Alchemy's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 5)

by D J Salisbury

  Lorel leaned back against the wagon and closed her eyes for a moment. “Got it. I gotta pretend nothing bothers me.”

  “That’s right.” He smiled wryly at her. “After all, we’re seasoned travelers. We’ve seen everything. This isn’t any worse than Padue.”

  “At least they was religious folk.” She slumped against the wagon door. “These guys are just out for money.”

  “Killing somebody for the sake of religion doesn’t bother you?” Viper rolled his eyes. “Dead is dead.”

  “Oh.” She picked at a callous on her thumb. “I guess you got a point.”

  “I believe in killing for survival. Not for anything else.” Especially not after he’d killed the Paduan slaver with blood magic. No, with death magic. He still had nightmares about the man’s ice-white face.

  “Don’t go filly-off-cold on me, kid.”

  The turybird. He should never have accused her of being a philosopher. Perhaps if he explained what it meant she’d stop abusing the word. But he suspected Kyri already had, and she knew exactly what she was saying.

  A few blocks later Lorel sat up and pointed. “Will that one suit the toad better?”

  It was a smallish inn, but it had a large stableyard that backed up against a huge building. A building humming with power.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Kyri nudged the door up an inch. “The hatchling must not adjourn in this vicinity. Does it not perceive the magic in the environs?”

  “It’ll be perfect camouflage for any mistakes I make.” He tapped a starfish attached to the door. “Besides, a magician is expected to do a little magic. I’ll make sure I look weak and generally useless.”

  The door lowered. He felt his link to the serpent vanish. Poor Kyri must be thoroughly spooked by whatever was happening here.

  He gestured Tsai’dona to ride closer. “If anyone asks how good I am, tell them I’m entertaining but can’t light a candle.”

  Lorel blinked at him. “I ain’t never seen you light a candle.”

  Bess patted his hand. “I’ve never seen you do any magic at all.”

  Tsai’dona rolled her eyes. “I try not to watch your shows. Even fake magic creeps me out.”

  All three of his companions looked puzzled. If they always showed those faces to the world, he’d be safe.

  He gestured at the inn’s stableyard. “Let’s see if they have rooms for all of us.” All he wanted right now was a bed that didn’t move, a room that didn’t have people (or cubs) who snored, and a bill that didn’t cost all the profits he hoped to make in this city.

  Chapter 11.

  Two miswoven hours after dawn, Lorel put her hands on her hips and forced herself to not yell at the fraying kid. “Whatcha mean, we can’t sell weapons here? Ain’t we weapons merchants?”

  The kid pushed his half-empty porridge bowl across the table and glanced around the inn’s common room.

  What was he looking for? Weren’t nobody around to eavesdrop on them. The sleepy head had snoozed so late all the other travelers took off ages ago. Tsai and her had been at sword practice since first light. You’d think all their yelling and bashing outside his window would’ve woken him up sooner.

  “I ain’t stupid, kid.” Taking care to face the inn’s main door, she dropped into the chair nearest him. Her spine got jarred clear up to her jawbone. Miswoven short-legged chairs were worse than sitting on pillows in Dureme-Lor. “Ain’t nobody nearby to hear. Tsai’s keeping an eye on the kitchen door, and Bess is watching the staircase. They’ll warn us.”

  Bess’s spoon clattered into her empty bowl, but she nodded.

  Lorel grabbed the kid’s bowl and shoveled a spoonful of porridge into her mouth. What, no honey and only a few raisins? No wonder he didn’t eat this crap. They’d fed her lots better at daybreak.

  Tsai frowned at the little twerp. “Why did we haul Crayl steel over half the world if we can’t sell it?”

  “We will sell it, but not in Shi.” He threw up his hands. “Probably not in any Nashidran city. The empire frowns on its citizens having steel blades. I don’t want to go to prison.”

  Lorel fought down a shiver. Getting stuck in a cell would likely kill her. But still. “That’s just the rule in Zedista, Loom lint. We’re under occupation there. Nobody cares here.”

  “Oh.” The kid sorta sagged. “I didn’t p-pay the t-t…”

  Bess thumped his wrist. “Don’t mumble, pet. You didn’t what?”

  “Pay the entrance tax. On our cargo.” He shoved his pink face into his hands. “I didn’t dare mention it. I was sure we’d all be locked up.”

  She wouldn’t’ve either, if she’d thought it was true. What if it was? “Maybe we should ask around before you go trying to pay that tax. In case you’re right.”

  He nodded and sat upright, but his face was still as tawny-pink as her mom’s favorite roses. “I have plenty of gemstones to sell.”

  Tsai tilted her head. “Did you pay taxes on them?”

  The kid sagged again and shook his head. “Didn’t even think about them. I’m not used to the tax-everything attitude Nashidrans have. We don’t have any way to make money. I’m sorry.”

  Why be sorry? He seemed to have plenty cash to keep them going for a while. One less hassle, as far as she was concerned.

  Bess patted his shoulder. “You came in as a magician. I heard you pay the taxes. You can put on a few performances.”

  The kid shuddered. “Kyri chewed on my ears for an hour last night. Absolutely no magic shows, or I’ll never hear the end of it. And if Kyri’s right, even a little magic could get us all killed.”

  Silly kid trusted the slithering toad too much. Not that saying so would do any good. “What’ll we do now?”

  The little chunk of Loom lint shrugged. “Go sightseeing. Keep our ears open for rumors of trouble. Surely someone’s noticed a Mindbender is active in this city.”

  Tsai frowned and sat in a chair facing the kitchen, though it looked like she was watching the stairwell, too. “Don’t we need an excuse to wander in a place like this? With all the City Guards marching around, they act as if they’re under siege.”

  Bess fluttered her fingers. “It’s normal imperial behavior. Don’t worry about it. But they might ask our business.”

  The kid nodded. “That’s easy. We’re looking for a good place for a show, even though I don’t plan to hold one. We’re looking for trinkets to buy, dolls and jewelry and books. I can give stuffed animals away while I hold a performance, and check out the prices on gemstones here to see if it’s worth paying the taxes.”

  Why not? It sounded plenty innocent.

  Tsai grinned. “You get to remember all that stuff. Bodyguards don’t talk, not even to officials.”

  “Unless they ask you directly.” Bess pushed back her chair and stood. “Always answer, even if you can only say you don’t know his plans.”

  Lorel snickered. “That’s true even when he tells us what he’s up to.”

  The kid rolled his eyes. “Bahtdor bait.”

  Bess turned to him. “What’s my place in your schemes? I’m obviously not a guard of any sort.”

  Tsai sniggered.

  Lorel laughed outright. Sing to the Weaver the old lady didn’t wanna pretend to be a swordswoman. She’d never fool nobody.

  “You’re my bookkeeper.” All the sudden he grinned. “I get to pretend I can’t keep track of money.”

  They all laughed. Tsai brayed so loud the innkeeper stuck his head into the common room. “Everybody healthy? I thought a couple of donkeys were battling trolls in here.”

  Hey, they hadn’t laughed that hard. But even Bess had cackled at the kid’s evil plan.

  He waved the innkeeper away, and turned down an offer of more awful porridge or tea. “Let’s go investigate the lay of the city.” He jumped out of his chair, tugged his ugly coat straight, and limped to the front door.

  Such a bossy little turd. But he was right, reconnoitering the area was always a good idea.
She followed him out the door, Tsai and old Bess right on her heels.

  His streaky red coat bobbed down the street. Well, not red. Sorta blood-in-cream colored. Getting doused in sea water made it look like something Baby barfed up, but he’d be easy to find.

  Especially when he ducked through doorways so quick.

  Behind her, Tsai growled. “I hate when it does that.”

  “Wanna bet there’s books in there?” Easy money, if Tsai would. Lorel eased through the undersized doorway and put on her best warrior expression.

  “Not a chance.” Tsai didn’t even duck to miss the low lintel.

  Looking puzzled, Bess strolled in behind them. “Why bet about books?”

  Lorel raised one eyebrow and gestured at the shelves, but shook her head. Bodyguards don’t never talk on duty. The kid was teaching her bad habits.

  But she was sorta surprised. There were a few books on the shelves, but mostly the place was empty.

  “My uncle died ten days ago,” some young guy was saying. A cute guy, if you liked the average short, skinny, dark-haired, pale-skinned Nashidran. But he towered over the kid by a foot, and the kid was frowning. “I need to clean out his shop today, or the owner will charge me a lunar’s rent.”

  “Not much of a selection left.” The kid shrugged and looked the shelves over. Suddenly he wiped the frown off his face. “I’ll give you five patrons for the lot.”

  Weaver’s chamberpot. His blank face meant trouble. Her back already hurt just thinking about carrying all them books.

  The Nasty guy frowned. “They’ve got to be worth more. Five nobles.”

  The kid shrugged and turned toward the door.

  If she hadn’t been concentrating on looking scary, her jaw would’ve bounced off the tile. He’d never walked out on a dickering session before. Not one with books involved.

  “No, stop,” the Nasty yelled. Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Make me a counteroffer.”

  The kid looked over his shoulder. “Eight patrons if you throw in the velvet and a crate to haul the books in.”

  Why on the Loom did he want a pile of wrinkly black velvet?

  “Done.” The Nasty dashed into the back room and hauled out a big wood box.

  Bess wandered over and helped the two of them pile books into the crate. “I hope these aren’t stolen goods,” she whispered when the Nasty toddled to the far end of the room.

  “Couldn’t be.” The kid looked uncertain for a second, but shook his head. “Most of them aren’t worth two beggars. But I don’t own copies of any of them, and some of them look interesting.”

  The fraying kid knew at a glance he ain’t got none of them books? Some of them didn’t even have writing on their outsides. He had to be faking it.

  All the books he was stuffing into the box were old, though, and the older a book got, the better he loved it. Didn’t he know intelligence got out of date and turned into dustbunnies hiding under the bed? If she had to have a book, make it a new one, like the one he gave her showing weapons. Now that was useful.

  Once Bess plunked the last book into the crate, the Nasty shoved the velvet on top and slammed the lid down.

  The kid winced, but didn’t say nothing. He just counted eight coins into the guy’s hand and bent over to pick up the crate.

  The box didn’t move none. Not even a wiggle, no matter how hard he strained. His padded boot slipped sideways until he was standing on his ankle stump.

  Lorel snickered, picked up the kid and set him to one side. She scooped up the crate and balanced it on her shoulder. It was sorta heavy, come to think of it.

  He pulled his boot back on, marched to the door, and held it open for her.

  Bess was all goggle-eyed, but followed him out onto the street.

  Tsai snickered behind her hand. “I thought you refused to carry his books anymore.”

  Like she’d make him drag the miswoven thing through the streets. And he’d’ve found a way to, he was so stubborn. “This isn’t a book, it’s a box.”

  Tsai sniggered, but reached high and helped keep the crate balanced.

  Instead of going inside the inn, the kid led her through the stableyard to the wagon. Sing to the Weaver! She didn’t wanna carry the fraying thing up all them stairs if she could avoid it. It was getting heavier with every step.

  She hoisted the box up to the driver’s platform, jumped up there herself, and tried to lift the wagon door.

  It didn’t budge.

  She thumped on the wood. “Open up, toad. You won’t believe what the kid bought.”

  The door wiggled a bit, and she lifted it as high as it would go before hefting the crate past Kyri’s nose.

  The overgrown wiggler sniffed at the box. “The hatchling has purchased antediluvian tomes? This one’s olfaction distinguishes sundry as beguiling.”

  Longwinded worm. “What’d it say, kid?”

  “It likes the smell of my new old books.” He turned and hobbled out of the stableyard. “I still want to find a jeweler’s.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And I need to buy more toys for our magic shows. I’ll try not to buy any more books.”

  An empty promise. She was beginning to remember why she hated cities. She surely didn’t appreciate the wilderness as much as she should’ve. No stores to distract the fraying kid.

  Tsai grinned and shook her head.

  Lorel stretched her cramped shoulder and shooed Bess after him. Sooner or later he’d wander into a weapons shop. He couldn’t help himself. And then she’d have something interesting to look at.

  Chapter 12.

  Three hours later, his turybird started fidgeting. Worse than before, anyway. She’d been doing a good job of hiding her impatience.

  Viper stepped away from the shop window. “What’s wrong now?” Besides discovering a store devoted to human bones.

  Tsai’dona grinned, but tried to wipe the amusement off her face. Unsuccessfully, he might add.

  Bess continued to frown into the window pane.

  He agreed. He loved bones, but selling human skeletons struck him as immoral.

  Lorel’s dark skin blushed a deep red. “I’m hungry.”

  He should have guessed.

  Bess turned away from the window. “Again?”

  Viper laughed. “Not again. Always and forever.”

  “It takes a lot of fuel to keep a warrior going.” Absorbed with watching the crowded street, Tsai’dona barely glanced at him. “I’m getting hungry, too.”

  He shrugged and started walking along the wooden sidewalk. “I saw some restaurants a couple of blocks from here. There should be something we can agree on.” Now that he had a new jacket to replace the seawater-ruined one, they shouldn’t have much trouble getting service.

  “I’ll eat anything, kid.”

  Tsai’dona snorted. “Except rice or rabbits or raw fish.”

  “I’m plenty hungry to eat that crap, too.” Lorel slowed her pace to match his much-shorter stride. “Besides, you don’t none like Nasty cooking.”

  “Too much rancid grease.”

  Bess chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Viper shuddered. “Not if I have a choice about it.”

  Tsai’dona pretended to gag.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with it?” Lorel reached down and tugged on Tsai’dona’s braid. “It’s food, it’s filling, and it ain’t rice. And we ain’t gotta cook it.”

  Viper snorted. “As if you ever did the cooking.” Though she might have, while he was trapped in the dragon’s cavern.

  Tsai’dona glanced back at Bess while checking behind them. “Don’t ever let her cook. She burns everything.”

  “I do not.” Lorel scowled so fiercely, several people hopped off the sidewalk and crossed to the far side of the street, even though they had to dart between fancy carriages and overladen carts and steaming horse apples to get there.

  “Simmer down, sandcrab.” Viper grinned at the hesitant people walking toward them. All he needed was to have his turybird
tossed into jail for terrifying the locals. “You don’t even like to cook. D’you want it as your permanent job?”

  Lorel stumbled, over her own feet as far as he could tell. “Blood in the Weave, no way!”

  “So stop whining.” He glanced at the restaurant they were passing. The sign read, ‘The Fattened Duck.’

  He’d read about the place. Much too expensive. And it smelled worse than boiled-to-leather mystery meat. They’d definitely wandered into the wrong neighborhood. Time to find some real food, if possible. Though he’d never be able to find a Setoyan meal. He’d have to settle for Zedisti-style food.

  A slender young woman limped toward them. Long, white-gold hair escaped her cloak, swept over her shoulders and spilled down her chest. Nashidran-pale skin peeked out from a lynx-fur hood. She was no taller than Bess, short even for a Nashidran, only a few inches taller than he was.

  Would a girl like her appreciate short men? Even if he wasn’t exactly a man yet.

  Cool, jade green eyes glanced at him and widened. Her already-brilliant bronze aura flared violet and silver.

  According to his new copy of Mist’s A Contemplation of Auras, bronze meant greed or hunger. Well it was dinnertime. Lorel’s normally red and green aura was overlaid with bronze, too. Violet meant knowledge or intimacy. She didn’t know him at all. The color must mean she was a student of some sort.

  Silver meant magic, but he couldn’t see any active spells around her. Maybe she merely had the potential. Many people did who never learned to use it.

  But he had learned magic, if not enough. He tightened his Masking Veil and thanked the Thunderer for the reminder.

  The girl smiled and brushed her silvery hair out of her face.

  That face! He knew her! She was the girl in the diamond.

  The young woman looked directly at him.

  Viper fell into her eyes.

  Beautiful, deep, endless eyes, eyes the green of new growth, of laughter, of wonder and hope. Eyes wide and soft and haunting, sad and warm. Innocent eyes, as fresh as young leaves, brighter than dawn on a brook.