”

  Lyla slipped her hand in Kara's. “The cat's bane is on the way.”

  They crept out under the moon. It was a bright night, a beautiful night, and she could see without a candle easily enough. Soft chirrups helped mask Kara's footsteps. Lyla made no sound at all.

  Since she had grown up next to this village, called Augustus Reys, she knew the church was nearby. They barely had to crest a hill before they saw it, clinging to the edge of the village, the spire thrusting hard into the still darkness.

  They slipped down the hill and Lyla steered her over a few feet. “The cat's bane.” She bent down and broke off a head of the ugly, lumpy stuff. Kara took it with her free hand and tucked the stem in her hair, wriggling it down deep in her braid. The smell was sharp and strong and her fingers came away itching.

  They continued on, the moonlight casting a dreamy, silver glow to their walk. Kara wondered at the surreal nature of this moment, her clutching a fae's hand in the darkest hours of the night, going to rob her own ancestor's graves.

  The first clump of headstones loomed up and they paused, then continued on towards the mausoleums. There were four, all in the church's shadow, all with neatly trimmed hedges and fresh flowers about. She had known the priest/caretaker of this graveyard and humble village church her whole life. His name was Father Tanner, and he was everything a priest should be. Kindly and gentle, preaching the scriptures with love instead of hellfire. He had never treated her any differently than anyone else, even though she was just a bastard and a slave.

  And it would reflect very badly on his care of the graveyard if her thievery was discovered. She swallowed back the guilt and continued on.

  Lyla pulled them to the northernmost mausoleum and Kara whispered, “How are we supposed to open it?”

  “I will tell the metal to move for us. I can...speak to it, if you will. Similar to my speaking with spirits and animals.”

  Kara withdrew her hand, amazed at these unfurling powers Lyla spoke of so casually. She realized she kind of liked holding onto her. It was like touching water made flesh. There was a flowing energy fluctuating around her, a seething power. If what that book said was true, those incubi must have been incredibly powerful to defeat the fae.

  Lyla stepped up and placed both her hands on the door. She stared at it and said something faint under her breath. A flash of silver, a hint of magic suffused the night. She stepped back and nodded to Kara.

  Kara tugged at the door, only half-believing it would open. The door did open on the first try-with an enormous screech. The sound shattered the quiet night.

  She stood frozen for a moment, listening for any reaction to so much noise, berating herself for not bringing a lubricant to silence the door completely. Then she shot in the mausoleum and looked around, praying the priest was not in residence. Father Tanner was often out overnight, tending to the sick and dying.

  All was dark and dusty in the small space. It smelled of old death, of yellow bones and rotted cloth.

  Lyla glided past her. Kara's eyes adjusted well enough that she saw Lyla had gone to the casket at the very back, the oldest one, the one made when the Brahm's were considerably more prosperous. The casket appeared to be made of a fine wood, mahogany perhaps. There were three more in the space.

  Four bodies in all to violate.

  She edged over to her. “I've got to hurry. The priest might have heard.”

  “He is stirring, but is deep in a drunken stupor. We should have time.” Lyla rubbed her finger along the wooden edge of the casket as she spoke.

  A faint pop of dry wood separating, then she pushed the lid back and said, “The largest jewel is in the brooch.” She stepped aside and held her hands out. “I will speak with the spirits and open the other caskets.”

  Kara nodded. She made herself move forward and stare down at her ancestor's remains.

  A skull with stringy white hair. A skeletal hand clutching a rusted blade. And an ornately stitched vest finished off with a brooch.

  A golden brooch boasting a ruby the size of a pigeon's egg.

  Kara stopped thinking, she stopped analyzing. She reached in and pulled the brooch away with a soft popping noise. She spotted rings on the fingers next. She pushed her revulsion down and made herself uncurl the hands. She pulled off all three rings.

  She turned and saw Lyla had gotten all the other caskets open. She was now standing at the door, her hands glowing silver, her eyes closed. Small orbs, milky and transparent, floated about her.

  She realized she was seeing ghosts. Lyla whispered, “I can make them feel warmth again for a few moments and they enjoy it very much. They will not bother you. We still must hurry. The priest is pulling on his boots.”

  She tucked the jewelry into her hidden pockets and hurried over to the corpse on the right. A woman this time, her coiffed hair boasting a dozen pins dotted with diamonds. Kara pulled them out, trying not to gag at the sweet, dry scent th
at arose from the disturbed hair.

  She turned to the other two caskets, greed beginning to blossom within her. Surely she had enough to free her mother and siblings, but how about a little something for herself while on the road? Her tunics were threadbare in places, her boots had several holes. Or a new tent, a few cosmetics, good food once in awhile, perhaps even a vial of perfume?

  The next casket boasted another gentleman with rings. His sword hilt was crusted with emeralds so she yanked the heavy thing out, the tip thumping to the stone floor.

  Lyla whispered, “We must go now. The priest is leaving his cell.”

  Kara hissed, “Just one more!” Dragging the heavy sword behind her, she rooted through the last coffin and pilfered four rings and a necklace of opals and silver.

  Lyla tugged on her. “Now! We must go now!”

  Kara shoved the necklace in her shirt and followed Lyla, who had already left. They made a beeline for the carnival, and she lugged the sword as best she could. Despite the corrosion eating away much of the blade, it was still a cumbersome thing, nearly as long as her leg.

  A shout and a curse, and for a moment she wondered if the village had gotten a new priest. Surely that hoarse voice, heavy with too much drink, did not belong to Father Tanner? She kept stumbling and running between the grave stones as Lyla glanced over her shoulder.

  “You two! Stop! I'll call the guard!”

  Kara's sword tip caught on a stone cherub and she cursed it and shoved it back and forth in a panic. She could not lose this, it was nearly as valuable as the brooch...She glanced up and saw Father Tanner weaving towards her, shouting louder than ever.

  Lyla floated over and pulled the blade free of Kara's hands and the stone. She threw it over her shoulder and kept running. Kara followed and they bounded up the hill and down again, straight into the carnival. There would be no mistake where the thieves came from...

  She groaned quietly as they hurried into their tent. The guards would be here soon, searching every wagon, every tent...

  Except Hither's, of course. She could not imagine any guard daring to breach that place. And her father would know about the theft in hours, no doubt. She could not just hand over antique brooches and swords. He would know where they came from.

  As she sat on her cot and inhaled through a throat that tasted of the grave, the idiocy of this venture was really beginning to hit her. She could not give the goods 'as is' to her father. He would likely have her arrested. And the guards would be here soon. There was nowhere to hide the valuables that would stay hidden for long. No doubt their dogs would sniff out this tent in particular once they found their scent in the graveyard...

  “Lyla?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you mask our odor from hound dogs? They are going to sniff the path from the mausoleum to our tent without much difficulty. Or could you sort of glamor them like you do the elephants?”

  “Glamor them?”

  “You know, make them like you a lot. The elephants adore you.”

  Lyla nodded. “I can mask our scent easily enough. And I will confuse the dogs.”

  She took a deep breath and stood up. “Thank you for helping me, Lyla. When the guards come, tell them we have been sleeping all night. You heard and saw nothing.”

  “Of course.” Lyla handed her the sword. “Do not let the dark man take advantage of you.” She plucked the cat's bane out of Kara's hair.

  Kara thought of the contract she had just signed. “He already has.”

  She stepped out into the gray dawn, straight towards Hither's wagon. Her stomach was bound up in such a tight knot it hurt. Would he be furious that she led the priest here to his carnival? Traveling folk were not trusted to begin with. Would her carelessness instigate a pitchfork rally? Or tarring and feathering of an innocent carny?

  Why, oh why, she fretted, didn't I bring something to muffle or lubricate that door with? No one would have ever even know we went in there if I had just taken a second to plan...

  You know why, that small voice said. Greed was already clutching at your heart. A fortune was beyond that door. Who cared about the risk or the obstacles to get to it? And who cares for honor anymore, in a kingdom where dark mages sit close to the King and crooked con men like Hither roam freely, stealing from the endless poor of the land?

  His door was open and she could see a single candle flickering within. His raven swooped by her, its wing clipping her shoulder. It screeched, “Run! Run!” The sound was too loud in the close circle of silent tents. The bird swooped into his master's tiny domain.

  She swooped in after him, ears still ringing from his screech, the sword dragging behind her.

  Mr. Hither smiled as she hovered at the doorway and it gave her the shivers. He was fully dressed despite the hour, as if he had been expecting her. “Kara. Come in.”

  She inclined her head and made herself take the final step, crossing into his lair with barely suppressed terror. She did not know if was because of Lyla's influence, or Icari's opinion, but she was really beginning to see that her employer was a truly dangerous man.

  She struggled to lift the sword and lay it on his desk. She unearthed all the jewelry next, laying the pieces out one by one. Mr. Hither said nothing during her labors, merely swept his hard gaze over the goods, calculating, no doubt, how best to cheat her.

  She stood back. “I know you get half of whatever I take. I want gold coin for the other half.”

  “You assume I want to buy.”

  “Of course you do.” She stilled the shaking terror behind her voice and mostly succeeded. She picked up the brooch. “This alone has got to be worth seven hundred coins.”

  “Everyone within five hundred leagues will know where these jewels came from. The cut of the gems is very old-fashioned and the nature of the theft will make the story spread quickly. I would have to search long and hard to find a buyer who would not ask too many questions.”

  “Find a foreigner to sell to. You have them by your wagon often enough.”

  His face tightened the barest degree. “Do not presume to know my business, girl. I know what you need. You need another thousand gold coins to free your siblings as well as your mother.”

  She tried not to let his eerie knowledge of private matters get to her. It was hard. She blurted out, “How do you know what I want it for?”

  Silence.

  She took a breath. “Fine. Sorry I asked. Give me fifteen hundred gold coins and we can make this deal.”

  He spread his long hands. “You only need a thousand more. Why get greedy?” He grinned at her, every inch the cold businessman.

  She shot back, “Why are you getting greedy? You know my half is worth more than that.” Her knees were beginning to shake, from terror and cold and limp-fingered exhaustion. But there was so much more to do today, she could not stop now...

  He said nothing. The raven mumbled and dug out a chunk of pink flesh. Hither locked gazes with her and his pupils seemed to grow and expand. His black eyes swallowed her, consumed her. He said, “You will never question my end of the bargain again. Understand?”

  She nodded, mesmerized.

  “I will indulge your questioning this once and answer. Part of the reason you get less for this is the difficulty in finding a buyer as I mentioned before. The second reason is I will have to bribe the priest and the guards of Augustus Reys so they will not bring a pitchfork rabble here to burn the carnival down. Your little adventure will likely have me dealing with the town officials all morning and afternoon, wasting my time cleaning up your mess while I should be setting up the carnival.”

  Kara opened and closed her mouth and found she had nothing to say. His eyes still bore into her, sucking her into the darkness where he dwelled.

  He got up and went to the shadows in the very back of his wagon, breaking her from his spell. She heard the clink of metal gears, heard the soft shuffle of coins rubbing together. The raven hopped down and studied the blood-red brooch, then looked at her with a bl
inking eye.

  Mr. Hither came back and set a huge leather bag on his desk.