Voronica Whitney-Robinson - Sands of the Soul

Tazi just shook her head.

"I've lost him, but I'll be damned if I let that bastard take Fannah, too."

Steorf nodded slowly and asked, "What do you plan to do?"

That simple question stopped Tazi in her tracks. Her momentum was cut short, and she floundered.

"There's someone I have to speak to," she finally said and turned to leave, everything else forgotten.

Steorf started to follow.

"No," she said, stopping him with a light touch of her hand on his thick chest. "I need you to get Fannah and bring her back to my rooms at the Kit. Don't leave her side for a moment. Where I have to go now, I have to go alone."

With that, she slipped into the night.

Tazi held her fist poised in the air. She chewed her lip for a moment, trying to decide if this was the right course of action.

I can't see any other way, she said to herself.

Having made up her mind, she brought her fist down on the thick door. One rap, silence, then two raps.

"Come," a deep voice invited.

Tazi swung open the heavy door to Erevis Cale's bedroom. She had been there just a few times before. The only other semi-private room in which she ever spent time with Cale alone was in his pantry, occasionally sharing some brandy with him. Of the two rooms, Tazi preferred the pantry. His bedroom was decidedly uninviting.

The only light in the room came from a tarnished oil lamp on Cale's oak night table. Tazi found her eyes had a hard time adjusting to the dim lighting. She understood that Cale didn't need much light as he kept his furnishings to a minimum, more austere than even her elf friend. Aside from his long, wrought-iron bed and night table, there was just an overstuffed leather chair and a pine trunk near the foot of his bed. Tazi's eyes lingered for a moment on the trunk and found, despite the way the night had passed, that she couldn't resist a quick smile at an old memory.

When she was about twelve years old, Tazi began to cut her thieving teeth. The most obvious place to start practicing, she discovered, was at home. With so many rooms and so many people coming and going from the household, there were many opportunities for her to acquire the odd, sundry bauble. One of her mother's jewels here, a silver candlestick there… and so it went.

She worked her way through most everyone's quarters, and when the items went missing, the staff took the brunt of the blame. No one suspected her.

Feeling fairly confident, Tazi one day decided to filch something from Erevis Cale's room. While most of the staff and even a few of her family were somewhat intimidated by the new butler, Tazi was fascinated by the gaunt man. She didn't hesitate to sneak into his quarters.

Even then, Cale kept his personal effects to the bare essentials. The young Tazi was somewhat disappointed that there were such slim pickings in his bedroom. Her eyes lit up, however, when she caught sight of his pine trunk. Finding it locked, Tazi took out a crude pick and began to work on the catch, certain that there would be something of value hidden inside.

This was the sight Cale discovered when he walked into his room.

"Having some trouble?" he asked the young Thazienne.

"As a matter of fact, this lock of yours is giving me a difficult time," she replied, not showing a hint of surprise or fear at being caught.

Cale walked over to where Tazi was kneeling, crossed his arms over his chest and fixed her with his most menacing expression. The effect it generated was not what Cale expected. Tazi looked up at him for a moment, solemnly, then clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape. She could see Cale was momentarily caught off guard by her reaction, but he quickly recovered.

"So it appears I have found the rat that has been pilfering the mansion coffers for the last few tendays," he said.

"It seems you have," Tazi replied, matching him measure for measure.

She could see that a part of him was not angry with her at all. In fact, she thought he was even a little pleased with her response. She stood up, but even though she was tall for her age, Tazi came well short of Cale's six-foot-two frame. She had to crane her neck to look up at him better.

Cale stared at the black-haired Thazienne for a moment with an unreadable look on his face, as though he were weighing several options. He reached down and took the lock pick from Tazi's unresisting fingers. Tazi watched as he turned it this way and that in his hand, scrutinizing it closely. A small part of her dreaded the fact that she was going to have to explain herself to her mother and father after Cale turned her in. Her mind was already racing for a good excuse when Cale interrupted her scheming.

"Do you think your parents will be pleased with the 'hobby' you've taken up?" he asked.

Now was the time for Tazi to start laying some kind of groundwork for the story she would later spin for her parents in her bid to escape punishment. But she found she didn't want to play the tearful, contrite child for Cale.

"I didn't do any of this for them or what they might think of me. I did it for me and me alone. It seemed the-" she paused, searching for the right word-"natural thing for me to do."

Cale slowly handed the pick back to Tazi.

"This is really very poor quality," he observed, noting that he had startled the young girl by his actions. "If this is going to be the kind of life you chose for yourself, then you should do your best."

Tazi's jaw dropped open when he offered his support and Cale couldn't help but smile.

The smile softened his chiseled features and he looked very young to Tazi just then as she realized he was only twenty or so. Without thinking, she playfully jabbed him in the side as she often did her younger brother, Talbot, when he pulled a good prank on her.

"All right," he said, seeming to ignore her touch, "let's gather up your things. Your first lesson will be the value of proper tools," he told Tazi as he escorted her from his chambers.

Tazi turned and glanced back at his trunk.

"What about that lock?" she asked with a quick jerk of her head.

Cale led her from the room.

"We'll save that one for another day. It is far trickier than it appears."

Tazi walked over to that same trunk so many years later, still smiling from her reverie. A low voice reminded her she was no longer that young girl. "Can I do something for you, mistress?" Cale asked.

Tazi turned to see that Cale had been sitting in the leather chair the whole time. She simply hadn't seen him until he spoke to her. She was momentarily embarrassed that he had caught her daydreaming. There was a time when it wouldn't have bothered Tazi if he had found her lost in an unguarded moment, but those days had passed for her. She didn't want anyone to find her exposed.

She sat down on the trunk, resting her elbows on her knees with her hands laced loosely together.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," she began lamely, realizing she hadn't awakened him as he was still dressed in his ill-fitting servant's garb, "but some events have transpired and I need some advice. Ebeian…"

"Ebeian is dead," Cale finished for her.

He didn't bother to rise or offer Tazi anything to drink. He sat rigidly in his chair with his fingers steepled under his chin.

"I suppose I should be surprised that you know that," Tazi replied after a moment, "but you have always been 'well connected,' haven't you?"

Cale merely tipped his head in acknowledgement. Since he first started training her, Tazi recognized that Cale had a network of associates with ties to the less-than-respectable element of Selgaunt. Because he never seemed to use those connections for anything other than for the Uskevren's benefit, Tazi never mentioned it to her parents. If her family had been in jeopardy, it wouldn't have mattered to Tazi what dark secrets of hers he possessed. She would've handed him over in an instant. However, he was always true as far as she knew, and she was fully prepared to use him and his connections.