Lhind the Thief (12 page)

“Good day,” he said. “I’m Mardi, third page. The Scribe told
me to stay with you till you were done eating, then bring you to the Gold
Suite.”

“Good,” I said, pointing to the food. “Prepare for a wait.”

His eyes rounded as he surveyed the empty tins and the pile
waiting to be eaten. “Will you eat all that?”

I shrugged. “If I don’t, I’ll stash it for later.”

“Later?”

“Sure. Never know when you’ll eat next.”

His surprised face told me not only had he always known when
he would eat next, he also thought it a very dull arrangement. He looked at me
again more closely. “Whose ’prentie are you, and what d’ya do?”

“Nobody’s,” I said, taking a huge bite of a chocolate tart.
“I’m a thief.”

His gaze ran over me again, this time with a kind of wary
respect. “What have you—”

“Ask me when we leave. Now I want to eat. Tell me about
being a page.”

He shrugged a shoulder impatiently, still eyeing my filthy
Thesreve-style clothes. Then he straightened up, and I knew that, poor as the
job seemed to him, he was going to do his best to impress me. “I’m third page this
year. Residence and first floor runs. Next year, perhaps, council and then
throne room runs. And then equerry, with my own horse. And already I have half
the map memorized,” he added proudly. “
And
I speak a lot of Chelan, and some Elras.” He blinked. “The Scribe told me to
speak Chelan, but you seem to know our language—Allendi.”

I shrugged, fighting the alarm that was quick to bang at my
heart whenever someone seemed to think I was outside whatever they regarded as
normal.

It’s all right. I’m safe now,
it seems
. “Picked it up once. So you’ll be a messenger, is that it?”

He nodded, going on to disparage some of the other pages,
illustrating with mistakes they’d made in delivery or protocol.

As I listened, I considered the idea of becoming a
messenger. After all, I was good with horses and I could speak any language I
heard. That would be an honest living, and a fun one, if I decided to retire
from thievery someday. And I wouldn’t have to stay around any one place or
person long enough to be betrayed.

I think I’ll ask Hlanan about it. I know he’ll be
pleased.

This idea delighted me so much I decided to put it into
action at once. “Let’s go,” I said, sweeping the remains of my meal into my
already-greasy tunic pocket for later.

His eyes widened at this, his approval now vast. But he said
nothing, striding out briskly so that I had to hop to keep pace. He was maybe
half a head taller than I and his legs were much longer than mine.

We left the servants’ area with the whitewashed walls and
clay floors and entered the marble-floored, elegant palace. Air moved along
through wide archways decorated with carved vines, above each one a cartouche
with Rajanas’s stylized wheat sheaf in its center.

We hustled past tapestries and mosaics, Mardi naming the
official functions of impressive state chambers, then we galloped up a long,
curving marble staircase and down another hall.

Finally we entered a room with a huge carpet of ivory, brown
and gold vines twined together. Overhead hung a crystal chandelier as big as a
chair, and the furniture was all thin curving legs with inlaid gold. At one
side six tall windows let in streams of slanting light, which reached the
carved door opposite.

Hlanan stepped through that door, his face calm but his eyes
more serious than I’d ever seen. “Thank you, Mardi,” he said. “Lhind—” He
indicated the door behind him.

“I just got a great idea,” I said cheerily as I preceded him
into a small room. “From Mardi. It’s about what I could do that’s perfectly
honest—”

On that word, something strong but invisible closed an icy
vice around my heart.

The door clicked shut behind me.

I whirled around, but the invisible bands pulled tighter,
leaving me gasping for air.

I was trapped.

What had I just been thinking
about trust?
My inner
voice wailed.

I hadn’t so much as tried to escape, just walked right in,
expecting anything but outright betrayal.

Through the black dots swimming across my vision I cast a
desperate look around me. About two hand-spans in from each corner of the small
room, forming a kind of square, tall white candles sat in silver pots. I knew
they were somehow involved with magic—more magic than I’d ever felt in one
place, at one time. With each movement I made, some kind of strong binding
spell dragged at me from inside.

I turned again, slowly, and found Hlanan. He stood outside
the square, between two windows, with his back to a wall. Except for that awful
bruise visible between locks of hair straggling on his forehead, he was pale as
death, still dressed in his dirty clothes from our run.

Hlanan stood there watching me intently with a thin silver
wand lying across both his palms. The wand had a jewel at either end, each gem
a dizzying swirl of colors. He’d obviously come straight up here and spent all
the time I was eating in setting up this trap.

Just for me.

With my last breath I struggled to save myself. Instinct
prompted me, and anger gave me enough strength to shout with all the magic will
in me, “Open that door!”

The words came out like I’d yelled under water, but the
effect on Hlanan as he stared into the flaring jewels made him go paler. “Voice
cast, too,” he said softly. Then he raised unhappy eyes to me: “I’m desperately
sorry, Lhind, more than you’ll ever know, perhaps, but I
must
know who taught you that magic.”

“No one,” I wheezed, my breath even shorter.

“You did not learn those spells on your own, Lhind. It takes
a long time to master them, particularly without aids. Please don’t lie any
more. You’re bound in what we call a shren-square, within which you can do no
magic.”

I raised my hands, trying to bring a wind to blow out those
candles. My fingers tingled and glowed strangely, but no wind came. Hlanan’s
brows went up as he watched, but he said nothing, only waited.

The attempt closed the vice even tighter. My hands dropped to
my sides, impossibly heavy. I lifted my gaze past Hlanan to the window, for I
wanted to see the light before I died.

“Lhind,” Hlanan spoke again, moving the wand slightly. “Is
this another pretense?”

The vice eased a tiny bit. I sucked in a heavy breath,
though I feared it would crush my chest from the inside. Desperate, I forced my
anger and misery to harden and narrow into a thin, red-glowing arrow...

I knew his range—and I saw, then banished, the old memory of
the last time I did this, that figure writhing in those terrible flames in
Thesreve.

And I
thrust
—

And instead of striking out at Hlanan, a pain like a knife
with a fire-blade lanced behind my eyes. I yelped and dropped to my knees,
pressing against the increasing wintry heaviness with shaking fingers.

“Lhind,” Hlanan’s voice came, husky with emotion. “Mind cast
too? Lhind—child—I’m desolately shamed, but I cannot loosen this square until
you name your tutor!”

“I. Don’t. Have. One.” I ground the words out past the ice
slowly freezing jaw, brain, lips.

“I’ll try another spell,” he said slowly. “To sense how
you—Lhind?”

No longer able to bear my own weight, I fell forward,
sprawling on the cream-colored carpet. Another few heartbeats and I’d be unable
to move at all. I managed to look up at him, and I said, “I saved. You once.
Beg. You don’t. Kill. Me. By . . . fire.”
Like they do in Thesreve,
I thought, unable to get another word
past my lips.

My words seemed to hit him like my thrust had back-lashed at
me. His cheeks actually blanched to a faint greenish shade. “I’d never—” He
choked, clearly horrified, then he shook his head in perplexity, looking as
miserable as I felt. “This is just a shren-square,” he said. “Are you really so
distressed, or is this another act?” He flung the wand away and knelt at the
edge of the square, looking down at me with distress that echoed my own. “I
knew this would be bad, but I did not think—” He’d begun in another tongue,
switched to Chelan, then he stopped and stared at me. His expression changed
again and he said in the earlier language, “You understand me, don’t you?”

But I was beyond speech. The ice was slowly leeching away
the pain, leaving me numb. Behind Hlanan the windows grayed, and began to
darken.

“Lhind?” he said again, reaching toward me. My blurring gaze
was caught by his silver ring. In the light, the irregular bumps on its face
formed a pattern, suggesting almond-blossom petals. “Lhind,” Hlanan whispered.

My eyelids, now heavy beyond control, closed. Just before
consciousness slipped away entirely I heard an choked exclamation, and suddenly
the terrible weight lifted.

Rolling over, I lay flat, enjoying the sweetness of being
able to breathe freely.

I heard the rustle of cloth, and Hlanan knelt beside me.
“Lhind? I lifted the square.”

I got my eyes open. My lips were still numb. I worked them,
but got no words out.

Puzzled brown eyes studied me from under a brow shiny with
sweat. “Why did the shren have this effect on you? It merely binds—
magic
.” He whispered the last word, then cleared
his throat, but his voice shook as he asked, “Lhind, who
are
you?”

“Lhind.” I got it out all right—strength returned with each
breath, each wonderful, expansive, sweet breath.

He wiped his hand across his brow, then sighed, short and
sharp. “I shall have to send you directly to the Magic Council unless we can
come to some kind of understanding. I promise on my life I would
never
murder you, but you must understand that
someone with all these skills . . .” He lifted his hands. “You
look so confused, but you must know what I am saying.”

I shook my head, just a little, for the headache was not
quite gone. “I’m alone,” I whispered, too wretched even to lie. “Nobody taught
me. That I can remember. Don’t remember everything.”

His eyes widened and he sat back on his heels. His distracted
gaze went from me to the window and back to me again. “That magic is in you, is
that it?” he began cautiously.

I nodded. “But I don’t know why, or wherefrom. It’s just
always been there. That bird said . . .” Danger seemed to curl
around me, making it difficult to think.

“Tir?” he prompted gently. “Said what?”

“Called me something. Mind to mind,” I managed, though my
voice was nearly gone. “If whatever put it in me is bad . . . I
promise . . . not part of it . . . been alone
since I was small . . .” I gave up.

He touched my cowl. “Thianra says that your clothing is a
kind of disguise. Is she right?”

I didn’t see how denying it would help me any. He could put
me back in that square any time he liked. So I nodded.

He sighed again, this time with decision. “Tell you what.
You can go and change, get cleaned up, rest, whatever you want, and when you
come out, I invite you . . . I entreat you, but in no way wish
to constrain you to tell me everything you remember. Or you can go, and nobody
will stop you,” he said quickly. “I owe you that. I owe you more than that.” He
ran tense hands through his hair, making it wilder than before. He grimaced
when his fingers encountered that knot, then he dropped his hands and stepped
away, gazing at me with mute appeal.

I was trying to find my voice. No, I was trying to find the
thoughts to send to my voice.

To fill the silence, he said quickly, “Or I could send you
to the Council. They are not just a punitive group, not when there’s a
mystery.” He smiled slightly, a funny, lopsided sort of smile. “Or not! Lhind,
no one will guard you, or watch you. I expect you’ll never trust me again—and I
don’t blame you for that. I don’t know when I’ve ever made such a terrible
error.” Another deep breath. “So run off if you must, and we will not stop you.
But remember, you cannot run forever, and next time your magic might be noticed
by someone a lot more harmful than I must seem.”

He extended a hand, and after a hesitation I took it, and he
pulled me to my feet. Once again he gave me a funny look, but without further
speech he opened the door to the big room with the six windows and the
chandelier.

Rajanas was seated in one of the carved chairs, drinking
from a golden goblet. The room smelled pleasantly of cider and with a hint of
cinnamon. “So what did you find?” he addressed Hlanan.

Hlanan drew in a third unsteady breath. “Lhind seems to know
as much magic as I do. More. In certain skills, anyway. And speaks Allendi.
Beyond that, we know nothing.”

Rajanas gestured toward me with his goblet. “I’d suggest you
search him, but judging from that fight at the inn, it would take six of you to
tie him down. Perhaps you’d do better to obtain his cooperation first. Well,
thief?”

I looked from one to the other. What did I have to lose? I
could run, but Hlanan had said no more than the truth when he’d threatened that
someone worse could always catch up with me.

At any rate, he seemed to be done with threats. So if I
stayed, at least for a little while, I might find answers to some of the
questions that had shadowed me all my life. “All right,” I said.

Rajanas set down his goblet. “Then I suggest—for the good of
my household, if nothing else—that you begin with a bath. And after that, join
us for a meal.”

“I’ll take you to the bath chamber,” Hlanan said, looking
more relieved even than I felt. He led the way out, then murmured with some
embarrassment, “I take it that Thianra was correct about your masquerade. But
that doesn’t solve the magic questions.” He actually blushed.

I grinned, a little energy returning. “You mean you’ve
guessed that I’m not a boy?”