Кейт Новак - The Wyvern's Spur

“Lucky you’ve got me to look out for you, now,” Jade said in mock earnestness, waving a slender finger.

“And who’s going to look out for you?” Olive teased.

“I don’t need looking out for. I never get into trouble.”

“You will if one of Sudacar’s men sees you with Giogioni Wyvernspur’s purse hanging from your belt,” Olive warned, an impish smile barely contained on her face.

“I don’t have—” Jade swung her hand down to her hip. Knotted around her belt were the strings of a yellow velvet bag embroidered with a green “W” and bulging with coins.

Olive grinned. “Don’t you think you’d better tuck that out of sight? I’ll collect my cut later.”

Giving a low whistle of appreciation for the halfling’s dexterity and sneakiness, Jade teased the knot out of the purse strings. From her belt she drew a second, smaller pouch. She opened the smaller one and dropped Giogi’s larger, unopened purse into it. The money-laden purse disappeared into the pouch without making a bulge.

It was Olive’s turn to whistle. “How’d you do that?” she gasped.

“Isn’t it great?” Jade said as she knotted the smaller pouch’s strings and tucked it back into her belt. “It’s a miniature magical bag. You can really stuff it. Want to know the best part? It was a gift.”

“Well, well, well. Who gives you such magical gifts, and when are you going to introduce us, girl?” Olive asked.

“Later, Olive. That’s what I’ve been up to for the past few days. He said not to say anything until it was all over, but a girl can’t be expected to keep this kind of thing from her best friend, now can she?”

“Of course not,” Olive agreed. “What kind of thing?”

“Well, it all started that night you caught cold and went back to your boarding house to rest your voice. After you left, I plucked this servant— Hello, what’s this?” Jade interrupted her story to turn her attention to a cloaked figure coming down the street.

It was hard to identify the figure as man or woman, since the cloak fell in voluminous folds about the body and the cloak’s hood shadowed the face. From the figure’s size and heavy, measured stride, Olive guessed it was a man. An unpleasant man. Jade leaned forward, a feral glint in her eye. Olive tugged her back by the hem of her tunic. “Not this one, girl.”

“Olive, what’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know. He feels … dangerous somehow.” A new feeling of familiarity tickled at her brain, but this one was mixed with an inexplicable fear.

Jade’s nose twitched with annoyance. “He feels rich to me.” She tugged the hem of her tunic out of the halfling’s hand. Still, Olive’s words had shaken her confidence. She slid the magic pouch out of her belt. “Hold onto this for me, then I’ll have nothing to lose if he’s ticklish and calls out the watch.”

“Nothing but your freedom,” Olive sniffed. “Lord Sudacar hand-picked those guards himself. You don’t want to take them on, believe me.”

Jade grinned. “As long as they don’t find that purse on me I can talk my way around them, and if not, my new friend can handle Lord Sudacar.”

“So certain, are you?” Olive asked as she slid the pouch inside her vest pocket.

“Got a name for myself in this town now,” Jade whispered. Before Olive could make the woman explain what she meant by that, Jade padded off after the new pigeon.

Left in the shadows, Olive sighed. It was hard to get angry with her protégée’s exuberance. With all her wealth, Olive might have retired from the business and just stuck with music, but she couldn’t bear to see Jade’s talent wasted. The woman really needed someone to advise her. She’s just going to have to learn the hard way, though, if she won’t take my advice, Olive thought.

Silently the halfling critiqued her partner’s performance. Jade had a nice natural style of walking after her pigeon, which didn’t betray her intent to anyone who might be watching the street. She also had the quietest tread of any woman Olive had ever known, and marks never heard her coming. She had one trait, though, that could betray her.

Jade was tall, even for a human woman. While this would not ordinarily be a great handicap, it was here and now, because Immersea was one of those civilized towns whose cobbled thoroughfares were lit at night with lanterns hung from poles. The illumination posed very little problem for Olive, but Jade’s shadow shot out before her whenever she passed a lantern pole, right across the path of whoever she followed.

Olive had warned Jade about that before, but either the human had forgotten or had chosen to ignore the warning. To Olive’s relief, though, the pigeon bundled in the heavy cloak seemed oblivious to Jade’s presence.

Jade got close enough to run her hands gently through the curves of the pigeons’ cloak and then fell back a few steps. She examined whatever it was she had snatched. Olive frowned. First rule is take cover, then examine the booty, the halfling chided silently. Whatever Jade had grabbed excited her greatly, and she broke protocol again by turning around and holding up her prize for Olive to see. It appeared to be a fist-sized crystal of black glass that did not reflect the streetlight. At least Olive presumed it was glass. It didn’t seem possible that anyone would carry around a valuable gem that size in an outer pocket.

Olive waved Jade away, afraid that the human thief might forget everything she’d been taught and walk back directly to their shadowy base of operations. Jade pocketed the item and strolled behind the pigeon another several yards—which was even worse. How many times, Olive wondered with a scowl, do I have to tell her never go back for seconds? Why do you always push Tymora’s luck, Jade-girl? Still, the street was otherwise empty, save for the two figures.

Luck broke badly for Jade all at once. Whether she had made a noise or the pigeon had spotted the human’s shadow, Olive couldn’t tell, but something alerted him to the thief’s presence. He stopped and turned slowly, the front of his hood fixed in the direction of Jade’s approach. As cool and calm as a frozen pond, Jade passed the pigeon, looking for all the Realms as if she were another Cormyte searching for a warm tavern, but Olive saw the mark rummage through his cloak pockets. The thief’s charade had not fooled him.

The human woman had only gotten four paces beyond the cloaked figure when he shouted in a deep, rich voice, “Treacherous witch! You’ve escaped, and now you try to steal what you have not earned!”

The thief’s ice-cool composure cracked. Without looking back, Jade made a dash for the unlit alley. Once the darkness folded around her, no pigeon would ever find her.

Before Jade could reach the alley’s shelter, though, the cloaked figure raised an arm and pointed a slender, ringed finger at her fleeing form. A line of emerald light emanated from the finger.

The beam sliced through the darkness, striking Jade squarely in the back. She froze in midstride, her mouth open, but, like some horrible pantomime show, her scream was never heard. The emerald light outlined the woman’s body and burst into a searing brilliance. Olive’s eyes shut instinctively against the glare.

When she opened them again, the light had died and there was no Jade, only a collection of glittering green dust motes drifting lazily to the ground. Jade More had ceased to exist.

“No!” Olive screeched in horror.

The cloaked figure whirled about at the shout. The hood fell away from his face. Lantern light illuminated his visage: sharp, hawklike features with piercing predatory blue eyes.

Olive recognized the face immediately. She knew the man. Unbidden, warm memories sprang to her mind: fighting beside him at Westgate, learning new songs from him, accepting his silver Harper’s pin. Yet, in her fury, her hand reached automatically for her dagger.