Lhind the Thief (13 page)

His gaze turned to the opposite wall, as if he’d just
discovered a treasure there and if he looked away it would vanish.

I chortled. “If you have to guess anything, you’re
supposed
to guess that I’m just a female in
disguise. You’re supposed to think that’s my only secret.” And when he looked
at me in puzzlement, I said, “I switched when I reached Thesreve. Because,
well, I was tired of being a girl. There were reasons. I’ve switched back and
forth several times.”

He looked if possible more embarrassed.

I shrugged, trying not to laugh. “So you’re asking me about
clothes. I’d like one of those tunics, the ones slit on the sides, with the
billowy trousers. I don’t wear shoes.”

He wiped his brow again, now plainly relieved. Then he
stopped and opened a door. “Here. Through that door is the water. I’ll have
someone bring things to this room.” He hesitated, then went out abruptly.

I sighed, rubbing my tired eyes. As I’d said, I was just as
comfortable as a boy as a girl. The one thing I had always been careful to hide
was what kind of girl. Which they would see when I came out of that bath.

But I could always run.

I took in the rooms. The outer chamber was tiled, with two
arched windows. A fireplace set in the wall opposite. Beyond it was another
room, also with a window. These rooms formed a corner of the palace. Into the
middle of the second chamber’s floor, which was also tiled in a pleasing
pattern of blue and gold and brown, was built a long pool.

I walked up to the edge and stared down into the water,
which rilled to the edge of the tiles. One end was very deep, and the other
shallow; at the shallow end a low fountain sent a steady stream of gently
steaming water pouring into the pool. How did it not overflow? Pacing to the
other end again, I saw a hole at the bottom of the pool. The water must run
continually in and out again.

Suddenly my entire body was one giant itch, and I flung off
my clothes, only taking care that my tools and take did not get jumbled with the
food I’d stashed, then I dove in.

My hair and tail stretched in the swirling warm water, and I
gloried in having them free for the first time in close to a year. I swam down
to the bottom and stretched out, letting my tail and spine hair wave in the current.
It was exquisite.

When I came up for air I saw two mounds of soft soap lying
on shells on a tile tray. One was yellow and gritty and smelled of streams and
sun-washed herbs. The other soap was soft, gray, and smelled of some kind of
perfume. I scooped up a handful of the yellow one and used it to scrub myself
all over.

When I was done I swam about happily for a time. At length I
climbed out, and shook myself. Water flew off in all directions, sparkling in
the afternoon light streaming in the window. My hair lifted and settled several
times, until it was a damp silver-blue cloud around my head and body, barely
damp.

Going back into the other room, I found a big towel laid on
the bench, next to some folded clothing. I used it to mop up the worst of the puddle
I’d made in fluffing myself, then I turned my attention to the clothes.

They were made of heavy watered silk, a pale spring green
embroidered with almond and cherry blossoms. The trousers had wide legs. I
pulled them on backwards, so my tail could poke through the hole where the
tie-string tied. Then I yanked on the tunic, which settled like a silken weight
against me, reaching down below my knees. I wore this backward as well, so as
much of my spine hair as possible came free of the open neckline. After the
confining heaviness of my Thesrevan clothes, this was like wearing air. Last I
tied loosely about my waist the wide, silky sash I’d been given, and I surveyed
myself with satisfaction.

The only problem, I realized very quickly, was the lack of
pockets in which to put my stash. So I rolled it all into my old clothes and
tucked them under my arm.

I turned toward the door, but when I reached it I stopped,
my nerves chilling. When was the last time anyone had seen my hair and tail
free? The last time came very clearly—which made my stomach curdle with fear.

You can always run
, I
told myself.
Look at this as a dare
.

I slipped out into the hallway, and retraced my steps, back
to that big room where Mardi had first brought me.

I heard them before I saw them, and I paused in the doorway,
looking in. The three of them were there, sitting at a low table covered with
fine porcelain dishes. Hlanan had changed and bathed, tying his wet hair back
neatly off his high brow. He looked like a scribe again, his slim form mostly
obscured by an open gray robe. It was the scribe’s summer garb, the robe
sleeveless, worn over a loose-sleeved shirt of undyed cotton-silk, and gray
loose trousers of the same fabric as the scribe robe.

Rajanas no longer glittered with gems. He’d dressed to fit
his status, but his burgundy-colored tunic was only tied with a gold sash,
without embellishment. Beneath it, he wore a silk shirt of black, and dark
riding trousers stuffed into his boots.

Thianra had gotten rid of her toff clothes and had donned
her bright minstrel-blue robe, worn over floating trousers not unlike what I
wore. She had braided her hair and bound it around her head. When I saw her, my
scalp lifted in memory-protest, and my hair swirled around me.

It was then that Hlanan looked up, and his jaw dropped.

Thianra turned, her eyes startled. Rajanas lifted his brows
and said wryly, “If you are indeed Lhind, that was a
very
effective disguise.” He turned to Thianra.
“I congratulate you on your powers of observation.”

I felt strange under their triple gaze, so I held up my roll
and said, “I’ve got nowhere to put my stash.”

“That’s your Lhind, all right.” Rajanas’s voice was ironic,
but his gaze was not unfriendly. He saluted me with his goblet, and added,
“Come join us, Young Mistress. I never thought I’d entertain someone quite
so . . . ornamental.”

“I only guessed a part of your secrets, Lhind,” Thianra said
apologetically. “Well, two parts. But
that
,
I had no idea,” watching as my hair lifted, clouding around my head and
shoulders.

I flexed inside and forced it to settle, but my spine
twitched and up it all went again, as if my hair, so long confined, gloried in
freedom as much as I did.

“Hrethan,” Hlanan murmured.

The word seemed to take shape in the air, making them all
fall silent.

Rajanas was the first to speak. He rubbed his jaw, frowning,
then said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I understood
their . . . their fur and hair to be blue. And blue eyes.”

Thianra nodded slowly, her gaze steady. “That’s true. But
Lhind’s hair is the silvery blue of the Snow Folk. They are nearly invisible
against the blue-white snows of the heights. Just as the darker gray-blue of
the island Hrethan make them difficult to see against the water if they don’t
want to be seen.” She looked puzzled. “Though I’ve never seen one with eyes the
color of honey.”

“My fuzz’s the same color as my hair,” I said, yanking up my
sleeve, and showing them the fine short silver-blue hair that covered me from
my neck down to my wrists and ankles.

They stared at my arm, so different from the browns and
pinks and bronzes of humankind.

Hlanan still gazed intently at me.

“Stash?” Rajanas repeated belatedly.

“Yeah. Knife, burglar’s tools, herbs, food. And, uh, money
and jewels.”

Rajanas slid a hand over his eyes, his shoulders shaking
with silent laughter.

Thianra’s eyes quirked, shining with a liquid gleam—tears
had gathered along her lower eyelids. “You’re still our Lhind,” she said with a
breathless chuckle. “I think Ilyan will give you a room, and you can leave your
things there. No one here will touch them, I think I can safely promise.”

Rajanas turned to Hlanan. “Well? Is this what you expected
in addition to the—entirely understandable, considering Thesreve—swap of female
mage for male thief?”

Hlanan just shook his head, then he frowned and tossed off a
glass of the cider in his golden goblet. “All right,” he said, taking a deep
breath. “The first thing, I think, is to contact the Council. They can send a
message to the Hrethan. Yes, I really think that’s what we should do. If you’re
willing, that is, Lhind.”

“But what about—” I snuck a look at the others. “The job?”

Hlanan shook his head. “I think that’s impossible now.”

To my surprise, Rajanas said, “Why? Shut your eyes to the
vision before you, and think back to the fight in the inn. We’ve merely
exchanged a dirty thief for a clean one. If Lhind still wants the job, she can
disguise herself again. In fact I think that might be advisable.”

Hlanan was rubbing his thumb over the bumps on his ring, a
restless gesture. “Impossible because now that I have had a little time to
consider, I believe that Geric Lendan got to that book first. The more I think
about his insisting on joining us on the yacht, the more suspicious I am. I do
know that someone used magic to summon those pirates, but I cannot prove who or
how, merely that it was a fairly powerful spell to break my wards.” He turned
my way. “But that is a matter for another time. Lhind, you say you don’t know
wherefrom you came. What do you remember of your origins?”

I shrugged, and this time they all watched my hair cloud,
then settle down my back. “Not much.” The desire to have my questions answered
was nearly as compelling as the wish to be free of the confining cowl.

And yet, I was still afraid. Secrets had been as much a part
of my armor as the cowl. Perhaps even deeper was my reluctance to mention the
Blue Lady. Maybe she wasn’t a real memory. She might have been no more than a
dream I’d made up to be comforting when times were bad.

So I began with the memories that I was certain of.

“I was with some people. Traveling ones. Cotton harvesters.
They first dressed me as a boy, and I got used to it, I guess. They got angry
when I tried to take the clothes off or stretch my hair, or my tail. And the
first shimmer I made, the man—I don’t remember his name beyond that he wanted
me to call him Papa—beat me so bad I was in my bunk for four days. Later I
wondered if in off-season they were slavers, or sold slaves once in a while.

“Anyway, I felt danger whenever any of them talked about me.
After the shimmer he started tying my hands at night. So one night during a
very bad storm I ran away. That part was easy. Figuring out how to live wasn’t,
and I ran into a lot of trouble along the way. But I learned.” I shrugged. “I
found I had only to hear other tongues and I could speak them, and I could call
animals to my aid. One winter I spent with a den of wolves. They didn’t eat me
because I could make fire-shimmers, and I didn’t want their food. I guarded the
cubs. They let me be part of the pack, but it was very hard to get enough for
me to eat, because I couldn’t abide their food. So I left in spring, and went
south.”

“What brought you to Thesreve, of all places?” Thianra
asked.

“Running. After I left Piwum, I got chased by some poke-nose
who saw my shimmers and wanted my magic. Decided I was best off in a place
where magic wasn’t—well, looked for. Liked being a thief. Was good at it, I’m
fast, I can jump, and I didn’t have to talk to anybody.”

“But you can’t be a thief for the rest of your life,” Hlanan
protested earnestly.

I grinned at him. “Well, I was about to tell you my idea
when you stuck me in that nasty magic-trap. I think I’d like to be a messenger.
I like horses, and new places, and I can speak any tongue I want to. And it’s
honest.” I finished triumphantly.

Rajanas laughed, and Thianra smiled, but Hlanan looked
serious.

“Maybe,” he said. “But first you must go to the Hrethan.”

“So tell me,” I responded. “Who are they?”

Hlanan seemed nonplussed. Rajanas merely raised his goblet
again, and studied the fine etching along its edge. It was Thianra who answered
me.

“They are people, kin to the humankind we see in greater
numbers.” She pressed her fist to her chest, and opened her hand toward the two
fellows. “It is said that they came from another world centuries ago. They live
in the mountains beyond Liacz, and on Starborn Island, far north in the Sea of
Storms where snow falls most of the year. Other people of great magic live
there as well, according to report. I know no one who has actually been to the
heights, we only know the ones at the Summer Islands, as they are called, for
Hlanan studied magic there. They are known by several names. Hrethan is just
one. Snow Folk is another common one. They are supposed to have first settled
Charas al Kherval, according to legend.”

Hlanan rubbed his eyes again. “How long have you been on
your own?”

“Not certain,” I said. “I’ve tried to figure it out, but you
know, everyone counts the years differently in every country.”

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

I shook my head. Impossible to tell what was really memory,
and what was just vivid dream. I felt it safest to say little. “I remember
snow,” I said. “Music. Deep blue sky . . . wind.”

“Any people?” Hlanan asked.

“Don’t know,” I mumbled, thinking of the Blue Lady, and of
the single image I had of a tall, smiling man with long yellow hair. Those
images always came with a stir of intense emotion, too strong to talk about. I
was unsettled enough by all this . . . truth. As their eyes took
in who I really was.

“Do you remember any major events from Charas al Kherval or
any of the other kingdoms on this end of the continent?” Thianra asked.

This was much easier. “I remember the year Aulin Crown
died,” I said, thinking back. I was careful to use the proper name: on the
streets of Piwum on Dunleth’s side of the border, the old emperor had been
known as Aulin the Ugly. And worse. “That was the spring after I stayed with
the wolves. Everyone wore mourning white in the capital. Crushed flowers on the
streets.”