Dagger's Point (Shadow series)

by Logston, Anne

  But Jael wasn’t the Heir anymore, and if she wanted to help Tanis with his thievery, she could do it if she liked—she could even become a thief if she liked, if she weren’t so clumsy and unlucky. Suddenly the heady sense of freedom seemed positivelyoverwhelming, and impulsively Jael turned and hugged Tanis, almost making him spill his ale.

  “What’s that for?” Tanis asked surprisedly.

  “I don’t know,” Jael said, laughing. “For being here. For being you. Because I’m happy. Now tell me how I can help you.”

  “Well, for a start you can hug me like that again when I’m expecting it,” Tanis told her, grinning. “But for the rest, come and look.”

  Tanis led her to the north side of the market and pointed wordlessly to one of the stalls. Jael glanced in the direction indicated, but hurriedly turned away when she realized the vendor sold nothing but light globes of various shapes and sizes, some plain, others cradled in ornate holders.

  “You shouldn’t have brought me over here,” Jael muttered to Tanis even as she focused her attention hard on the bolts of cloth being sold at the booth nearest her. “What would have happened if—”

  “I know,” Tanis said. “But look over there, the booth right beside it.”

  Cautiously Jael looked. Next to the light-globe seller was another booth, this one selling fine leatherwork. What Tanis wanted her to see, however, was not the finely crafted vests, scabbards, and saddlery on display at the booth, but the three heavy purses hanging from the vendor’s belt.

  “He’s had a good day’s sales,” Tanis murmured. “I watched him earlier, hoping for a chance to get close enough, but he’s smart—stays well back behind those tables and guards his wares like a dragon guards its hoard. But if I could be right there when there was a really spectacular distraction—”

  “Like a whole stall of light globes exploding,” Jael said, understanding.

  “—then in the confusion I could likely get the purses with no one the wiser,” Tanis finished, nodding. “I’ve seen at least three other thieves working this area, and they’re always close by. If there was a good distraction, they’d use it to lighten the marks closest to them, and that would draw attention away from me, too, even if the leather merchant raises an outcry afterward. I think I could get away completely unseen by ducking under the tables, then cutting around the basketweaver’s stall while everyone else was still panicking. When I was a good enough distance away, I could change into the new clothes you bought for me, scrub my face and put on my cap, and nobody would recognize me even if they saw me there. And you wouldn’t have to run, especially if you’d been quietly buying something a goodly distance away from the area. Just to be safest, you could linger in the market a little while longer—buy some of the supplies, maybe, that we’ll need—and I’d meet you back at the inn.”

  Jael thought the plan through and found it sound enough.

  “All right,” she said slowly. “It’s a good plan. But after we’re in place, I’m going to wait until there aren’t many people right in front of the light-globe booth. He’s got the sides and back of the booth draped with cloth to keep the sunlight out so people can see the globes work, but the front’s open, and I don’t want people hurt by flying glass. Besides, it’ll work more to your advantage if the crowd’s around the leather booth instead.”

  “All right,” Tanis said, nodding. “But in that case, we’ll need a signal so I’ll know when to move near the stall; otherwise I’ll start looking suspicious standing around a booth selling expensive wares, and me so poor and grimy. When you’re ready, scratch your left ear, all right, and then count ten before you try.”

  This was sensible. Tanis carefully slipped Jael the purses hidden in his tunic so the coins wouldn’t jingle, and Jael gave him the bundle of his new clothing. As Tanis worked his way leisurely toward the leather vendor, Jael wandered among the nearby stalls, glancing very briefly at the light-globe booth now and then. When she was satisfied that the crowd near the light globes was as thin as it was likely to get, she stopped at a nearby booth selling fried pastries and ordered three fresh pastries, if you please—it was a horrible bother to try to convey her wishes through gestures—tossed her coin on the table, then casually reached up to scratch her ear.

  Jael counted slowly, then turned to stare directly at the light globes, concentrating on them with all her might. Almost immediately she felt the familiar tingling under her breastbone signaling the presence of magic, and she focused on that tingling, luxuriating in it, wanting more—

  Suddenly one of the globes flared bright, then exploded with a loud BANG. Another followed, and another, spraying fragments of glass. A chip of glass stung Jael’s cheek, and she did not have to feign fear as she screamed and dropped to the ground. A bystander shrieked and jumped backward, upsetting the pastry vendor’s table. Hot oil splashed everywhere and a new volley of panicked screams split the air. A few searing droplets of oil spattered Jael’s hand and arm, and several shoppers kicked her in their panic, but Jael only scuttled under the fallen table, her hands pressed protectively over her face as explosion followed explosion at the globe booth. At last there were no further explosions, and Jael dared to glance out between her fingers.

  Thankfully, nobody seemed much hurt by the flying glass; everyone in front of the light-globe stall had had the sense to go to

  ground at the first explosion, many finding cover under tables or behind counters or stacks of goods. As a few bolder people dared to stand again, however, there was considerable confusion. Some bystanders stayed to hurl invectives at the unhappy light-globe vendor, but most simply wanted to leave the area as quickly as they could. Tanis had been right, however; it was quickly discovered that several purses had gone missing during the chaos, including those of the leather merchant.

  Jael quickly brushed herself off and offered the luckless pastry vendor a hand up from the ground, even helping him to right his table.

  “I won’t ask for my coppers back, even though you can see I’m burned by your oil,” Jael said sternly, “but I’m going to stand right here and wait while you heat fresh oil and cook my pastries, do you understand?”

  The poor pastry vendor understood not a word that Jael said, but her peremptory tone and gestures were unmistakable, and he hurriedly heated the oil, giving Jael an extra pastry by way of an apology.

  The sun was setting, and Jael had no desire to try to find her way back to the inn again after dark, so she put off buying supplies for the next day and hurried back to the inn. Tanis was waiting for her in a quiet corner of the public room, a bowl of stew and a tankard of ale in front of him, looking mightily pleased with himself. Jael waited, however, until the innkeeper had brought her her own supper before she asked Tanis if all had went as planned.

  “Couldn’t have been better,” Tanis assured her, keeping his voice low. “I’d wager every copper I’ve ever had that nobody noticed me before or after, and certainly not while glass was flying everywhere. I’ll show you something when we get back to our room.”

  Jael ate her stew, but found she had little appetite for it. Truth to tell, she was beginning to feel vaguely guilty about her part in Tanis’s theft. True, nobody apparently had been much hurt, not even the light-globe vendor, but someone could have been. And the vendor’s entire stock of light globes had been destroyed. The only mage of any note in the city was Rhadaman, so the unfortunate vendor would likely have to ship in a new stock from the east.

  Later, in their room, however, Tanis waved aside Jael’s concern

  “If he has to ship all his globes in from the east, he’d have shipped in plenty more than the two dozen or so you saw in his stall,” Tanis told her. “Go back and look tomorrow, and I’ll wa ger he’s brought out more from storage. Besides, I’ve never seen a law against looking hard at light globes. You never even touched them, and it’s not as though you cast a spell-completely the opposite, really.”

  “I don’t know,” Jael said glumly. “Somehow I don’t think Au
nt Shadow would approve.”

  “You’re right,” Tanis said, nodding. “Shadow wouldn’t have exploded the light globes. She’d have robbed the leather crafter, the light-globe seller, the merchants at the next four booths, and every rich noble in the crowd, too, but she wouldn’t have broken the light globes. But I’m not Shadow, and we poor fumbling hu mans have to do what we can to make a living as a thief. Now do you want to see what I got, or do you really want to sit then and whip yourself raw for helping me get it?”

  Jael sighed, but relented, and Tanis proudly pulled not three but five purses from his sleeve.

  “I got the leather merchant’s purses without any trouble at all,” Tanis told her, “so I grabbed two more on my way out through the crowd. I saw at least four other Guild members tak ing advantage of the ruckus, too. I haven’t counted the coin yet—wanted you to touch the pouches first, just in case there might be trap-spells on them. That merchant was so careful, wouldn’t be surprised.”

  Jael obediently held each of the pouches, felt no tingle of magic, and told Tanis so. They eagerly opened the purses and dumped the coins on the bed between them, gasping at the quan tity of Suns mingling with the coppers and Moons.

  “Well, that’s it,” Tanis said, shaking his head. “I’m not steal ing so much as another copper while we’re here. I don’t know how much the other thieves got, but all this money stolen at once is going to make the merchants very, very careful for a while

  Anyway, we won’t need any more than this, so there’s no need to be greedy.”

  “What about the book?” Jael asked doubtfully. “We still have to steal that. Or at least try to steal it.”

  “We’ll get the book,” Tanis said confidently. “Tomorrow I’ll go to the shop and see what I can learn. We’ll do the actual pickup the night before the boat leaves for Tilwich. By the time the mage opens his shop, we’ll already be gone.”

  The casual tone of Tanis’s voice worried Jael. Rhadaman was obviously a very powerful mage, and powerful mages were not careless people. Rhadaman wouldn’t have a book as dangerous and valuable as the Book of Whispering Serpents sitting openly in his shop unless he believed it was safe there. And the book wouldn’t still be there in his shop after all these years unless it actually was safe there.

  Tanis suggested a taste of Bluebright to celebrate their first joint theft, but Jael declined. She gave Tanis the excuse that it might be unwise to take another dose so soon after the last, and that was true enough. In her heart, however, Jael still wondered if their theft was in fact an accomplishment that should be celebrated. It somehow didn’t feel like something to be proud of.

  Tanis was too pleased with his day’s thefts to be annoyed by Jael’s refusal, and when he curled up beside her, he was quickly asleep. For Jael, however, sleep came less easily, and when she finally dozed off, she dreamed uneasily. The green of the forest closed around her, but it was not the sweet and welcoming forest she’d known. Now the press of leaves, of trees, of innumerable living things around her began to suffocate her, their very living presence an assault. Suddenly the green chaos faded and she sank deep into stone, into welcome silence and darkness lit only by a poignant memory of fire that burned at the heart of the world. That fire flowed through her veins as it had once flowed through the rock, filling her with strength and power, binding her into wholeness—

  Jael jolted awake, almost tumbling out of the bed. Tanis sleepily murmured an apology and pulled back the arm that had dropped across her face. Jael sighed with regret for her lost dream, but there was no calling it back. She rolled over and pillowed her head on Tanis’s shoulder, following him down into quiet, ordinary dreams of familiar places, familiar people. But even in her comfortingly ordinary dreams, a small part of her longed for stone, and fire.

  VII

  “It’s simple,” Tanis repeated. “It could hardly be easier.” Jael frowned at the diagram Tanis had drawn on the square of leather.

  “You’re sure he doesn’t take it into the house?” Jael asked doubtfully. “Why would he leave such a valuable book just sitting openly on a shelf in his shop all the time?”

  “Well, he does,” Tanis said, shrugging. “I took the vial of Bluebright in as near sunset as I could, to be certain I was the last customer in the shop. When he closed the shop after me, I was able to look in the window. He went right through the connecting door between the shop and the house, and I heard the lock click. He didn’t set any protections, not that I saw or heard, and the book was still on the shelf.”

  “When did he say you should come back?” Jael asked.

  “Tomorrow afternoon.” Tanis rolled the piece of hide and slipped it into the sleeve of his tunic. “He said he couldn’t promise that all the ingredients would be available in Zaravelle, but he thought at least he could get a formula for me, and I could have it mixed elsewhere.”

  “How much does he want?” Jael asked him. “I mean, we don’t want to spend all our money, even though I’d dearly love

  to know what Bluebright’s made of, and to be able to get more if I need it.”

  “I talked him down to only two Suns for the formula,” Tanis said with a grin. “Since he’s never seen Bluebright before, if he can mix and sell the stuff, he should be able to make a good profit. If he actually can mix up a batch for us, though, he’ll charge based on the cost of the ingredients.”

  “That’s fair.” Jael sighed. “Tanis, this feels all wrong.”

  “Oh, Jaellyn,” Tanis protested. “You were the one who argued that we had to get this book, remember? I tried to talk you out of it, didn’t I? Why is your conscience bothering you so much now?”

  “I don’t know.” Jael shrugged. “I just can’t imagine any mage leaving a book that precious unprotected in a shop in a city as full of thieves as Zaravelle. None of the mages I know would.”

  “But Rhadaman’s different,” Tanis said patiently. “There are no other real mages in Zaravelle, remember? There probably weren’t any when Duranar came here, either. So Rhadaman’s not used to dealing with people who know much about magical books. Everyone here in the city is dependent on his magic, so why would anyone steal his books? No one would know how to use them; probably no one would even know they were valuable, and who would they sell such a book to, anyway? So Rhadaman’s never had a need to take such precautions.”

  “Yes, but it’s a book about demons,” Jael argued. “A book about summoning and binding demons. Magic just doesn’t get much more potent than that. If he’s not using that magic—and apparently he’s not—then he knows it shouldn’t be used. He knows how dangerous that book is.”

  “If he’s not using it, and he knows it shouldn’t be used, then why hasn’t he destroyed it?” Tanis countered.

  “I don’t know.” Jael shook her head. “Maybe he kept it in case he’d someday need it. Maybe Duranar told him to keep it.”

  “Well, either the book isn’t as valuable as you think, or Rhadaman doesn’t know how valuable it is,” Tanis said exasper-atedly, “or he’s blasted careless. Or there are two books of magic of the same size, with the same silver serpents on the spine. Whatever the reason, have you decided now that it’s worth risking Blade’s anger?”

  Jael shivered. That was one argument she couldn’t refute. No, there was nothing to do but try. Even if they were caught, Jael doubted that the mage could—or would—do anything more terrible to them than what Blade could do. “All right,” Jael said quietly. “What should we do?”

  “Tomorrow I’ll go back just before sunset again and get the formula,” Tanis told her. “This time go with me, and stay outside the door so Rhadaman won’t see you. When he closes the shop, you’ll be close enough to sense if any additional magical protections go up, and we can look again through the window to make sure he didn’t just forget to take the book with him today. You can get another peek at the inside of the shop, too, while he’s busy with me. Tomorrow night we’ll make the final plan, and we’ll make the grab the night after. If you se
nse some kind of spell activating when he closes the shop, then we’ll know we have more to deal with than just a lock. In any event, I’ll let you touch everything first, just in case there’s some kind of ward or trap-spell set.”

  “All right,” Jael said reluctantly. There was no argument she could make. Despite Tanis’s seeming overconfidence, he was being reasonably cautious.

  Unlike the night before, tonight Tanis was annoyed when Jael again declined to take any Bluebright, and her excuse, that they had no way to be certain Rhadaman would be able to replenish their supply, sounded thin even to her. She reassured Tanis that if they were able to get a further supply of Bluebright from Rhadaman, she could afford to be less miserly with the potent stuff, and that was true enough. Jael thought to herself, however, that knowing what ingredients formed the mysterious liquid and what effects the Bluebright might have on her would be far more reassuring than even an endless supply.

  Tanis was still sulking when they went to bed, but he was not too angry to let Jael curl up beside him, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her. His heart was beating rather more rapidly than usual, and Jael could well imagine why he was annoyed with her refusal. Gods, desire was an unhandy sort of thing that turned people’s lives as awry as her incomplete soul did hers, and seemed to cause every bit as many disasters. Maybe she wasn’t entirely unfortunate after all. How did people like Aunt Shadow, who always seemed to be looking for her next tumble, ever manage to get anything done?

  Jael grimaced.

  That sounds like the elf whose arrow missed the stag, and who told his clan the beast would’ve been thin and tough anyway, she thought. Aunt Shadow would say that if you don’t enjoy today, what’s the use in tomorrow? Mother would disagree, but Mother’s always worried or angry, and Aunt Shadow’s always laughing. No wonder Tanis is annoyed. I worry as much as the High Lady of Allanmere, and he certainly isn’t as patient as Father—as Argent.