by Kyra Halland
Coltor took a sheet of paper and a pen and uncapped a silver inkwell, then wrote out the details of the agreement: Silas Vendine, assisted by his wife Lainie Banfrey Vendine, would find the child named Shayla and remove her unharmed from the custody of those who had taken her. All necessary gifts, ransoms, and bribes were to be paid by Silas from the funds he was paid in advance. Upon Shayla’s safe return to the BC Crown Ranch, Coltor would repay whatever had been paid to the kidnappers for her release along with the balance of the promised fee, for a total of two thousand gildings.
Silas read the contract closely, looking for ambiguities that Coltor could exploit. He noted the lack of mention that Shayla was Coltor’s daughter. Whether because the child was illegitimate, or because he feared she would be kidnapped for ransom, or both, Coltor seemed determined to hide the fact that he had a daughter. Which was his business; Silas wouldn’t argue with that.
Something else was missing from the contract, as well. “What if we can’t find her?” Silas asked.
“You’ll find her.”
Coltor’s response allowed for no further discussion. Silas let it drop; no doubt the lawyer could handle the question better than he could. He handed the contract to Lainie.
She spent quite a while reading it, then handed it back to Silas with a shrug. “It looks okay to me.” She reached out towards the wishcatcher on Coltor’s desk. “Can we take that with us? In case any A’ayimat recognize it and can tell us who made it?”
“Go right ahead.”
Lainie carefully took the delicate construction in one hand and looked at it, turning it around to see all sides of it. Silas watched her, wondering if her Wildings-influenced power allowed her to sense whether it really did contain a wish or a spell.
“Meet me at Miss Tennir’s office tomorrow morning at nine o’clock,” Coltor said. “We’ll sign this, and I’ll give you your advance payment.” He reached across the desk and shook Silas’s hand, then tossed back the rest of his drink. Silas did the same thing, his insides glowing as the whiskey hit his stomach. Lainie took another sip of her drink, and smothered another fit of coughing.
“Nine o’clock,” Silas said, then Storts escorted him and Lainie from the office.
Chapter 4
LAINIE HAD ABOUT a hundred thoughts running through her mind when she and Silas stepped out of the office building into the cold night. She was still mad about being cheated out of her win at the card game, and the embarrassment of being accused of cheating in front of everyone in Dirty Deke’s still burned inside her. But those matters were overshadowed by Mr. Coltor’s job offer and all the questions it raised.
As they walked in silence down the street and around the corner to the hotel, Silas kept his hands jammed into his duster pockets, and his face was drawn in hard thought. Lainie was dying to ask his opinion about the whole thing, but out here on the street, when Coltor probably owned the whole town and everyone in it, was not the place to talk about it.
In the hotel lobby, a clerk was dozing with his feet up on the desk and his hat pulled down over his face. Even though this was the cheapest hotel in Bentwood Gulch, it was still leagues nicer than the hotel in Ripgap. Everything was neat and clean and shiny, the chairs had fancy padded seats, and the walls were decorated with nice framed paintings of mountains, animals, and flowers. Without disturbing the clerk, they climbed the stairs to their room, where they had left their belongings earlier, and Silas unlocked the door.
As soon as they were inside, he locked the door again while Lainie lit one of the oil lamps. “What do you think, darlin’?” he asked as he shed his coat and started unbuckling his gunbelt.
“He’s lying.” Lainie took off her hat and duster. “He knows perfectly damn well who took his daughter and why they took her. And he’s a mage.”
“Yep. And I’d lay money he knows we’re mages, too, and that’s why he wants us for this job. But he sure as all the hells wasn’t going to say so.”
Silas started undressing, and Lainie did the same. “I wonder if he doesn’t want us to know that or if he just didn’t want to say so in front of Storts,” she said. “Every rancher needs a man he can trust with anything, like my Pa trusts Mr. Dobay. But telling someone you’re a mage, that’s a mighty big thing to trust anyone with.” Silas had trusted her with that knowledge not long after they met, she remembered. It was like each of them had been made especially for the other person to trust.
“Even if Storts wasn’t there, I don’t think Coltor would have told us. He didn’t want to tell us much of anything else, not even what the girl’s mother looks like.” Silas pulled off his shirt. “Were you able to find out anything about that wishcatcher?”
Lainie tore her attention away from the lean, hard muscles of his chest and stomach. She reached for her duster, draped over the back of a chair, and took the fragile construction of pinecone, beads, and feathers out of the pocket. It was strange how, as she examined the wishcatcher with her mage senses, she could feel the spell it contained and know what it was, not with words or pictures in her mind or anything so obvious, but with an understanding of its intent. “There really is a wish in it.”
“What is it?”
Heat rose in her cheeks. Even after all these months of being married to him, some things were still too embarrassing to mention. “It’s for Mr. Coltor’s, um, manly parts to shrivel up and fall off.”
“Ah.” Silas paused in unbuttoning his pants. “Listen, darlin’, would you do me a favor and keep that thing far, far away from me?”
He sounded really worried. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, though she smiled as she carefully tucked the wishcatcher into a side pocket of her knapsack. “Don’t worry. It’s particularly meant for Mr. Coltor.”
“That’s pretty personal.”
“Yeah. There must be some awful bad blood between him and whoever left it. I don’t see how he couldn’t know about that.”
“Me either. It just doesn’t sit right with me that someone who knows as much as Coltor does would have no idea who kidnapped his daughter or why.”
Lainie perched on the edge of the bed in her camisole and drawers. Early winter this far north was as cold as mid-winter in the Bitterbush Valley, but the room had a chimney from downstairs running up through one corner, that radiated warmth into the room. It felt lovely to be able to undress without freezing to death.
Silas, likewise stripped down to his drawers, sat beside her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a good, long, deep kiss, and she fell back beneath him onto the soft mattress.
“So.” He propped himself above her on his elbows. “Should we do it?”
“Do what?” she replied breathlessly. The warmth and solid weight of his body, the feel of his skin against hers, the wicked gleam in his eyes, scattered all her thoughts away.
“The job, darlin’.” His eyes narrowed as he grinned down at her. “What did you think I meant?”
“What you usually mean when you ask me that.”
He laughed a little. “Well, that too. But what about the job? We haven’t signed anything yet. Do we go ahead with this even though we know Coltor isn’t telling us everything?”
She struggled to think straight. Having him so close to her like this wasn’t making it easy. But this was important, and although the answer seemed clear to her, it wasn’t a simple matter and she wanted to make sure she considered it carefully. “We sure could use the money. And we can’t just leave that little girl with the blueskins. I don’t think they would really hurt her, not from what I’ve seen of them, but you never know, and anyhow, she must be scared and missing her Pa.”
“So you think we should take the job.”
She nodded. “Yeah. But if it turns out to be something different from what he told us, we get out.”
“Sounds good to me.” He covered her mouth with his and started tugging her camisole up.
* * *
LAINIE LAY CURLED up in Silas’s arms, her head on his chest and her legs
tangled up with his. She felt warm and comfortable and content except for being a little hungry; eager to try out the big, soft bed, they hadn’t even thought about supper. But she didn’t feel like eating yet; a thought had come into her mind, nagging at her. She almost never brought up the subject, as it was painful to speak of and she didn’t want Silas to feel bad, since it wasn’t his fault, or worry that she would leave him over it. But her new idea wouldn’t leave her alone.
“Silas?”
“Hm?” he mumbled sleepily.
“Mr. Coltor’s a mage, and he has a daughter –”
“He must have been married back in Granadaia.”
“Oh.” A perfectly simple explanation, and not what she had wanted to hear. “I thought maybe there was a way to remove the block without the Mage Council.”
“Not that anyone’s ever found. Or at least, not that doesn’t do more damage in the process.”
“Oh.”
Silas wrapped his arms tightly around her. “Oh, darlin’, you know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you if I could.”
Her throat choked up and tears swelled in her eyes. “I know.”
At one time, she had thought that if they were really good mage hunters, if they stopped an especially dangerous rogue mage or something, they would be able to prove that they weren’t really renegades, they were good people who were just doing things a little differently, and the Mage Council wouldn’t care that Silas had married her without their permission and that he was teaching her himself instead of making her go to school in Granadaia. And then she and Silas could get their marriage approved and have his fertility block lifted. But now the Mage Council or someone on it had sent an assassin out after Silas, and those same people probably knew that she could suppress another mage’s power, which was supposed to be impossible and, just in case anyone ever did figure out how to do it, was also against the law. So the chances of her dream coming true were just about zero.
Not that it mattered right now, anyhow. Whether they had a baby of their own or found an orphan to adopt, living the way they were, broke and on the run, in danger from other mages and Plain folk alike, was no way to bring up a child.
She mustn’t give up hope, she told herself, blinking back her tears. Someday, somehow, things would change. The people on the Mage Council might change their minds, or new people with new ideas would come onto the Council, and the rules would change and she and Silas wouldn’t be outlaws any more. The same with the Plain people of the Wildings; someday they would see that not all mages were wicked and hateful, and would learn to live with them instead of wanting to hang them just for being mages. And the chances of that day coming about were best if she and Silas worked hard to bring it about and never gave up hope.
* * *
SILAS AND LAINIE arrived at Miss Tennir’s office just before nine o’clock the next morning. The door to the office was standing open, and Lainie peered through the doorway to see a woman with vibrant blonde hair done up in an elegant knot sitting behind a large desk.
Silas knocked on the doorframe. The woman looked up from the papers on her desk and adjusted her round, gold-rimmed spectacles. “Mr. Vendine. Mrs. Vendine,” she said briskly. “Please come in and have a seat.”
They entered the office and sat down across the desk from Miss Tennir. The furniture wasn’t as gleaming and richly-carved as the furniture in Mr. Coltor’s office, but Lainie could see and feel its good, solid quality. A large framed certificate hanging on the wall proclaimed in fancy letters that Miss Brinna Tennir was duly authorized to practice law in Granadaia and in all associated locales, businesses, and capacities. It was dated three years ago. Miss Tennir herself, beneath the spectacles and her neat white shirtwaist and dark blue skirt, had the face and figure of a high-priced house lady. She was both the most beautiful and the most accomplished woman Lainie had ever met, and Lainie suddenly felt uncomfortably aware of her own ragged clothes and country-girl ways.
“Mr. Coltor had some business to attend to first, but he’ll be along shortly,” Miss Tennir said. “In the meantime, I’ve been going over the contract. I know you read it last night, but I’d like you to look at it again, to make sure nothing has been changed.”
Silas and Lainie read the contract and the copy Miss Tennir had written out. “That’s how it was last night,” Silas said. Lainie was happy to let him speak for her; she had no idea of the proper way to talk or the right things to say in a situation like this.
“Good,” the lawyer said. “Now, there are just a few things I want to go over with you before the signing. Were you married by license or by witnesses?”
“Witnesses,” Silas said.
“Can you give me their names and places of residence?”
That was easy enough to answer. Lainie told her the names of Wik and Mr. Dobay and her Pa, and that they all lived at the Double B Ranch in Bitterbush Springs. Miss Tennir wrote that all down on the back of the contract and then again on the copy.
“Also,” Miss Tennir said, “I want to make sure you understand that, since you are married, you are both equally and fully responsible for carrying out your obligations under this contract. Should Mr. Vendine be unable to fulfill it, Mrs. Vendine will still be obliged to meet the conditions. And the other way around. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lainie said.
“I understand,” Silas added. “And if Coltor is unable to fulfill his side of the contract, who’ll do it for him?”
“Mr. Stortsden and I are in charge of Mr. Coltor’s affairs,” Miss Tennir answered. She looked at the gold watch that hung from a short, delicate chain pinned to the waistband of her skirt. “They should be here in a few minutes.”
While Silas and Lainie waited, Lainie watched Miss Tennir sort through the papers on her desk. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her shyness. “Ma’am?”
Miss Tennir looked up. “Yes?”
“I’m just curious. How did you get to be a lawyer?”
“I was Mr. Coltor’s mistress a number of years ago.” Miss Tennir’s forthrightness took Lainie by surprise; the lawyer must have noticed, for she went on, “It’s the truth, and it’s a large part of what made me who I am today, so I see no sense in denying it. I didn’t want to continue living that way; I wanted to build my life on a more solid financial and moral foundation. Mr. Coltor wasn’t free to marry me, so he sent me to study law with an attorney in Granadaia for four years. He has some sort of privileged status there, which allows him access to opportunities that are denied to most Plains. Life in Granadaia didn’t suit me, so when I finished my training I came back here.” She smiled slightly. “Don’t worry. My previous relationship with Mr. Coltor and the fact that he arranged for my education do not prejudice me in favor of him, as anyone in town can tell you. In fact, I am engaged to Mr. Oferdon, the bookkeeper across the hall. Who should be along in time to be the third witness to this contract. Unless his stomach is bothering him again; the poor dear has a nervous digestion.”
“That must have been exciting, to go to Granadaia and study,” Lainie said. She had refused to go to magic school in Granadaia, but this was different. This wasn’t being twisted into someone who had no heart, no feelings, who could turn against their family and abandon everything they were supposed to care about like her grandmother had. “I’ve got a six-year certificate from the Bitterbush Springs Town School, but that’s nothing compared to being a lawyer.”
Miss Tennir smiled again, a bright, kind smile that set Lainie more at ease. “It’s still something to be proud of. And how much education you have is less important than the good you do with it.”
Mr. Coltor came into the office then, with Storts in tow. He and Miss Tennir greeted each other politely – they would have made a handsome couple, Lainie thought – then he seated himself while Storts stood behind his chair, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings.
“Does anyone have any questions about the contract?” Miss Tennir asked.
“What
if we can’t find the little girl?” Silas asked.
“You’ll find her,” Coltor said just as stubbornly as he had the night before. The two men glared at each other.
Miss Tennir picked up her pen. “Allow me to make a suggestion, gentlemen. Let’s say that after four months, if Mr. and Mrs. Vendine return with proof that they’ve made a good-faith effort to find Shayla without being able to discover any information as to her whereabouts, they will be allowed to keep the money they’ve already been paid but no more will be owed to them, and the contract between you will be at an end.”
Lainie thought that sounded fair, and Silas said, “I’ll agree to that.”
Coltor’s face darkened and he frowned beneath his thick mustache. “Fine,” he growled.
Miss Tennir wrote that down at the end of the contract, then copied what she’d written onto the duplicate. She slid the two papers across the desk. “Read this over and sign both copies.”
Coltor read the two copies of the contract and signed them, then Silas and Lainie did the same thing. As she signed her name, Lainie used the name-slip charm Silas had taught her, to make it hard for anyone reading her name to remember it. Taking care to not make the gesture too obvious, she touched her name where it was already written in the contracts and put the charm there, as well. Silas, she knew, had done the same thing. Name-slip charms weren’t completely effective, but they did help to blur your trail somewhat, and Silas said they were easier than trying to keep track of a lot of fake names.
Miss Tennir and Storts – Emul Stortsden, Lainie saw, looking on – added their signatures as witnesses. Then a man with small round spectacles and a wisp of a mustache stuck his head in through the doorway. “Good morning, my dear. I just wanted to let you know I’m here.”
