The Warrior Mage (The Power of Three Book 2)

by Sabine A. Reed

  "Come now, my pretty, drink up quickly." He was already fighting to keep his eyes open. "Let's not waste any more time."

  After taking one step towards her, he swayed and fell to the floor. Even in sleep he wore a surprised expression.

  Aria put the box inside her satchel. The powdered drug worked fast, but its effect would wear off before dawn. Before that, she intended to be far away from him.

  With nimble fingers she unhooked his belt and took off his coin-filled pouches. One was filled with silver coins and the other with gold. Taking out three gold coins, she set them on the table. The tavern keeper would be paid and her mark would have enough coin to go back home.

  She searched the rest of his luggage and found nothing of importance, save for personal belongings and a few pieces of fine ladies' cloth which he had probably bought for his wife. Those she left in the room. She donned her cloak, tying it under her neck to make sure that her gown did not show, and slipped out of the room.

  Stealthily, she walked down the stairs of the tavern, the stolen bounty hidden in her satchel. No one was in the bar and the main door was closed. Aria slipped the chain off the hook and hurried out before the tavern keeper came to investigate.

  It was late. The half moon hung luminous in the sky, surrounded by twinkling stars. The streets of Kalaba were deserted. Close by a dog barked and was answered by another one. Thieves and drunkards roamed the cobbled lanes, looking for easy marks and harlots. It was not safe for a young woman to be out alone.

  The city was set in a haphazard manner; houses sat next to taverns and shops nestled alongside random dwellings. Narrow lanes crisscrossed each other, all leading towards the main square of the city. Overfilled drains spewed muck on the lanes and doorsteps of the houses.

  Aria set off in the opposite direction, making for the far edge of the city. She knew every turn of the lanes and was soon near her destination. As the first rays of dawn broke through the cover of the night, she slipped her key into a keyhole and entered a small foyer. Quietly, she swung the satchel off her shoulder and walked through the darkened hallway into the kitchen. After groping in the dark, her agile fingers found the short white candle and the matches that lay next to it. She lit the candle and stood back as it cast the room in an eerie yellow light.

  "Where've you been?"

  Aria jumped. "Shayla!" A petite woman with an exasperated look on her face stood in the doorway watching her. "You scared me half to death."

  Shayla entered and pulled back one of the rickety chairs beside the table in the center of the room. "Serves you right. I was up half the night worrying about you. Sit. I saved some soup for you."

  "You shouldn't have." Aria took off her cloak and hung it on a hook. With a quick swipe, she removed the headband that covered her black curly hair and tossed it on the table, along with the satchel. She was hungry, not to mention bone-weary from the day's work. Yawning, she sat down on the chair. "Where's David?"

  David was Shayla's five-year old son. Her husband had died two years ago, leaving her alone to raise the boy. She did a good job keeping a roof over their head by running a fruit and vegetable stand in the local market. It was not a luxurious existence but it was an honest one, she liked to say--a fact over which she always clashed with Aria.

  "David's still sleeping." Shayla lit a fire under the soup pot that was already on the stove. It was a bare kitchen, with few well-used pots and pans. "Where have you been? I thought you were at the fair and would be back by midnight?" There was resignation in her voice. She did not approve of Aria's choice of profession.

  Aria was not a woman of loose morals. She was a thief and a con-artist. Her victims, over the years, had been old and young, handsome and ugly, short and tall, mostly male but not always. The only element in common being that they were all rich. She'd been running a scam at the fair for the past week, pretending to read people's palms and telling them their future. "I was leaving and then I saw this fat man ogling women. He was such an easy mark."

  "I wish you would stop doing that." Shayla frowned. "It makes me uneasy to think of you doing such dangerous business alone, without anyone to help you. If only Marcus was here..." Picking up a simple wooden bowl from a shelf above the stove, she ladled a generous portion of soup in it. She placed it in front of Aria, along with a big slab of homemade bread.

  Aria sighed and answered the unspoken question. "I didn't find him." Marcus was her older brother. He had been missing for the past three weeks. Ordinarily Aria would not have run the harlot scam without him being there as her backup but she needed to earn a living. Since he had not come home for so long, she had been forced to work without him.

  "Did you ask everyone at the market? They all know him well. Perhaps, someone saw him?" Hope simmered in Shayla's tired eyes. It was clear she had not slept well.

  Aria shook her head. "No sign of him anywhere. I don't know where to look next. This has never happened before."

  "Marcus has disappeared for days before," Shayla said. "You've told me so yourself." A desperate edge of fear sharpened her voice. "Maybe he went out of town and can't find his way back?"

  "Marcus isn't stupid." Aria snapped out the words, and instantly regretted causing the hurt in Shayla's eyes. Shayla was as worried about Marcus as she was.

  Her brother was a simpleton, a child inside a man's body. He had been like that since childhood. His vulnerability made Aria all the more protective towards him, despite the fact that she was younger.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." Aria shook her head. "It's just that I know that if he'd gone out of town, he would've come back by now. He would never leave us alone for so many days, knowing that David, you and I would be worried about him. Are you sure you didn't have a lovers' tiff that made him want to take off?"

  A warm blush covered Shayla's cheeks. "I would never fight with Marcus. Never!"

  Pressing her fingers to her eyelids, Aria took a deep breath. Shayla and Marcus had been lovers for the past eight months. The fact that Shayla was five years' older than Marcus had caused Aria some misgivings initially. She had been distrustful of the older woman at first, but Shayla's open and honest love for Marcus soon won her over.

  "There is no alternative," she muttered, almost to herself. "I'll have to check the guards' list for the prisoners."

  Shayla gasped. "You don't think..."

  "It's the only thing left to do," Aria whispered. Every few months, the Queen's guards rounded up young and able-bodied men from the streets of various cities and villages and sent them off to the capital, Akba, for an oath-taking ceremony before the Queen. Once the men took their oaths of loyalty, they were sent to the border for training. Many of them returned as city guards and some remained at the border as border patrol. Over the last few months, there had been rumors that such round-ups had increased in number and that the Queen was enlisting more men for a war with the neighboring country, Bagdesh.

  Usually, Aria paid little attention to the activities of the crown. Her survival and that of her brother's was paramount.

  All that had changed since her brother's disappearance over three weeks ago. For the initial few days, she had not worried. Despite his childlike behavior, Marcus was capable of taking care of himself. It was possible he had followed a potential mark out of the city.

  Now, so many days later, Aria knew he was in trouble. He would never have left them for so long. Fear for her brother's safety was a thick cold fist around her heart.

  "But the prisoners? Most of them never come back." Shayla sat down. Her eyes filled with tears.

  Sunlight streamed in through the windows and cast thin silvery streams on the rough table. Aria reached forward to pinch the wick of the candle between her thumb and finger. For a long moment, neither woman spoke. Aria dipped her spoon into the soup and stirred, unmindful of the delicious aroma that filled the room.

  "Marcus will come back," she said finally, and spooned the hot soup into her mouth, not even wincing when the hot liquid burnt
its way down her throat.

  She would make sure he did, for he was all she had and losing him to the Queen was not an option.

  "How would you get the list of those taken?" Shayla placed her hands on the table. "It must be in the Guardhouse. No one would let you in."

  "I'll have to sneak in and steal it."

  "Steal the list?" Shayla gaped in shock. "The Guardhouse has more than fifty guards. It will be impossible! And if you get caught..."

  "I'll be hanged for treason." Aria said with fake nonchalance. "But don't worry. I won't get caught. I'm good at what I do."

  Shayla gulped but did not say a word. But the worry etched in her eyes conveyed a million thoughts.

  "I'll find Marcus," Aria vowed. He was her only family. There was nothing she would not do to ensure his safety, even if it meant risking her very life to do so.

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