Dance of Thieves (Dance of Thieves 1)

Her gaze was fixed on the bloody water trickling down the tub toward the drain. “I don’t know the way!”

“Don’t worry, you won’t get far before someone stops you—say you have a terrible headache and need something for pain. Ask for serpent’s claw, capsain—anything. I need to be back on my feet before the party.” If the captain was indeed holed up at Tor’s Watch, we were hoping he would be among the guests.

“There’s one other thing,” I said, grabbing Wren’s arm before she left. “The man who tailed me today? He hasn’t always worked for the Ballengers. He used to be a Previzi driver.”

Wren shook her head. “Are you sure? I didn’t recognize him.”

“I’m sure,” I said, and told them he was the driver who had brought the tiger to the jehendra all those years ago. “I think he recognized me too.”

“That’s impossible,” Synové said. “No one even knew you stole it.”

Wren blew out a worried sigh. “But she did have a reputation. She was always suspect.”

“But she has breasts now! Hips! She doesn’t even look the same.”

I kept telling myself that too. I had changed. I had meat on me now. My cheeks were no longer hollow caves. I was barely the same person at all. But his eyes had been anchored onto mine, and in that moment I had seen something flicker in his memory. “If he’s here at Tor’s Watch, or at the party tonight, avoid him. And if he says anything, tell him I was a barrow runner for Sanctum Hall. Steer him in that direction. Deny anything else.”

/> Wren nodded and left. While she was gone, Synové carefully wrapped my leg. Just the pressure of the cloth pressing against the wounds made the throb worse.

“They need sewing, Kazi,” Synové said apologetically. I didn’t answer. Sewing was out of the question. A one inch tear could heal without being sewn up. Her eyes became watery. “I had a dream the night you disappeared. I saw you tumbling in water and you were drowning, but I never saw this. These damn dreams! They’re worthless.” She wiped angrily at her lashes.

I reached out and grabbed her hand. “I did tumble in water, Syn. And I did almost drown. Your dreams were right.”

Her brow shot up. “Was it him who saved you?”

“Yes. More than once. He protected me against a bear, and he carried me across blistering sand. Have you had any other dreams?”

She bit her lip, hesitant. “I dreamed you were chained in a prison cell.”

“That’s not so surprising. I have been before. Sometimes dreams are only dreams, Synové. You were worried about me.”

“But in my dream you were soaked in blood. I wasn’t sure if you were alive.”

“I promise, I have no intention of spending time in a prison cell ever again. It was only a dream.” I hoped.

Wren returned with a tiny vial of crystals. It looked like simple salt. I sniffed skeptically, but there was no scent. She said Mason had intercepted her at the end of a hallway just as I had predicted. He led her to the kitchen and then searched through a storage room for the crystals. He poured some from a large canister into the vial for her. “He called it birchwings and said to mix it with water and drink it to ease pain.”

Synové snorted. “Mason? I should have gone for the medicine.”

“How much do I take?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Wren answered. “Half of it? Maybe just a spoonful?” Her face twisted with worry. “I’m not sure he said.”

At this point, I didn’t care. I just wanted the pain to stop. Synové poured a quarter of it into a cup of water. The glass shivered in my hand as I downed the flavorless potion. They helped me to the bed and I lay down, my foot elevated on a pillow. Wren smoothed the hair from my face and lay beside me. Synové crawled onto the end of the bed, her hand rubbing my uninjured foot, and she began commenting on the accommodations to fill the silence. I smiled as she assessed the heavy blue drapes that surrounded Jase’s bed. Oh, the stories I bet these could tell …

* * *

They told me I slept solid for two hours.

When I sat up, my leg was stiff and oddly heavy like it wasn’t my own, but the pain was gone. There was only a mild throb when I swung my foot over the side of the bed and put weight on it. I held up the birchwings vial with supreme admiration. “I’ll be sure to bring this along tonight in case I need more.”

“Nope,” Wren said, snatching it from my hand. “It’s also what knocked you out cold for the last two hours.” I eyed the deceivingly benign vial in Wren’s hand. Powerful crystals like that could be useful. “Unless, of course,” Wren added, “you want that Ballenger boy carrying you back to your room?”

Synové winked. “Of course she does.” She turned, waving to the side. “Look what came while you were out.”

Laid out across the armchair were three dresses.

“The yellow one is mine,” Synové beamed. “I already tried it on. It fits in all the right places—if you know what I mean.”