Dagger's Point (Shadow series) (19 page)

Tanis grimaced.

“I thought I’d really come up with a wonderful strategy,” he grumbled. “Most of the time back in Allanmere I worked with a partner. I’m not used to working alone.”

“Well, it was a good strategy, even if I saw it,” Jael reassured him. “I only saw it because I noticed you and was watching what you did. But I’ll help you, if you like. I’m no thief, but I don’t have to be one to jostle people or knock things over on them. I’m good at doing that, anyway.”

Tanis raised his eyebrows in thought, then sighed and shook his head.

“Better not,” he said. “Baaros knows it’s tempting, and I could use the help, but there are so few elves here, and none looking like you, that you’re fully memorable. People would start noticing that someone got robbed every time that odd-looking, clumsy elf was in the area, and then we’d be in trouble.”

“Well, I haven’t earned any more money,” Jael sighed. “I didn’t stumble across anybody else who needed spells broken. But I did get a look at Rhadaman’s shop, and he may even keep the book there. It was sitting on a shelf behind the counter when I was in the shop.”

“You went into his shop?” Tanis said, scowling. “Jaellyn, that was a foolish thing to do. He’ll remember you being there. Now when I go to have a look at the place, I’ll have to go alone so he won’t recognize you and figure out what we’re doing.”

“I really don’t think he even noticed me,” Jael argued. “And the book wasn’t locked up or anything. If we could get him out of the room for a moment, we could just grab the book with no trouble.”

“And what if he’s got it return-spelled?” Tanis asked.

“That’s what I’m there for,” Jael said patiently. “The book isn’t magical itself, so it should be safe for me to touch it, and if there’s a return spell on it, that should break the spell.”

“Hmmm.” Tanis raised his eyebrows, then smiled thoughtfully. “Jaellyn, how far do you have to be from a spell to break it?”

“It’s not so much distance,” Jael said after a moment’s thought. “Remember, I shattered all those light globes at the Temple of Baaros and I wasn’t in the room, just looking at them through a scrying ball. If I can see something to concentrate on, that usually works. But it’s not as sure as touching it. Why? If Rhadaman has wards on the shop or the book, I won’t be able to see them, and I’d have to be pretty close to sense that magic in particular. That shop’s fairly humming with magic.”

“No, no,” Tanis said quickly. “I just may have thought of a way for you to help me with a job after all, and without any danger of people noticing your presence. Let me think about it for a few moments.”

“All right,” Jael said eagerly. She’d occasionally gone with Aunt Shadow on some job or another just to watch—and
that
had stopped when Donya had found out about it—but she’d never been allowed to actually help.

“Your mother already thinks I’m corrupting you,” Shadow had said when Jael begged for the hundredth time. “She’d flay me with a dull knife if she ever thought I was turning the Heir toward a career in thievery.”

But Jael wasn’t the Heir anymore, and if she wanted to help Tanis with his thievery, she could do it if she liked—she could even
become
a thief if she liked, if she weren’t so clumsy and unlucky. Suddenly the heady sense of freedom seemed positivelyoverwhelming, and impulsively Jael turned and hugged Tanis, almost making him spill his ale.

“What’s that for?” Tanis asked surprisedly.

“I don’t know,” Jael said, laughing. “For being here. For being you. Because I’m happy. Now tell me how I can help you.”

“Well, for a start you can hug me like that again when I’m expecting it,” Tanis told her, grinning. “But for the rest, come and look.”

Tanis led her to the north side of the market and pointed wordlessly to one of the stalls. Jael glanced in the direction indicated, but hurriedly turned away when she realized the vendor sold nothing but light globes of various shapes and sizes, some plain, others cradled in ornate holders.

“You shouldn’t have brought me over here,” Jael muttered to Tanis even as she focused her attention
hard
on the bolts of cloth being sold at the booth nearest her. “What would have happened if—”

“I know,” Tanis said. “But look over there, the booth right beside it.”

Cautiously Jael looked. Next to the light-globe seller was another booth, this one selling fine leatherwork. What Tanis wanted her to see, however, was not the finely crafted vests, scabbards, and saddlery on display at the booth, but the
three
heavy purses hanging from the vendor’s belt.

“He’s had a good day’s sales,” Tanis murmured. “I watched him earlier, hoping for a chance to get close enough, but he’s smart—stays well back behind those tables and guards his wares like a dragon guards its hoard. But if I could be right there when there was a really spectacular distraction—”

“Like a whole stall of light globes exploding,” Jael said, understanding.

“—then in the confusion I could likely get the purses with no one the wiser,” Tanis finished, nodding. “I’ve seen at least three other thieves working this area, and they’re always close by. If there
was
a good distraction, they’d use it to lighten the marks closest to them, and that would draw attention away from me, too, even if the leather merchant raises an outcry afterward. I think I could get away completely unseen by ducking under the tables, then cutting around the basketweaver’s stall while everyone else was still panicking. When I was a good enough distance away, I could change into the new clothes you bought for me, scrub my face and put on my cap, and nobody would recognize me even if they saw me there. And you wouldn’t have to run, especially if you’d been quietly buying something a goodly distance away from the area. Just to be safest, you could linger in the market a little while longer—buy some of the supplies, maybe, that we’ll need—and I’d meet you back at the inn.”

Jael thought the plan through and found it sound enough.

“All right,” she said slowly. “It’s a good plan. But after we’re in place, I’m going to wait until there aren’t many people right in front of the light-globe booth. He’s got the sides and back of the booth draped with cloth to keep the sunlight out so people can see the globes work, but the front’s open, and I don’t want people hurt by flying glass. Besides, it’ll work more to your advantage if the crowd’s around the leather booth instead.”

“All right,” Tanis said, nodding. “But in that case, we’ll need a signal so I’ll know when to move near the stall; otherwise I’ll start looking suspicious standing around a booth selling expensive wares, and me so poor and grimy. When you’re ready, scratch your left ear, all right, and then count ten before you try.”

This was sensible. Tanis carefully slipped Jael the purses hidden in his tunic so the coins wouldn’t jingle, and Jael gave him the bundle of his new clothing. As Tanis worked his way leisurely toward the leather vendor, Jael wandered among the nearby stalls, glancing very briefly at the light-globe booth now and then. When she was satisfied that the crowd near the light globes was as thin as it was likely to get, she stopped at a nearby booth selling fried pastries and ordered three
fresh
pastries, if you please—it was a horrible bother to try to convey her wishes through gestures—tossed her coin on the table, then casually reached up to scratch her ear.

Jael counted slowly, then turned to stare directly at the light globes, concentrating on them with all her might. Almost immediately she felt the familiar tingling under her breastbone signaling the presence of magic, and she focused on that tingling, luxuriating in it, wanting more—

Suddenly one of the globes flared bright, then exploded with a loud BANG. Another followed, and another, spraying fragments of glass. A chip of glass stung Jael’s cheek, and she did not have to feign fear as she screamed and dropped to the ground. A bystander shrieked and jumped backward, upsetting the pastry vendor’s table. Hot oil splashed everywhere and a new volley of panicked screams split the air. A few searing droplets of oil spattered Jael’s hand and arm, and several shoppers kicked her in their panic, but Jael only scuttled under the fallen table, her hands pressed protectively over her face as explosion followed explosion at the globe booth. At last there were no further explosions, and Jael dared to glance out between her fingers.

Thankfully, nobody seemed much hurt by the flying glass; everyone in front of the light-globe stall had had the sense to go to

ground at the first explosion, many finding cover under tables or behind counters or stacks of goods. As a few bolder people dared to stand again, however, there was considerable confusion. Some bystanders stayed to hurl invectives at the unhappy light-globe vendor, but most simply wanted to leave the area as quickly as they could. Tanis had been right, however; it was quickly discovered that several purses had gone missing during the chaos, including those of the leather merchant.

Jael quickly brushed herself off and offered the luckless pastry vendor a hand up from the ground, even helping him to right his table.

“I won’t ask for my coppers back, even though you can see I’m burned by your oil,” Jael said sternly, “but I’m going to stand right here and wait while you heat fresh oil and cook my pastries, do you understand?”

The poor pastry vendor understood not a word that Jael said, but her peremptory tone and gestures were unmistakable, and he hurriedly heated the oil, giving Jael an extra pastry by way of an apology.

The sun was setting, and Jael had no desire to try to find her way back to the inn again after dark, so she put off buying supplies for the next day and hurried back to the inn. Tanis was waiting for her in a quiet corner of the public room, a bowl of stew and a tankard of ale in front of him, looking mightily pleased with himself. Jael waited, however, until the innkeeper had brought her her own supper before she asked Tanis if all had went as planned.

“Couldn’t have been better,” Tanis assured her, keeping his voice low. “I’d wager every copper I’ve ever had that nobody noticed me before or after, and certainly not while glass was flying everywhere. I’ll show you something when we get back to our room.”

Jael ate her stew, but found she had little appetite for it. Truth to tell, she was beginning to feel vaguely guilty about her part in Tanis’s theft. True, nobody apparently had been much hurt, not even the light-globe vendor, but someone
could
have been. And the vendor’s entire stock of light globes had been destroyed. The only mage of any note in the city was Rhadaman, so the unfortunate vendor would likely have to ship in a new stock from the east.

Later, in their room, however, Tanis waved aside Jael’s concern

“If he has to ship all his globes in from the east, he’d have shipped in plenty more than the two dozen or so you saw in his stall,” Tanis told her. “Go back and look tomorrow, and I’ll wa ger he’s brought out more from storage. Besides, I’ve never seen a law against looking hard at light globes. You never even touched them, and it’s not as though you cast a spell-completely the opposite, really.”

“I don’t know,” Jael said glumly. “Somehow I don’t think Aunt Shadow would approve.”

“You’re right,” Tanis said, nodding. “Shadow wouldn’t have exploded the light globes. She’d have robbed the leather crafter, the light-globe seller, the merchants at the next four booths, and every rich noble in the crowd, too, but she wouldn’t have broken the light globes. But I’m not Shadow, and we poor fumbling hu mans have to do what we can to make a living as a thief. Now do you want to see what I got, or do you really want to sit then and whip yourself raw for helping me get it?”

Jael sighed, but relented, and Tanis proudly pulled not three but five purses from his sleeve.

“I got the leather merchant’s purses without any trouble at all,” Tanis told her, “so I grabbed two more on my way out through the crowd. I saw at least four other Guild members tak ing advantage of the ruckus, too. I haven’t counted the coin yet—wanted you to touch the pouches first, just in case there might be trap-spells on them. That merchant was so careful, wouldn’t be surprised.”

Jael obediently held each of the pouches, felt no tingle of magic, and told Tanis so. They eagerly opened the purses and dumped the coins on the bed between them, gasping at the quan tity of Suns mingling with the coppers and Moons.

“Well, that’s it,” Tanis said, shaking his head. “I’m not steal ing so much as another copper while we’re here. I don’t know how much the other thieves got, but all this money stolen at once is going to make the merchants very, very careful for a while

Anyway, we won’t need any more than this, so there’s no need to be greedy.”

“What about the book?” Jael asked doubtfully. “We still have to steal that. Or at least try to steal it.”

“We’ll get the book,” Tanis said confidently. “Tomorrow I’ll go to the shop and see what I can learn. We’ll do the actual pickup the night before the boat leaves for Tilwich. By the time the mage opens his shop, we’ll already be gone.”

The casual tone of Tanis’s voice worried Jael. Rhadaman was obviously a very powerful mage, and powerful mages were not careless people. Rhadaman wouldn’t have a book as dangerous and valuable as the Book of Whispering Serpents sitting openly in his shop unless he believed it was safe there. And the book wouldn’t still be there in his shop after all these years unless it actually
was
safe there.

Tanis suggested a taste of Bluebright to celebrate their first joint theft, but Jael declined. She gave Tanis the excuse that it might be unwise to take another dose so soon after the last, and that was true enough. In her heart, however, Jael still wondered if their theft was in fact an accomplishment that should be celebrated. It somehow didn’t feel like something to be proud of.

Tanis was too pleased with his day’s thefts to be annoyed by Jael’s refusal, and when he curled up beside her, he was quickly asleep. For Jael, however, sleep came less easily, and when she finally dozed off, she dreamed uneasily. The green of the forest closed around her, but it was not the sweet and welcoming forest she’d known. Now the press of leaves, of trees, of innumerable living things around her began to suffocate her, their very living presence an assault. Suddenly the green chaos faded and she sank deep into stone, into welcome silence and darkness lit only by a poignant memory of fire that burned at the heart of the world. That fire flowed through her veins as it had once flowed through the rock, filling her with strength and power, binding her into wholeness—