Company of Strangers, #1

by Melissa McShane

  Loud footsteps made her tense, hoping it was one of her companions come to rescue her, but then she heard Milo Giorda’s voice. “They disappeared. You sure they didn’t get the artifact?”

  “Sure,” Conn said. Sienne craned her neck to look at him. He held the silver box in one arm and his spellbook casually in the other. “Where’s Osfald?”

  “Don’t know. Do you think they captured him?”

  “No great loss if they did.”

  “We should pack up and go,” Alethea said. “You plan to take the whelp with us?”

  “She’s just misguided,” Conn said. “And there’s still a chance she can be a deterrent to them attacking us again. Ham-fist may not care about her, but Dianthe Espero probably does, as soft-hearted as she is. She won’t want to see the girl’s pretty little throat slit.”

  “Hoy! Giorda!”

  It was Perrin’s voice. Sienne’s heart pounded with equal parts fear and joy. “We have something of yours,” Perrin went on. “As you have something of ours. An even exchange seems in order, do you not think?”

  Conn grinned at his siblings, a nasty expression Sienne wished she hadn’t seen. “You mean Osfald?” he shouted. “He’s nothing to me. Keep him, or throw him out, it’s all the same.”

  The three Giordas had turned toward the spot Perrin’s voice had come from. Nobody was watching Sienne. She flexed against the ropes binding her, but Alethea had done her work well, and they gave not an inch. If only she had a knife!

  The thought had barely crossed her mind when she remembered Zenobia’s boot knife. She’d carried it for so long its hard, angular hilt no longer registered. She strained, pulling up her feet behind her, but the thing had slipped deep into her too-large boot, out of her reach. That was probably a good thing, since Conn hadn’t seen it to take it with her belt knife, but it might as well be gone for all the good it did her. She closed her eyes and breathed out through her nostrils. She had one last hope, which was that her invisible fingers could fetch it out for her. The trouble was, she’d never tried to lift anything she couldn’t see. But she could feel the knife pressing against her shin, and she had absolutely nothing to lose.

  Breathing out slowly again, she pictured the boot knife, the slim blade, the smooth hilt, and imagined her invisible fingers wrapping around it, tugging it free. She felt a smooth movement against her leg, like a snake sliding over her skin. Excited at her success, she pulled harder, and the thing slipped out of her grasp and slid back a fraction of an inch. She gritted her teeth and made herself relax, told herself this was nothing, it wasn’t life or death, just a simple exercise—

  The knife slid smoothly up her leg and into her hand.

  Carefully, she reversed it and laid the knife’s edge against the ropes. She prayed she wasn’t about to slit her wrists, and began the agonizing process of cutting herself free.

  She’d heard a conversation going on between Conn and Perrin, but hadn’t had the attention to spare to listen to it. Now she heard Conn say to his siblings, “She’s more of a bargaining chip than I thought. We’ll have to keep her until we get back to Fioretti.”

  “I don’t know,” Milo said. “That’s an awful burden, caring for a hostage. Maybe we should just exchange and be done with it.”

  “And give Ham-fist the satisfaction? Not a chance,” Conn said. “Still not interested,” he shouted. “You should give up and go home. You can have your little friend back when we return to Fioretti. If she wants to go back.” He laughed. “I’ve got three days to convince her where her fortunes ought to lie.”

  The last strand of rope parted, and Sienne was free—but free to do what? Gingerly, making very small movements, she slipped her spellbook out of her vest. She had one offensive spell, and she’d never tried it, but the Giordas were grouped together as neatly as if they’d set themselves up for her to make her first test. She willed her book open to the right page and waited for her moment.

  “That sounds like a threat,” Perrin called out. “I warn you, threatening our companion will bring you nothing but misery.”

  “I won’t hurt her,” Conn began, but Sienne wasn’t listening. With his words as cover for her own so he wouldn’t realize what she was doing, she read off the evocation scream.

  It was sharp, hard-edged, and it burned her mouth like acid. It poured out of her, building to a terrible climax, until the final syllables emerged from deep within her as a shrill, skull-piercing shriek that rattled her already muddled brain.

  The Giordas screamed and threw up their hands to cover their ears, but it was too late. All of them dropped, Milo landing on his side and curling up into the fetal position, Alethea with her head pressed to the ground like she was trying to burrow into it, Conn retching and gagging on his knees.

  Sienne lowered her spellbook and let her head fall. Someone was running toward her from the other direction, someone who dropped to their knees and supported Sienne’s head. “Kitane’s left arm, what was that?” Dianthe exclaimed.

  Alaric came into view, standing over the convulsing Giordas. “Sorry that took so long,” he said. “We had to be careful, working our way around while Perrin had their attention.”

  “She has rescued herself, I think,” Kalanath said. He prodded Milo with his staff. “What is that?”

  “Scream,” Sienne whispered. Her mouth was still sore from the evocation. “Are their ears bleeding? Their ears are supposed to bleed if I did it right.”

  “I think bleeding ears are the least of their troubles,” Alaric said. He crouched beside Sienne. “Can you walk?”

  Sienne could barely shake her head in a “no.” Alaric grunted, then scooped her up in his arms as easily as if she’d been a kitten. “Grab the artifact,” he said, “and let’s get moving. How long will they be out?”

  “Don’t know,” Sienne whispered. “Half an hour?”

  “More than enough.” Alaric smiled down at her. “Did Conn try to recruit you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You could have told him yes. He’d have resources—”

  “I spat in his face.”

  Alaric and Dianthe laughed.

  “Besides, he abandoned that priest, didn’t he? Didn’t want to trade me for him. I don’t think he cares about loyalty.”

  “It is true,” Kalanath said. “You did well.”

  “I didn’t want anything he had to offer,” Sienne said. “And I certainly wouldn’t betray my friends.”

  Silence fell. Finally, Dianthe said, “I’m really glad I went into the Lucky Coin that morning.”

  “So am I,” Sienne said.

  Part II

  14

  The copper bath was barely big enough for Sienne to stand in. She focused briefly on the water, heating it to just above body temperature, then scrubbed herself vigorously before it could cool. Probably it was a bad idea, bathing when all she had to wear were her own filthy clothes, but it felt so good to be clean. Even so, she wasn’t going to wash her hair, which would take forever to dry even in this heat. She’d put up with an itchy scalp until tomorrow, when they returned to Fioretti.

  She stepped out of the tub and dried herself off. The outpost only had rudimentary facilities and no private bedrooms, just men’s and women’s dormitories, and the bed she’d been given was hard, but it was softer than the ground and Sienne wasn’t going to grumble. She pulled her shirt on over her head—oh, it was worse than she’d imagined, the shirt stiff from its immersion in rainwater and grimy to boot! She gritted her teeth and finished dressing. Tomorrow, a real bath, a real bed, and clean clothes.

  She’d been the last to bathe, at her own request, and now as she exited the bathing room she saw no one in the short hall that connected the dining hall with the dormitories. She deposited her things on her bed and followed her nose to the delicious smells of baked ham and fresh greens.

  The dining hall was about two-thirds full. She found her team seated at one of the round tables, already eating. She was about to protest when Dianthe nudg
ed a full plate at the place next to her. Sienne sat and dug into rich, salty ham, mashed yams, and an unexpected pile of green peas, out of season and therefore probably the result of magic.

  “So what next?” she asked. “We’ll be back in Fioretti by noon tomorrow, right?”

  Alaric nodded. “Dianthe and I will deliver the artifact to Master Fontanna. Then we’ll see about a buyer for the rest of the salvage.”

  “And you will deliver us the remainder of our money?” Kalanath said.

  “Yes, if you’ll give us a way to contact you. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “I meant,” Sienne said, “what about scrapping? What comes next?”

  “We’ll be happy to vouch for you with other employers,” Dianthe said. “We may have a poor reputation among scrappers, but clients know us to be reliable. That should help you find another job.”

  “Oh,” Sienne said, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt. Sure, it had been a rough start, but they’d worked so well together, she’d thought maybe that meant—

  “I, for one, am looking forward to a few weeks with nothing much to do,” Perrin said. “I am not entirely certain I want a future as a scrapper. Though I admit this time together has been rewarding, and not just in a fiduciary way.”

  “I, too, have enjoyed this,” Kalanath said. “You are not as I was told. I am glad I did not listen to rumor. I will remember this for future jobs.”

  Sienne pushed her remaining peas around her plate. So she was the only one who thought they should be a permanent team. She caught Dianthe looking at her in concern and smiled brightly. Had she said anything to indicate her feelings? She needed to keep her naïve sentimentality to herself.

  After dinner, she and Dianthe walked to the women’s dormitory together. The full meal and the relaxing warmth of the bath had made Sienne tired, and she found herself actually looking forward to the hard bed.

  “Are you all right?” Dianthe said.

  “Just sleepy.”

  “You seemed a little down. That’s normal, you know. When a job’s over, there’s a bit of a letdown. But everything feels bright again when you get a new job. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh. That’s…good to know.”

  Dianthe nodded. “You did good work. Maybe someday we’ll work together again.”

  Sienne made herself smile. “I’d like that.”

  Sienne swiped hair out of her face where the wind had blown it. A storm was coming in off the ocean, and the wind smelled of brine and sand. She realized her horse was crowding Dianthe and reined her in. Nobody on the streets paid any attention to them; everyone was heading for home, and shelter against the storm. Sienne felt disappointed. They’d returned to Fioretti as successful scrappers, and she thought someone ought to acknowledge that, even though reason told her no one could possibly know they’d been successful just by looking at them.

  She spat a loose strand out of her mouth and made herself sit up straight instead of hunching to make herself a smaller target for the storm. Now she could look forward to a real bath in a real bathing house, a launderer, and a good meal. Once they brought the artifact to Master Fontanna and found buyers for their salvage, they were free to go their own ways. Sienne wondered if she should find other lodgings. It would be awkward if she were living in Master Tersus’s house, but not going out on jobs with Alaric and Dianthe. But they were good lodgings, and…damn it, she wasn’t going to let them make this uncomfortable! Even if she was the only one who thought they all worked well together.

  They were passing through a district where wealthy men and women lived. Their houses resembled Master Tersus’s, but bigger, with hedges surrounding pleasure gardens and fountains and horse paths. Sienne couldn’t imagine keeping a horse in the big city just for fun, it would be so hard on the animal, but clearly people did. She was used to riding on the open downs, with the wind in her hair as it was now, but scented with green grass and the roses from her father’s gardens at their country estate. She patted her horse’s neck in apology for having to ride her over the hard cobbles.

  Ahead, Alaric was turning in at the stables, which were busier than when they’d left. Did he think it strange to ride a horse when he was able to turn into one? Sienne wouldn’t be able to manage it. She followed and dismounted, handing her reins to a stable hand and removing her gear. The stable hand led the chestnut mare away without saying a word, leaving Sienne feeling bereft and denied a proper farewell. Which was ridiculous, because she’d only ridden the animal for two halves of a day. Even so, it was one step closer to saying farewell to her companions, and that depressed her.

  “We’re going to drop our things at the hostel, then go straight to Master Fontanna’s to deliver the artifact,” Dianthe was telling Kalanath. “You’re welcome to come along, but it’s not necessary.”

  “Why not offer the other artifacts to this Master Fontanna?” said Perrin. He tied his hair more securely out of his eyes and added, “He certainly sounds as if he can afford them.”

  “We have a dealer we trade with. She gets first crack at what we find with the understanding that she’ll give us the best possible deal. But if she doesn’t want them, Master Fontanna will be the second we talk to.”

  “Very well. You may leave word for me at Pasotti’s tavern, and Pasotti will know how to reach me.” Perrin bowed low to each of them in turn. “It has been a genuine pleasure.”

  “That is so,” Kalanath said. “You know how to find me. I would choose to work with you again.”

  Sienne was sure this was the highest praise he could give. She wished she dared suggest they work together again immediately, but that was stupid. There was no job, not even the possibility of a job. This was just loneliness talking.

  “Thanks again, and good luck to you,” Alaric said, offering his hand to each man. With a wave and a nod respectively, Perrin and Kalanath left the stable yard, turning opposite directions at the gate and disappearing into the crowd.

  Alaric turned to Sienne. “What, you’re still here?”

  It hurt, and she wasn’t sure why, since his smile showed he wasn’t serious. She flashed a smile of her own and said, “I’m staying at Master Tersus’s too, remember? And I’m curious about Master Fontanna. I want to see this through to the end.”

  “It was a joke, Sienne,” Alaric said, one huge hand resting briefly on her shoulder. “Let’s stow our gear, and get cleaned up, and then we’ll satisfy your curiosity.”

  Relieved, Sienne followed Alaric and Dianthe through the streets. Fat drops of rain fell occasionally, spattering her face, but the clouds failed to let fall their burdens, and they made it to Master Tersus’s house without getting drenched.

  “I’ll show you where the bath house is, Sienne,” Dianthe said. “Don’t take too long. His cistern isn’t more than average sized.”

  “Oh, then you should go first. I can warm the water myself.”

  “No, I want a quick nap. I’ll go last.”

  The bath house was actually a stone-walled room that backed off the kitchen’s enormous fireplace. It would be comfortable in winter, when the storms howled off the harbor. At the moment, it was stuffy and damp, and Sienne’s filthy scalp itched from the moisture in the air. It had a tub big enough for her to sit in, and she scrubbed herself clean and rinsed thoroughly, conscious of the need to hurry. She’d had a bath like this at home, only porcelain instead of copper, and no one used it but her. It was a luxury she didn’t mind giving up.

  She dried herself, dressed in the clothes she’d left behind, which were beautifully clean, and ran into Alaric in the hall. He had a bundle of clothes in one arm and a towel over the other. “Sorry,” she said.

  “That was fast.”

  “I—yes. I didn’t want to dawdle.”

  “Master Fontanna’s not going anywhere.” He scratched his head. “I never appreciate bathing so much as when I get back from the wilderness. And to think I used to fight my mother over it.”

  Sienne had never thought
of Alaric as having a mother. It was ridiculous, everyone had a mother, but he always seemed to have sprung fully-formed out of the earth itself. “I think most children do that.”

  “Probably. Though I—” He laughed, somewhat self-consciously. “I haven’t thought of that in years.”

  “You must…” Embarrassed, she let her words die away.

  “Must what?”

  “I was going to say, you must miss your family, but that’s presumptuous of me.”

  “I miss them. But I’d rather not talk about it. It’s…” His eyes focused on something far distant from this narrow corridor, damp with condensation from Sienne’s bath. “There’s a possibility they were punished for my running away. I can’t remember them without remembering my guilt.”

  “I understand. I mean, I can’t possibly understand what you’ve been through, but I do understand having good memories tangled up with bad ones.”

  “Right.” He blinked, and turned his attention on her. “You sure you want to come with us to see Master Fontanna? It’s not really your responsibility.”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like this, and she now wondered if this were a hint she wasn’t getting. “If you don’t want me to, I’ll stay behind.”

  “No. It’s just that he’s a busy man, and we’re likely to have a long wait.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  He smiled and shook his head in mock despair. “Suit yourself, but I know I’d send Dianthe on her own if I didn’t like having both kidneys in working order.”

  Sienne laughed. Alaric shouldered past her and shut the bath house door.

  Back in her room, she emptied her pack and put her dirty clothes into it. She might find a launderer somewhere close, and get that taken care of before it was time to leave. Dianthe’s door was partly open, and Sienne could hear her snoring, so she probably had time. She hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Leofus sat leaning against the wall, his ubiquitous spoon on the counter next to him. He was reading a book and acknowledged her entrance with the barest flick of his gaze toward her.