Thief of Lives

by Barb Hendee

  An entryway guard gave him an appraising look but no more. Entering the dining chamber, Leesil watched lavish trays of seafood and roasted birds sweep by in the servers' hands, and he realized even his winnings might not cover the price of a meal. Several polished stools by the room's bar were empty, so he perched to watch the people as he sipped his wine.

  Then she walked in.

  Leesil was certainly light-headed now, but his vision was still clear, and the flash of lavender silk burst through the archway without warning. He spared little attention for rich, useless women, and only Magiere filled his heart, but he couldn't help staring.

  The low-cut neckline exposed mounds of creamy, pale bosom pushing up from a tight bodice. Ringlets of perfectly curled hair hung across her shoulders and back, and her neck and fingers shimmered in jewels. Like the game room, she was an infectious sight. With eagerness in her eyes, she looked about. Then she noticed his attention and smiled.

  Leesil grew mildly uncomfortable. He returned a polite smile and spun around to face the bar. As light steps approached from behind, she floated up beside him.

  "Have we met before, sir?" she said. Her gazed moved almost hungrily over his face. "You look very familiar to me."

  He raised one eyebrow. "I don't think so. I believe I would remember you, miss."

  "Was that a compliment?" She tilted her head slightly. "May I join you? I'm without an escort at the moment and would be so much more at ease in good company."

  His guarded surprise increased but so did his reluctance. He didn't wish to encourage her. Neither did he wish to be rude and attract further attention.

  "Please," he said finally, and gestured to the stool on his far side.

  "Wouldn't this be more splendid?" She raised one hand toward an empty table nearby with a coy drop of her lashes.

  As Leesil stood up, he noticed her eyes resting on his half-open shirt, across his collarbone and chest. Again, he wondered how to politely escape the situation as they settled at the table.

  "I'm Sapphire," she said, with a touch of fingertips to her throat.

  "Leesil," he replied.

  "Are you just visiting Bela?" she asked.

  "Yes, on business," he answered shortly. After a moment's silence, he cleared his throat. "And you?"

  "Oh, no. I have a lovely three-story home in the city. For anyone interested in real society, I think Bela is the only place to live."

  He nodded politely.

  "Your eyes—so unusual," she said. "Where are you from?"

  "I don't know." He hesitated, then added, "My mother was elven."

  "An elf?" she replied with interest. "Ah, but I think your father was human, yes? You're half-elven?"

  "Yes," he answered flatly. "I'm a half-blood."

  "Oh, I didn't mean that. It's just… I've heard elves live a very long time. That their life force is much stronger than humans. Is that true?"

  For the first time, he smiled. "Where'd you hear such a thing?"

  She laughed, but it was forced, as if she were embarrassed by her own bluntness. "If all half-elves look like you, I should be glad to meet more of them."

  The second those words left her mouth, Leesil tensed in his chair.

  "Well, thank you," he said. "But if you're a wealthy man's daughter or wife looking for a unique diversion, I don't think I'm your man."

  He stood up, took his goblet, walked toward the game room, and didn't bother looking back to see her expression.

  The game room was hectic, but it didn't take long to find a seat at an empty table. He settled to sip his wine and watch the faro game.

  Another flash of lavender caught his eye. Sapphire had followed him.

  He began to stand, but she stopped him with a delicate hand on his shoulder. Before he could blink, she pressed him back into his chair and settled sleekly into his lap.

  "I just wanted to know you better." Sapphire said Looking down at him, she made a show of stretching her torso upright as she brushed her hair back.

  Now it was his turn to stare at her—or whatever ample features hung right before his eyes.

  Magiere sat on the bed's edge, ignoring the bowl of mutton stew on the bedside table. Chap shoved his nose into her hand, and she petted his head a few times, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

  "Was I too hard on him?" she said.

  Chap sat down with a low whine, eyes intent.

  "Just when I think he's improving, he gets drunk and loses our money, and then he's too cowardly to admit it." Throwing up her hands in disgust, she looked at Chap, wishing he could speak. "You make more sense than he does."

  Chap trotted to the door, scratched at it, and looked back at her.

  "You have to go out… now?"

  He woofed once, tail swishing.

  "Fine," she muttered. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

  Taking Chap out to do his after-meal business was now Magiere's high point for the day. It wasn't enough that they'd gotten nowhere with their search. Now Leesil was playing some idiotic gallant, offering up his… blood… as if she'd ever again let that happen. What was the fool thinking? Out of habit more than need, she snatched up her falchion, preparing to strap it on as she opened the door. Before she could finish, Chap bolted out and down the stairs.

  "Chap, stop," she shouted, rushing after the hound, but he quickly left her behind.

  Loud exclamations came from below in the common room, followed by a raucous clatter and a string of curses in a high-pitched voice.

  When Magiere descended, she looked about for the dog. The common room was empty, except for one old man still smoking by the front door, who now stared wide-eyed toward the bar. She followed the gaze, noticed the curtained doorway behind the bar that most likely led to the kitchen, and her eyes narrowed.

  "Chap, you glutton!"

  She headed for the kitchen, intending to chase the hound down, but then slid to a stop.

  Sticking out along the floor from the bar's end was a small booted foot with an overturned tankard stuck on the toe. Magiere peeked around the corner.

  There sat—or rather sprawled—young Vatz, an overturned bowl in his lap and a pile of scraps, garbage, and leavings all over him and the floor. He looked up at Magiere with an egg-boiling heat in his little face.

  "Oh, Vatz… no," she said. "I'll get him out of the kitchen. And I promise, when I'm done with that mongrel, this will never happen again."

  She was about to step over him when he growled, "No!"

  Vatz looked down at the mess of himself and back up to Magiere. Mouth open, he heaved a couple of exasperated gasps in place of whatever words he couldn't get out, and then stabbed a finger toward the inn's front door.

  Magiere frowned and then cringed. Vatz must have been on his way out with the garbage when Chap had bolted through.

  "I see," she said, reaching down to help the boy up. "He… he must have really needed out."

  Vatz swatted her hands aside, letting out an incomprehensible series of grunts and exclamations, and then violently waved her off toward the door.

  "Yes, well, again, I'm sorry about this," Magiere stammered, and twisted about, muttering under her breath, "Chap, you're going to be pig's slop when I'm done with you."

  Strapping on her falchion, Magiere opened the door and stepped outside.

  There sat Chap in the middle of the street, staring at her, wide-eyed and ears perked.

  "You!" Magiere snapped, lunging at the hound to snatch him by the scruff.

  Chap darted away up the street, turned about, and sat down to look at her again. Magiere glared at him, dumbfounded.

  "The alley—that way!" She pointed around the side of the inn. "Now get. And you'd better hope I don't leave you out all night."

  Chap's tail slowly swept the cobblestones. He barked twice at her, wheeled about for two more hops up the street, and sat to stare at her again.

  "What is wrong with you?" It took Magiere a puzzled moment to realize what the hound was up to. "N
o! No Leesil. Now get."

  She pointed toward the alley again. Chap was immediately up on all fours, barking continuously, hopping about and turning circles.

  "Quiet. Stop that." She took two steps toward him, but Chap again spun farther up the road. "I'm not going after your sot of a master. Now quiet." With that she threw up her hands in disgust and turned to go back inside. "You can stay out here the rest of the night."

  When she reached for the door's latch, her fingertips barely touched it as a strange tingle ran up her spine.

  Leesil? She held an image of him in mind, seated at his faro table, watching her behind the Sea Lion's bar as if she weren't aware of him.

  Magiere looked back over her shoulder, as if expecting to see him. There was no one there but Chap.

  Had she been too hard on Leesil? He was an irresponsible dolt, and had no idea what he was really saying this evening. But was it asking too much to let him have his way just a little? It hadn't been that long since they'd left the game, and, in his own way, he was doing his best—wasn't he? It hadn't been his idea to quit and settle, and she certainly hadn't given him much choice.

  Magiere's hand hung near the door latch. She looked back at Chap waiting in the street.

  "Stay," she said, and pushed the door open.

  Inside, Milous was helping Vatz clean up. He gave her a disgusted glower.

  "Did my partner tell you where he was going?" Magiere asked.

  "He wanted someplace special," the stout innkeeper answered. "So I told him to go to the Rowanwood. Any coachman in the city can take you there."

  Magiere sighed. Leave it to Leesil to choose someplace they couldn't afford.

  "Thank you," she said, and stepped back out.

  Chap now sat so close behind it startled Magiere.

  "I told you to stay." She stepped into the street with the hound pacing beside her. "You get more like your master every day. I'd better find him, before he cheats his way into a cell at Chetnik's barracks."

  She walked up the street until spotting a passing coach. Hailing it, she gave the coachman her destination while Chap climbed in and stretched across one of the seats. The ride wasn't long, and soon the coach came to a halt as the driver called out "The Rowanwood!" Magiere paid him and looked up with mounting apprehension at the elegant inn.

  Richly dressed patrons walked in and out, and here she stood in breeches, high boots, and a leather vest. She decided to just go in, pull Leesil out—and, maybe, see if he wanted go someplace a little more suitable.

  "Come on," she said to Chap. "But I don't think they'll want a dog in this place."

  A woman in a cream lace gown looked at them in shock as they walked through the front doors. A few other heads turned as well. Magiere began doubting her decision and wondered if she shouldn't quickly leave. A tall man approached her, wide shoulders filling up his white shirt and embroidered vestment.

  "May I help you?"

  "I'm searching for a friend," she explained. "Soon as I find him, we'll be on our way."

  The guard nodded politely. "You'll need to leave your sword with me. Food is served in the chamber to the left. Gaming is on the right. Rooms are also available, and you can ask any of the staff to assist you."

  Magiere felt her stomach turn hollow.

  "You have a gaming room?"

  "Yes, miss," the house guard replied. "Your sword?"

  A faro table was one thing, but a whole room of chance? The thought of Leesil in there was too much for her. She unstrapped her blade and handed it to the guard, and suddenly Chap growled.

  "We try to be accommodating," the guard added sternly. "But you will keep your animal under control or leave immediately."

  Chap inched toward the archway to the game room. A low rumble began in his throat and slowly grew to an eerie high-pitched whine. Several nearby patrons stepped away in alarm. It was a familiar sound, and Magiere's attention fixed on the archway.

  She looked down to her chest. The topaz amulet glowed brightly.

  "You've got bigger problems than the dog," she said, and turned to Chap. "Go!"

  Chap lunged into the archway as Magiere followed. She scanned the room for Leesil but couldn't find him, and a bright spot of color grabbed her eye—the back of a shapely woman in a lavender silk gown sitting in a man's lap. Dark-blond ringlets fell down past her shoulders.

  Chap let out a series of savage, snapping barks that startled even Magiere.

  And the room burst into turmoil.

  The nearest patrons rushed, lunged, stumbled, and fell over one another and their chairs while trying to get away from the animal. A dice table overturned. Two men in vestments rushed forward to help patrons, all the while keeping their attention on Magiere and Chap. At the commotion, the blond-haired woman looked back, shifting in the man's lap and exposing him to view.

  Leesil? Magiere mouthed, but no sound came out.

  He sat alone, except for the woman he held, with a stack of coins on the table next to a large pewter goblet.

  Chap's attention was fixed directly on Leesil's companion.

  Magiere snatched the edge of a table in her way and jerked it over and aside. Leesil looked at the woman atop him with a strangely baffled and annoyed expression, and then he caught sight of Magiere.

  He took a deep breath, amber eyes widening, and his tan complexion appeared to pale.

  As Sapphire nestled onto his lap, Leesil had no idea how to respond. The rustling silk and the plump mounds of her breasts filling his view put him at a momentary loss. Blinking, he looked up at her with what he hoped was adequate annoyance. He grabbed her upper arms and was about to hoist her off when he noticed her eyes. He hadn't looked at them closely before.

  They were bright blue, her pale face framed by long curls of dark-blond hair. There was something familiar about her, as if he'd seen her once before. Then came a strange, unnatural howl more familiar than the woman's face, and people began shouting.

  Patrons clamored and shoved their way toward the room's back. Tables, chairs, and bodies toppled one over the other. Two house guards waded in, trying to disentangle bodies from furniture. But everyone's attention was fixed toward the bestial sounds coming from the archway. His uninvited companion turned in his lap as well, opening his view.

  There stood an enraged Chap.

  And Magiere.

  He was in a gaming room. He was drinking. He had a silk-clad blond in his lap with her chest in his face. Magiere's infuriated expression sent a numbing chill through Leesil that sank through to the seat of his breeches.

  There wasn't anything that could save him from Magiere long enough to explain all of this.

  Chap snarled, inching into the room, and Leesil tensed in alarm. The reasons for Magiere's ire were plain enough, but what had gotten into Chap?

  Magiere looked at Sapphire, and Leesil had a moment's concern over what Magiere might do to the woman. Grabbing a table in her way, Magiere slung it aside, and Leesil winced, trying to figure out how to get both himself and Sapphire out of harm's way until Magiere calmed down. Then he saw the topaz amulet in the room's softer lamplight.

  It glowed. His eyes rolled up to Sapphire once again.

  Dark-blond ringlets. Bright blue eyes—like gemstones. Pretty and eager. With smooth, pallid skin. Like Magiere's.

  Leesil stiffened, a coin's toss between mortified and horrified, and choked back a curse before it could escape. The slim chance of explaining anything to Magiere faded. He'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again, if he lived through this.

  His right hand dropped slowly to his side, and he flicked the sheath strap to slip a stiletto into his hand.

  Sapphire's hand clamped around his throat, nails biting into his skin.

  "Try that and you're dead," she hissed without looking at him. Her attention was on Magiere, confusion in her voice as she spoke. "Hold that dog off, or this one dies!"

  Magiere stopped. "Let him go, or you won't reach the door."

  The two guards in the
room stood still and uncertain. Leesil spotted a third poised in the entryway behind Magiere, eyes shifting, as if wondering whom to deal with first. Such a disturbance was probably rare in a place like the Rowanwood, and they clearly had no wish for a patron to be killed inside the establishment. But they also appeared more anxious over Chap than the sight of Sapphire's fingers on his throat.

  In one movement, Sapphire slipped out of his lap and spun around, pulling Leesil to his feet with his back toward Magiere and Chap. She retreated toward a side exit used by the staff.

  Leesil still believed he could remove her fingers with little damage to himself, but there were too many people inside the game room. She might simply grab someone else. He decided to let her to pull him outside.

  Chap raged somewhere behind him, and he wondered what Magiere might do next.

  Sapphire pulled him through the side door into a narrow, plain passage and kicked the door shut behind them. Her fingers tightened as she backed hastily toward the hallway's end and another door.

  "Now, I'll never be able to come here. And this is my favorite place," she hissed, pulling him along. "You might have mentioned you were married, but your kind rarely does on an evening out. Maybe she won't even care if I rip you apart."

  Leesil couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only was she completely vapid if she thought Magiere was some enraged wife, but her main concern was that she'd not be able to patronize the Rowanwood again. When Magiere caught up to them, this idiot corpse had a few surprises coming. How had such a creature survived on her own?

  He still gripped the hilt of a stiletto in his right hand, the blade up his sleeve. Sapphire had been so preoccupied she hadn't told him to drop it. The blade wouldn't kill her, but perhaps he could get free at the right moment.

  A young house guard stepped from a side door down the passage, blocking Sapphire's way. He looked uncomfortable, as if he should be asking Leesil to release the woman and not the other way around.

  "Miss, please, we can't have this sort of thing here. Let the man go."

  Sapphire's head twisted so sharply toward the guard that Leesil was unprepared.