Dance of Thieves (Dance of Thieves 1)

“I don’t know where they are.”

“Kazi—”

“I don’t know, Jase. I swear.”

He studied me. Whatever he saw, it had to be truth, because I didn’t know where they were now. Not exactly. I guessed they were on the move, probably from one crumbled ruin to another on the outskirts of town. And whenever I did make contact with them, they needed to remain out of the Ballengers’ sights. I might be inside Tor’s Watch, but I needed them on the outside and not under scrutiny.

He finally moved past the subject of missing Rahtan and said we needed to catch up with his family. He checked my cinch and handed the reins over to me. He looked at my boots as if still taking in the changes—our long days of walking barefoot together were over. “This time yesterday—”

“I know,” I said. “We were still chained together.”

“A day can change everything, can’t it?”

“Less than a day,” I answered. “A spare minute can send us careening down a new path and turn our lives upside down.”

He stepped closer. “Is that what your life is right now, Kazi?” he asked. “Upside down?”

Utterly and completely, but I answered the way I should. “Not at all. I’m a soldier who is now a guest in a very comfortable home, and we have struck up an agreement that will be advantageous to my kingdom—if you plan to keep your word.”

Distaste sparked in his eyes at the reminder of the reparations and resettling of the Vendans. “My word is good,” he grumbled, and he got up on his horse.

“I can’t promise when or if she will come, you know?”

He nodded. “I know. But you’ve made a good-faith effort. We can’t ask for more than that.”

Good faith.

I slipped my foot into Mije’s stirrup, settled into the saddle, then nudged him forward with a touch from my knee. The straza who had hung back waiting for us followed behind. We were just past the gates when Jase asked how I had slept last night. Polite talk. Something I supposed people who lived in fine houses asked guests.

I guessed that a polite response was required even though I had barely slept at all. I couldn’t reveal to Jase the reason why his comfortable room gave me no rest. It seemed that having his lovely cave of a bed wasn’t enough after all. It was still missing something. Him. He had become a bad habit. Too quickly, I’d become accustomed to the weight of his arm around me, the feel of his chest at my back, his whispers in my ear as I dozed off to sleep. Tell me another riddle, Kazi … If not for his books, I might not have dozed at all.

“Fine,” I answered, “and you?”

“I slept well. It was good to finally sleep in a soft bed instead of on hard ground.”

It wasn’t so hard. I remembered him commenting on the thick grass or the beds of leaves that rustled beneath us. He had liked it then. I was strangely disappointed by his answer. It was all so quickly left behind. Leaves. Grass. Us. And yet, that was exactly what I had counted on. I had told myself over and over again that it would soon be behind us, that everything we said and did was all right, because it was only temporary. It was our way to make the best of it. My own feelings had become a thorny riddle for which I had no answer.

The road traversing back and forth down to Hell’s Mouth was steep. I couldn’t let Mije break into a gallop until we hit level ground, but when I finally gave him free lead, he was a black specter not tied to this earth, his gait so swift and steady, he became a dark wind flying down the road and I was part of that wind. Jase worked to keep up, and the pounding, the noise, the strain in my thighs and calves as I lifted in the stirrups, the thump in my heart and bones made me feel alive, and the moment was all there was, and the answers to riddles were forgotten in the trail of dust behind us.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

KAZI

As soon as we arrived in Hell’s Mouth, I was whisked away by Vairlyn, Priya, Jalaine, Nash, and Lydia—a whole troop of us heading toward the dressmaker.

“Don’t keep her long,” Jase had called after us, an exasperated expression darkening his face. It was obvious this was not part of his plan, but apparently a Patrei’s mother and sisters could override even him in some matters.

Vairlyn said it would be best to get the visit out of the way first thing so there would be time for the dressmaker to get some alterations done. She thought it necessary for me to have a few clothes of my own for my stay in Hell’s Mouth—instead of just borrowed ones. I had to agree, especially in regard to underclothes. I promised to pay her back, but she waved me off saying it was the least she could do after I had helped her son escape the labor hunters.

Guilt riddled through me. She had no idea that I’d been forced to help him and that my intent was to use him for my own purposes. My goals and loyalties hadn’t changed. Ever since the queen had asked me to find this fugitive, I had imagined the grand moment I would hand the elusive traitor over. You can make some things right. The moment had grown in my thoughts. It became a color that gleamed behind my eyes, a silver stitch in a wound that would close a gash that had been open for too long or a golden stone in a tall wall that would finally erase my mistakes. I needed to believe that maybe even a worthless little crapcake like me could make a difference that mattered in this world. It became a deep need and I worried—what if the Watch Captain had already vanished? What if he wasn’t here at all? Sometimes people vanished and no matter how badly you wanted to find them, they were never seen again.

It was disquieting to be drawn into their family circle. I was certainly good enough at conversation—it was one of the tools of my trade. When I was forced to engage a merchant instead of just slipping away with my pilfered goods, I had to redirect their thoughts, make them so transfixed by something that they could perceive nothing else—like the labor hunter who was so intent on the answer to the riddle I withheld, he forgot he even had keys at his side.

But this was different. It felt far more intimate, their chatter, their laughter, the touching and nudging. It didn’t seem right that I should be in the middle of it, and yet it intrigued me the way listening to a foreign language might, trying to understand the nuances behind their words. They held fabric up to my face and asked me what I thought. I didn’t know. I left the decisions to them.

The dressmaker quickly took measurements, and fabrics were chosen. The only other time I had been fitted for clothes was as a Rahtan soldier. We didn’t have uniforms. We chose our own clothing, and I chose carefully. I missed my boots and the shirt I had been forced to shred in order to cross Bone Channel, but most of all I missed my leather waistcoat the hunters had ripped from my possession while I was unconscious. It wasn’t exactly like Jase’s ring, but it was symbolic of something—the revered thannis of Venda was gracefully embossed across the deep bronze leather. It was the most beautiful item of clothing I had ever owned. Growing up, I had only known layers of rags covering my back, and I was lucky to have those. Vairlyn spoke quietly with the dressmaker for a few moments while I entertained Lydia and Nash with a shell game using the dressmaker’s thimbles.