Magic Lost,Trouble Found

by Lisa Shearin

  Ocnus was still alive and walking around the city because certain people found him useful. Like now. Those same people had also allowed him to live because it would be difficult to explain to the city watch that they’d killed Ocnus just because he was annoying. While the watch all knew Ocnus and would understand the reason, the law wouldn’t let them approve of it.

  “Spending the Mal’Salin gold you earned last night?” I asked.

  “Last night was just business, nothing personal.”

  “Piaras Rivalin was beaten and we were both kidnapped.” I stepped in closer to Ocnus than I wanted to be. For people like him, intimidation and proximity went hand in hand. It was crude, but it worked. “Last night was everything personal.”

  Ocnus managed to shake his head. “You don’t understand.”

  “I think I do. Word has it that Sarad Nukpana is looking for you.”

  Ocnus tried a smile, but it just came off looking queasy. “He gave me the night off.”

  Phaelan sighed regretfully, though I knew he didn’t regret one thing he was prepared to do. “Ocnus, you really need to work on your lying. You’ve been here less than an hour, and you’ve finished off five pints all by yourself. Even one of your guard dogs was hard pressed to keep pace.”

  The pudgy sorcerer looked around wildly.

  “They found something else to do,” I told him. “You might see them later.”

  “I think you’re having a bad night,” Phaelan surmised, “and you’re trying to drink yourself into a better one. It doesn’t work that way. Trust me, I know.”

  “I don’t think you have the night off,” I told Ocnus. “I think you’ve run away from home.”

  Phaelan adjusted his grip. “You running away from home, Ocnus?”

  The sorcerer squirmed a little and squeaked.

  “I think that’s a ‘yes’,” I said.

  “Your Mal’Salin friends wouldn’t get within a mile of this dump,” Phaelan said. “We think that’s why you’re here. You must have done something extra naughty to put an entire city between you. Care to share with us?”

  I leaned in close. “I’ll settle for where the Saghred is. Since Chigaru Mal’Salin already paid you the fifty tenari you were going to charge me, I’ll just take the information.”

  Ocnus’s eyes flickered to my chest. He suspected the beacon was there, at least that’s what I told myself. If I let myself think otherwise, Ocnus wouldn’t be in any condition to tell me anything. One of my fists flexed involuntarily. Then again he didn’t need all his teeth to talk.

  “The Saghred has always belonged to the Mal’Salins,” Ocnus managed. Phaelan hadn’t lightened the pressure on his neck, but I could hear a faint note of smugness. The smugness of someone pleased with a job well done.

  “Which one? King Sathrik or Prince Chigaru?”

  Ocnus squirmed some more.

  “Yeah, I thought so. That has to be a problem for you, especially considering that the king brought Sarad Nukpana along on his little goodwill trip. Psychos don’t have much of a sense of humor when it comes to being double-crossed.”

  “Professionally speaking, there’s nothing wrong with having two clients vying for the same prize,” Phaelan noted. “But it’s risky, and takes a certain level of skill to get away with their money and your life. Ocnus here just isn’t that gifted.”

  I narrowed my eyes and twisted the corner of my mouth into what I’d been told was a smile that promised many bad things. Considering the anger I had bubbling just beneath the surface, I didn’t have to try very hard to look mean. I slowly drew my favorite dagger for good measure. It was thin and slightly curved. Ocnus had heard what I had done with it last year. Little of it was actually true. When it came to maintaining a reputation, facts were fleeting, but you could ride a rumor for years. It wasn’t facts that had Ocnus shaking in his puddle.

  “And I don’t think you’re much of a risk taker,” I said, fighting back several violent urges. Phaelan looked similarly challenged. “I think you know where the Saghred is. So does Sarad Nukpana. You can tell us here, or we can go somewhere quiet and we’ll ask you again, and we’ll keep asking until you tell us. It’s entirely up to you.”

  “Nukpana won’t allow this,” Ocnus squeaked around Phaelan’s arm.

  Phaelan chuckled. “You actually want him to know? You’re crazier than he is. If you don’t tell her everything, either I’ll kill you, or she can put that filleting knife of hers to good use. And as long as we have you, Nukpana will think you talked. Either way, your night’s going to go from bad to worse unless you tell us where the Saghred is.”

  Ocnus’s ferret eyes darted to me. There was a crack in his bravado, but I could tell it wasn’t ready to open. Not yet. I was tired of standing in a stinking alley, and I knew just the thing to turn that crack into a chasm.

  I had no intention of using the knife, so I put it away. But I kept the smile. I knew just the thing to get Ocnus into a conversational mood. Ocnus worked for the Mal’Salin family, but he also feared them, with plenty of good reasons. The royal family’s closets were packed with skeletons, but one skeleton in particular pushed Ocnus’s panic button.

  My grin broadened. Not all Mal’Salins were in the Goblin District tonight, and one of them owed me big time.

  “Ocnus, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Tam just looked at me. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Sarad Nukpana wants the Saghred. I want my life back. Ocnus knows where the Saghred is. Need I say more?”

  We were in the storeroom at Sirens. Phaelan was back on the Fortune. After delivering Ocnus into Tam’s clutches, he considered his work with me for the evening done. Chivalry wasn’t dead, but sometimes when it got around Phaelan it took a nap.

  Mychael Eiliesor was in the next room. Since the plan was to let Ocnus go after we had the information we wanted, the Guardian chose to lie low. Ocnus hadn’t seen him, and Eiliesor wanted to keep it that way. Mainly he didn’t want Ocnus running around with the knowledge that at this moment, Mermeia was positively teaming with Guardians who were after the same thing as the Mal’Salin family and Sarad Nukpana.

  I knew Tam kept a spell around the storeroom to make it soundproof. I suspected it was used as an interrogation room almost as often as it stored glasses and tablecloths, but I really didn’t want to know the details. Ocnus was inside the room and couldn’t hear us.

  “You set me up,” Tam accused.

  There was a lot of that going around.

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” I told him.

  “You’re not going to let me forget about Rahimat, are you?”

  “Should I? Your nephew’s up to his pointy ears in dumping me and Piaras at Chigaru Mal’Salin’s feet, and you tell me I should let it go?”

  “I didn’t have a thing to do with that, and you know it.” He smiled slowly. “Besides, you like me too much to stay mad.”

  There wasn’t much by means of contrition in that smile, but this was Tam we were talking about. Besides, it was true. I did believe him, and Tam was way too charming to stay mad at for long. Since he was right, I did the only thing I could do. I changed the subject.

  “Markus’s dockside safehouses are all occupied at the moment, so this was the most convenient place to bring him. Will you help me or not?”

  Tam glanced at Ocnus through a gap left intentionally in the door boards. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. He shook his head and laughed softly.

  “I don’t have to say how much you’ll owe me for this.”

  “I owe you nothing. You owe me for last night.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.”

  “It was your house. You didn’t have to let A’Zahra Nuru and her princeling stay there with his closest, most heavily armed friends.”

  Tam almost looked sheepish. “Actually, I did. Refusal would have been, how shall I say, difficult for me.”

  Tam obviously didn’t want to expound on that, not to mention, I didn’t have the
time.

  “Help me get Ocnus to talk and I’ll set you up with the best spirits distributor in Greypoint.”

  The goblin’s dark eyes flickered in interest.

  “She keeps Markus Sevelien’s cellar stocked.”

  That got Tam’s attention.

  “We’ll discuss the details later,” I added. “Ocnus first. Fine wines later.”

  Tam glanced at the little sorcerer and took a deep breath. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to breathe Ocnus’s air either.

  “The things I do for my customers.”

  I smiled, stood on tiptoe, and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “And your friends.”

  “Them, too,” he whispered. His breath was warm against my cheek—and his hands even warmer on my waist.

  His lips found the tip of my ear, then his tongue made the discovery. I discovered I only had one breath, and it wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was I. One of Tam’s hands encircled my waist, pulling me tight against him. I tried unsuccessfully to remember why I was here. The question flittered around my head in search of an answer. Oh yeah, Ocnus. If that didn’t dampen Tam’s ardor, nothing would.

  “Ocnus.” It came out on what little breath I could spare.

  “Mmmm?” Tam’s lips were busy working their way south, and his free hand was doing likewise.

  I tried to point to the interrogation room, but my fingers had somehow tangled themselves in Tam’s hair. Traitors.

  “Ocnus.” I said with only slightly more insistence.

  “Let him get his own girl,” Tam murmured. Then he kissed me, a devastating meeting of lips and warm breath, topped off with just a nibble of fang, all guaranteed to liquefy the knees of any woman. I didn’t need the Saghred’s help to know what Tam wanted to do next.

  With Mychael Eiliesor in the next room.

  I found my breath, inhaled half of Tam’s, and pushed myself away.

  “Mychael’s in the next room,” I managed.

  His hold tightened. “He can get his own girl, too.”

  I raised a warning finger. “That’s not what we’re here for.” I swallowed and tried for more air. It just came out as a gasp.

  Tam slid smooth fingers beneath my chin, tilting my face up to his. “Plans can change.” The sly grin on his lips had worked its way north to his dark eyes, eyes that had somehow gotten even darker.

  “Perhaps.” I swallowed again, hard. “Later.”

  Tam reluctantly released me, but took his sweet time doing it. I stepped back and straightened my shirt—and tried to do the same to my thoughts. Prying and kicking them all out of the gutter they’d fallen into wasn’t easy, but I managed.

  Tam and I stepped into the storeroom. From Ocnus’s expression when he saw Tam, I knew this was going to be easy and a little enjoyable. I felt a twinge of guilt about the last part, but the thought of Piaras’s bruised face, along with fire pixies, giant leeches, and Magh’Sceadu—and that Ocnus had played a direct role in causing it all—was enough to make it go away.

  “Since you don’t want to speak to me, I thought you might like to talk to Primaru Nathrach.” I paused meaningfully. “You’re aware of his relation to the Mal’Salin family, in addition to his previous position as the late queen’s chief shaman.” I didn’t ask it as a question. Ocnus knew who Tam used to be even better than I did—or wanted to.

  Ocnus’s nod was punctuated by a squeak. So much for confirmation of Tam’s past activities, or at least his reputation.

  “He’s also a good friend of mine.”

  “A very good friend,” Tam added, his voice low and smooth—and completely devoid of mercy. It spoke volumes about what he would be willing to do, and it promised torments beyond Ocnus’s feeble imagination. It gave me the creeps. I could only imagine what it was doing to Ocnus.

  I turned to leave the room. “Just let me know if you need anything,” I told Tam cheerfully.

  The goblin nodded slowly, his face expressionless. I fought back a shiver. Could I pick my friends, or what?

  Ocnus’s worst fear about the Mal’Salin family centered squarely on what they did to servants who had displeased them. They ate them. Of course this wasn’t true. Well, at least not anymore. But when it came to maintaining prejudice, or a reputation, a little rumor went a long way. Especially if the rumor involved rotisserie cooking. The rumored antics of the Mal’Salin family multiplied those fears a hundred fold.

  “Wait!” Ocnus’s voice was thin, shrill, and appropriately terrified.

  Now we were getting somewhere.

  Once Ocnus started talking, there was no shutting him up. His double-dealings had multiplied into a veritable web of intrigue. I knew greed could make you stupid, and I thought I’d seen and heard it all, but Ocnus’s antics appalled even me.

  Sarad Nukpana wanted the beacon, and an expendable human thief to get it for him. Ocnus had never liked Quentin, so he topped Ocnus’s list of expendables. Once Chigaru got wind of what his brother and Nukpana were after, he wanted in, too. At this point, things got sticky for Ocnus. He couldn’t refuse Sarad Nukpana’s order without exposing his dealings with Chigaru Mal’Salin. Ocnus knew the double fee he stood to collect wouldn’t do him much good if he were dead, and he was desperate to shift the blame. He told Sarad Nukpana that Quentin was going to double-cross him and fence the beacon through Simon Stocken. It sounded like Stocken hadn’t died quietly, naming Ocnus as the main source of Nukpana’s inconvenience. Then there was last night. Ocnus had been watching Piaras and told Chigaru’s retainers exactly where to find him. Then he sent the letter to me at Sirens. So the entire evening in which Piaras and I were nearly killed on numerous occasions had been orchestrated by the quivering mass of goblin seated not five feet from my clenched and eager fists. I heard a growl. I think it was me.

  “Raine.” Tam’s voice was low and warning. “Even Sarad Nukpana would be challenged to extract information from a corpse.”

  I unclenched my fists and my jaw. “That’s fascinating, Ocnus. And I can put all that information to good use, but it still doesn’t tell me where the Saghred is.”

  “I can’t tell you!” he wailed. “He’ll kill me!”

  “Who?”

  Ocnus’s lips quivered with muffled sobs. I found it increasingly difficult to keep my rage at a respectable level. It would be a lot easier if Ocnus weren’t so pathetic.

  “Nukpana,” he snuffled. “The king, the prince. It doesn’t matter, I’m just as dead.”

  Even if I could put my decency on a shelf, I didn’t have the stomach for torture, or the patience for a long interrogation. Good thing I didn’t have to make a living as an inquisitor. I’d starve. Tam sensed my frustration and stepped in, bless him.

  “Very well, if you refuse to be useful to my elven friend, you can still be useful to me. You are from Mipor, are you not?”

  Ocnus paused, then nodded cautiously, seeing no harm in the question.

  “Good. I don’t know if you are aware, but Miporian flesh is a delicacy in our family.” Tam popped the button off of Ocnus’s shirt cuff with a sharp snap, and slid the dirty linen above his elbow. He glanced distastefully at the grime. “Naturally, you’ll have to be washed first,” he muttered under his breath.

  Ocnus looked to me in wide-eyed panic.

  I made no move to stop Tam. “Where’s the Saghred?”

  When Ocnus didn’t answer, Tam lifted one of the little sorcerer’s arms speculatively. “Probably a bit stringy beneath the fat, but an overnight marinade should take care of that.” His dark eyes became dreamy as he ran a fingertip smoothly down the pasty underside of Ocnus’s arm. “Grandmother had the most delectable recipe,” he breathed. “The meat all but fell off the bone.”

  “The goblin embassy,” Ocnus squeaked. “The mausoleum.”

  “How do you know this?” Tam half pulled Ocnus from his chair, the sorcerer’s arm clutched tightly in his fist.

  “A year ago there was an elf who wanted to get onto the embassy grounds.”

&n
bsp; “Describe him,” came Mychael’s steady voice from the now open doorway.

  Ocnus swallowed and looked from me to Tam.

  “Do it,” I growled.

  The goblin sorcerer licked his lips. “Gray eyes, gray hair, but he wasn’t old. He had more than enough gold, so I didn’t ask questions.”

  Ocnus was panting. Just my luck he’d hyperventilate and pass out.

  He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I brought him onto the grounds through The Ruins. He went into the mausoleum. He never came back out. I went in to look. He wasn’t there. There’s only one way in and I was watching it the whole time.”

  I looked at Tam. “Mausoleum?”

  “There’s a mausoleum on the property from the previous owners.”

  “How do you know he carried the Saghred?” Mychael asked.

  I felt the pull of a spellsinger in his words, compelling Ocnus to tell the truth. He need not have bothered. Ocnus was telling the truth, or at least what he thought was the truth. I think the beacon was helping things along. Once again, I was grateful.

  “He had a small box made of white stone,” Ocnus said. “Like the box Nukpana had me hire Quentin to steal. Only this one was larger and square.” He held his hands about four inches apart, no easy task considering Tam still had one of those hands.

  “How do you know there was anything inside?”

  “Something was glowing, like a big firefly. Red, flickering.”

  Mychael put a box of translucent white stone on the table in front of Ocnus. “Anything like this?”

  Ocnus licked his lips again. “Exactly.”

  “And Nukpana doesn’t know?”

  Ocnus swallowed and shook his head.

  Tam released Ocnus, but didn’t move away, instead looming ominously over the goblin snitch.

  “I find it difficult to believe that you found a way to get even more gold out of Sarad Nukpana and yet you passed up the opportunity.”

  Ocnus seemed to shrink in his chair. “Not at first. I overheard why he needed the beacon. You know, what he hoped to find with it. That’s when I remembered the elf and the stone box.” A twitching had taken up residence in Ocnus’s left eyelid. “So I set up another meeting with him. To make him an offer. That’s when I heard he knew about my deals with the prince. I didn’t go to the meeting.”