“They’re saved?” I felt lighter.
“Yes. More than that, your information was deemed invaluable, and the government saw fit to give you a reward.” She held out a small bag embroidered with silver thread. “There won’t be any sort of formal presentation or anything. And no one is mentioning Fharen’s name, so you shouldn’t say anything more about the Elf King either. Those kinds of accusations will get you into trouble. But they told me to pass this along.”
Open mouthed, I took the bag, and a quick peek inside revealed ten gold coins. Whoever ‘they’ were they were rich. This was a fortune. The freshly minted shine suggested they came straight from the Crowns Treasury, a payoff to keep me quiet. It was never going to work. I almost handed the bag back to Gypsum but stopped. That would be stupid. I could cause more trouble with their money, so I stuffed the pouch down my bodice.
With this I could afford to buy a new jacket. Some coal for all the stoves in the house would be helpful too. Oh, and some proper furnishings for Jorg’s room.... Staggering drunk or not, I had to get this to the Merchant’s Bank before it closed. The bank would keep me from spending it all on useless baubles. I was bad with money.
“This too.” Gypsum handed me a downy feather.
I raised an eyebrow as I took it.
“From the Avians. The writing on the shaft says ‘Truthspeaker’ and ‘Protector of Hatchlings’ I think. I don’t read Avian well, so don’t ask me what it means. It came with the gold,” she said.
Maybe it was Avian currency? I’d heard they valued funny shaped sticks and other odd things. It was elves and dwarfs who insisted Highcrowne have a coin system. ‘Truthspeaker’ didn’t sound too good though. Could mean a black mark on my record, or more trouble. Still, I tucked it away with the gold.
“Thank you, Gypsum. But why the reward? I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not what Conrad told Markham. He relayed the whole story as he understood it. You uncovered an agent of the Dead God and risked your life in the process. Your investigation illustrated how blind and stupid the Guard has become. More reforms are in the works.”
“Wonderful!” Karolyne had been listening in. “I hope that means a promotion for Conrad. If anyone deserves....” She was off serving the next table, not even waiting to finish her comment.
I felt a surge of joy so strong I gave Gypsum a hug. I wasn’t usually so demonstrative, and she blanched. “What was that for?”
“Giving me my first good day in a long while.” I’d stopped the slavers, helped people, and I’d found Viktor’s killer. The last bit was the only thing that gave me mixed feelings. In the process, I’d become a killer myself—and a good Solhan.
But Gypsum’s words made me feel I’d done something right. I wasn’t worthless. I’d figured out what was going on when no one else had, I’d faced death, and now I’d been paid for it. Butting my nose in where it didn’t belong came natural. Maybe I could make a living out of it?
Maybe Stanley the elf detective wants a partner? I smiled to myself. Ah hell, what did I need him for?
~
A few weeks later, I fastened a new sign on the metal pole overhanging Viktor’s shop. It read:
Kali’s Books
&
Thorne Investigations (enquire within)
Kali nodded approvingly. She still couldn’t read the sign, but we were working on that. She learned quickly, and, using the symbols in Viktor’s ledgers, she had already managed to operate the shop on her own for weeks. She was enamored with the leather-bound volumes and vellum scrolls. I was glad Viktor’s work would continue.
I only wished I’d learned how to remove slave marks, so his secret work could have continued as well.
The mercantile life wasn’t for me. I was glad to let Kali manage the shop. She enjoyed it. As for me, I preferred to lounge behind my desk and wait for someone to come in with a problem. Kali would have to tell them to find me at Karolyne’s—because my desk was a table close to the kaffe. The normal kind. After recovering from a two-day hangover, I wasn’t touching the spiked form ever again. I could have worked from the bookshop, but Nanny, who was all alone in the house, tended to visit every hour for a screeching match with Kali. It was quieter elsewhere.
I headed for Karolyne’s but glanced back and saw Nanny’s sour face peeking from an upper window. She let the curtain slide back, and I got a chill. She had been upset ever since I refused to accept the star-shaped mark between my fingers. She grumbled about ingratitude, forsaking tradition, being a traitor to my people, etcetera. That was another reason I hid at the cafe.
Also, being near Nanny’s household spells and charms gave me a strange tingle in my hands. Even this far away, I could feel her doing some minor necromancy, and my hands glowed with sympathetic green light, like they were trying to join in on their own. The taint of Ilsa most likely.
Of course, it could be my own magic. The ‘potential’ Uncle Ulric was always talking about. It didn’t matter. Ignoring everything I didn’t like worked most days. I clenched my hands into fists to smother the glow and kept walking.
I ran into Conrad going the other way.
“Hi.” I blushed. Since he was no longer working double shifts to deal with my problems, Conrad had time to get his beauty sleep, and it had done its job. He was gorgeous.
“I like the new sign,” he said.
“Thanks. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to buy a book. And ask if you wanted to do something sometime?”
“Besides track down missing people and slavers?”
“Exactly. I’d like to...be friends.”
“Buy your book. I’ll be at Karolyne’s having kaffe if you want some.”
He looked at the bookshop, clearly reluctant. The shopping excursion was obviously an excuse to ask me on a date, but he wouldn’t admit it. “Right. I’ll see you there.”
I smiled as he went over. Kali stood tautly behind the counter, poised to pounce on her new customer as soon as he stepped inside. I’d leave the big strong guardsman to get out of this one himself.
I crossed the street and dropped a coin into the bowl held out by a beggar. There was a whole family of refugees crouched in the alley behind him. He must be the bread winner. I added a few more coins. “What’s your name?” I asked.
He seemed surprised by my direct look. “Henry, My Lady.”
“I’m not a lady. Is this your family?” I let him introduce his wife and two daughters. I tickled the toes of the infant boy. They slowly relaxed in my presence, and I tried to remember their faces. Every single one.
I spotted Grim and Gormless. Spotting them was usually an accomplishment, but they weren’t hiding. They’d recovered from the flesh-eating curse and were back to being imposing. Gormless smiled, and I smiled back.
Duane dropped from his perch on a second story landing. I jumped and quickly tried to cover my surprise. I hadn’t known he was there. He flashed mischievous green eyes my way and took out a few apples from the bag he held. He juggled them, managing six pieces of fruit with fluid grace. It irked me that he looked good whenever he did anything.
Refugee girls darted out to watch. They giggled as he threw an apple to each of them. He tossed a few more behind his back, then caught them in the burlap bag. He bowed and gave the sack to the girls.
“Thank you, Mister Adder,” they said before running back to their parents.
The bell over the bookshop door rang. Conrad was back. He and Duane glared at each other across the street.
I put a hand to my mouth to smother my grin. Their competitive antics helped me forget about blood circles and cinnamon dreams. I needed all the help I could to forget.
I strutted down the cobblestoned road, headed for Karolyne’s, swinging my Ashur and my hips. I walked a little more sexily than normal, but I couldn’t resist.
I’d righted wrongs, rescued the girl—even if she had been Old Nanny—and got paid. It felt good. I felt alive and capable of staying that way. For
now. There was nothing more I could ask for.
I glanced back. Duane and Conrad watched me walk. Except...it would be safer if I could stop falling in love.
THE END
The Eva Thorne Series continues
in A Thorne for a Crown and Blood & Thorne
Both available now
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DEDICATION
This is dedicated to Jenny, Ruth, Duane, and Genaro, who we wish were still around. We also dedicate this to each other. ‘Lorel’ and ‘Clayton’ have always dreamed of doing a book together. After 25 years of love and partnership, it was well past time to start fulfilling that dream.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
~
Lorel and Clayton were both born and raised in the Western United States and were teen sweethearts, brought together by a fierce love of books and hormones, of course. They traveled to Australia in 1997 and never left, finding the sunshine and beaches of “Oz” too irresistible. Lorel has a PhD in Pathology and Once Upon a Time did cancer research before turning to the arcane art of marketing. Clayton has a Master’s Degree in Visual Art and prefers Expressionist painting in acrylics but has recently tackled digital painting, mostly because there’s a hyperactive six-year-old boy running around the house (their gorgeous son, in case you were wondering if that’s normal). Despite having been married for twenty-seven years, they are still madly in love and still writing! As writing partners, they meld logic and creativity, as well as genres. Fantasy, science-fiction, mystery, horror, steampunk, thriller, romance, and the classics—they read them all, and if they can mix them they will.
Connect with Lorel Clayton
Website: http://www.lorelclayton.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lorelclayton
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MORE BY LOREL CLAYTON
A Thorne in Time
Tangle of Thornes: An Eva Thorne Novel
A Thorne for a Crown: Eva Thorne Book 2
Blood and Thorne
SEE MORE AT LOREL CLAYTON’S AUTHOR PAGE
Tangle of Thornes Page 27