Thief of Lives

Chapter 21

Leesil rose in the morning with his stomach churning. Only severe fatigue had brought sleep in the night, as his thoughts tumbled into dreams-or nightmares. Not of death or the repulsive lessons of his childhood, but of his mother, locked away for years somewhere unknown, and of Magiere's sadly confused eyes as he left her sitting upon her bed. So it came as only a minor shock when Magiere announced there was more to be done before they were finished with the undead of Bela.

From his perspective, they need only retrieve the head of the undead they'd found mysteriously struck down on the house's second floor. With Wynn and Chap along again, they returned by coach to the three-story stone house. As Magiere entered, she immediately began shattering furniture with her falchion.

"There are too many things we've found to be false in hunting these creatures, like the stake through Sapphire's heart," she explained. "We need to be certain this is all done with."

Though she winced in pain from her wounded shoulder, as before it seemed to be healing more quickly than it should. When she dumped a divan's remains in the street, oiled them, and lit the pile ablaze, Leesil understood, though he wasn't certain this was the best place. Wynn was aghast, but Magiere silenced any objection with a dour shake of her head. They'd continually stumbled upon false superstitions in their hunts, and Leesil understood leaving nothing to chance.

"I'll get more wood," she said quietly. "Start bringing out the bodies."

Leesil nodded, and signaled Chap to follow him. Before he stepped back into the house, he looked at Magiere standing near the fire, hair bound in a tail, and the flames feeding blood-glimmers into her black hair in the early-morning light. She was tired and worn in her damaged armor, falchion on her hip, but she gazed pensively into the pyre. Leesil felt suddenly afraid he'd pushed her too far the night before. He turned into the house.

Stopping short of the parlor and Sapphire's body, he glanced to the cellar stairs. If there were any uncertainty for the demise of an undead, there was one he wanted to be certain of first. He headed down to the passage into the sewers.

Leesil didn't relish a return to the city's underbelly, but the distance seemed shorter somehow, as Chap led the way. They found Ratboy's body lodged against the walkway a little way down from the intersection where Leesil had taken his head. The severed hand seemed to have been washed away.

"He looks dead to me," Leesil said.

Chap yipped once in agreement, but they weren't about to argue with Magiere. Leesil dragged the waterlogged corpse all the way back and dropped it next to Sapphire's in the parlor. He was about to climb to the second floor, and instead returned to crouch next to Sapphire's corpse.

A thin, raised line in the congealed black fluids on the carpet had caught his attention. Leesil slipped out a stiletto and poked at it. It shifted slightly, and he hooked it with the blade's tip to pull it out.

It was a necklace covered by dark ichor. He wiped it with the skirt of the blue gown, and before him hung a gold pendant with a sapphire the size of his small fingernail.

Leesil stared at it in thought, knowing just how Magiere would react if she caught him pilfering the dead-or the undead, for that matter. There might be long months ahead, and what the council would pay them needed to go to Miiska.

Spoils of war, he thought, and finished roughly wiping it off before tucking it into his hauberk. He would deal with Magiere later, when objections were pointless. If later still remained a possibility in her mind. Then another thought occurred to him.

A gown with a matching stone. And if there were other gowns…?

He was about to head upstairs when Wynn scurried through the front door.

"You have to stop this," she urged. The outright dread upon her face was plain to see. "You cannot let Magiere burn bodies in the middle of a public street!"

Leesil was about to answer when Magiere stepped through the door behind the young sage.

"You find Ratboy?" she asked him.

Leesil nodded. "He's in the parlor. I'll bring the third one down, the one we found already dead last night."

"Time to finish this," Magiere added. "People are already out and about, and that's not such a terrible thing-though they may not agree when they see what we're doing."

She headed back outside and down to the pyre.

Leesil sensed there was more to this than burning undeads to be certain of their destruction. Wynn looked at him uncomfortably. While the little scholar respected Magiere, she would never understand all of it.

"She hates to admit it," Leesil said. "But deep inside, Magiere likes the drama of a good show. She's angry that these creatures lived comfortably amidst the wealthy, and none of these fools appeared to know or care enough to realize what was happening. We'll shake them out of their complacency."

"Oh…" Wynn answered. "Is she still angry with me over Chane?"

For a moment, Leesil tried to find some way to spare her feelings, to understand what she had done. But he couldn't.

"You were wrong, Wynn. You should've done anything in your power to help Magiere take his head."

Wynn stepped back, and it was perhaps the first time he'd seen her grow cold and harsh.

"I had a place among you in this," she said. "You, Magiere, and Chap possess strength and courage beyond anyone I have known, but you lack conscience. I was that conscience last night. Not all beings of a kind are the same, Leesil. And I believe it is possible not all Noble Dead are the same."

Her answer surprised him. He appreciated how she stood by her convictions, even if she was completely naive.

"If you still want to help," he said, "go out there and keep people away from Magiere as best you can. One wrong word and… well, you know her enough to guess the worst."

Wynn sighed deeply, still not at all pleased, but she nodded and headed out to the street.

Leesil didn't stop at the body on the second floor. Instead, he opened the doors there to briefly inspect the rooms, but neither held what he looked for. It was in the last room of the top floor that he reached his goal. He entered and pulled aside the thick curtains and shutters to let in the daylight.

The room was decorated in peach and white, and Leesil grimaced at the decor. He inspected the closet and confirmed his suspicions-gowns of varied hues, all of costly fabrics and frills. He wasted no time and rummaged through the wardrobe and vanity and found what he sought. The walnut box was only slightly ornate, and inside were trinkets, earrings, and necklaces, all seasoned with stones and gems, some of which he couldn't identify.

He closed the box.

No one would miss it, not from a place such as this, but he thought of Magiere and the horrifying scene they were creating in the street. He thought of people who'd never know where their friends and family disappeared to in the night. He thought of the council, who'd still be hiding all this from their citizens, if not for the pyre about to be fed.

Leesil slipped the box back into the drawer with a better purpose for it in mind.

Back at the body on the second floor, he opened the sack with the two heads and was about to add the third when he noticed a wad of cloth caught beneath Toret's head. He pulled it out of the sack to discover it was a satchel or purse.

Inside was a small collection of pennies, groats, shills, and even one sovereign, the assortment roughly equal in both silver and gold. One more thing for Magiere to get angry about, and he shoved the purse into his hauberk with the necklace.

He added the third head to his sack, and hauled the corpse down the stairs. He left it in the foyer and dragged Toret's out first.

People watched from their windows, a few gathered upon the street at a safe distance, but no one approached. As Leesil approached the blaze, Magiere grabbed Toret's legs, and they tossed the headless corpse upon the pyre.

Sparks rose in the air, and Wynn recoiled. Chap merely sat near the street's edge, watching intently. Leesil returned to the house.

When the last body was fed to the flames, people crowded together at either end of the street. Smoke thickened in the morning air, carrying with it the stench of burning flesh.

Chap suddenly barked and stood up.

Leesil saw Captain Chetnik in a wagon coming straight toward them through the crowd. Vatz was seated next to the captain, and several guards sat behind. The crackling roar of the pyre and mill of the crowds had masked the wagon's approach.

As the wagon halted, Chetnik appeared stunned by the sight on the street. He jumped out, imposing with his wide girth and white surcoat and mass of dark curling hair hidden beneath the three-crested helmet. He strode purposefully toward Magiere.

"Have you lost all reason?" he demanded.

Magiere stood with arms crossed, facing the fire.

Leesil reached into the sack and pulled out Ratboy's head. "Look in its mouth."

Chetnik leaned away. He'd rarely spoken to Leesil, and he stopped, uncertain. Cautiously, the captain reached out and pushed back the head's stiffened, pale lips to reveal long, canine eyeteeth.

"We have bodies to burn," Leesil said. "It's the only way to be certain."

Chetnik's eyes flew up to Leesil's face and then to Magiere.

"You might have chosen a more discreet location. I would have helped."

"Yes," Magiere said coldly. "We should have quietly slipped away with all proof, so no one had to acknowledge anything happened at all."

Chetnik ran a hand over his face, trying to resume his professional posture. "Well enough. I understand."

Leesil realized then, that of all the people they'd dealt with in this city, aside from the sages, Chetnik was one of the few who cared what happened to its citizens, even the commoners. In time, word of this grisly scene would spread, and people would know what had happened. No more secrets and lies from the council. After that, well, Leesil didn't envy the captain when family and friends of the missing came looking for him.

"Is there anything more that needs to be done?" the captain asked grudgingly.

"We need to see the council immediately," Leesil answered. "Can you get us in?"

Chetnik sighed. "Get in the wagon. There's a meeting this morning."

Magiere turned from the pyre without a word, and Wynn followed her at a safe distance with Vatz. As the captain was about to join them, Leesil stopped him to speak privately.

"On the third floor of the house is the female's room. When the rest of this is finished, go there yourself and see what you find. Sell it all, and use the money for those who suffered loss. It won't bring back their dead, but it might help them get on with their lives. I doubt the council will do much, even now that all of this is out in the open."

Chetnik appeared suspicious for a moment. Then, with a firm clench of his square jaw, he nodded.

As they drove away, the bodies blackened in the flames.

Chetnik left two guards to watch the fire, with instructions to keep it burning until nothing but ash remained.

Magiere followed the captain down the long hall toward the ornate doors of the council chamber. Leesil was beside her, and Chap, Wynn, and even Vatz hurried along behind them.

"I take it this'll be as ugly as that scene you made in the street," Chetnik growled over his shoulder.

Magiere made no reply.

Chetnik grunted his approval. "Good enough."

The effeminate secretary, Doviak, scurried after them, nearly shouting, "Sir, you cannot bring them in without an appointment!"

The captain ignored him and, fortunately, the little man didn't try to step in the way.

Magiere's respect for Chetnik increased. Bela's city officials were a loathsome lot, but the guards' captain had a brain and a backbone behind his sense of duty to the people. Such a rarity left Magiere sad and stirred more guilt for all the years she and Leesil had preyed upon the poor.

The captain grabbed both latches and jerked the council room doors open. Magiere stepped straight up to the near end of the long oval table as Leesil joined her.

The men of Bela's council gasped at their arrival. The councilmen, in their fine black tunics and cloaks, with their perfectly clipped and combed hair, stared in astonishment at the ragged, band invading their sacred space. Surprise quickly faded from several faces to be replaced with anger, followed by exclamations of outrage and indignation at the intrusion. At the table's far end, Lanjov stood up.

Magiere hadn't seen him since the morning Au'shiyn's body was found. He looked haggard beneath his proper attire, and his hair appeared lead gray rather than the polished steel she remembered from her first day in Bela.

"Mistress Magiere," Lanjov said politely. "An appointment for an audience is customary, and Captain Chetnik knows this."

"It's done," she responded, ignoring the admonishment.

"We want our bankdraft, and I want your guarantee that this boy's uncle"-she gestured back to Vatz-"has his inn rebuilt and paid for by the city. In the course of our task, the inn was burned down by an undead."

Sputters broke out around the table, but Lanjov looked at her in a mix of anxiety and hope.

"You found Chesna's killer? You destroyed the creature plaguing Bela?"

"Creatures," Magiere corrected.

"Really?" replied an older gentleman in anger, and he stood up. "And I assume you have proof of these vampires you claim to have destroyed?"

Magiere glanced toward Leesil, and her partner smiled. For a moment, that expression brought her a chill. There was still a dark nature inside of him, much as there was in her.

Leesil gripped the sack's bottom and snapped it forward across the table.

Three heads rolled down the polished surface, rumbling to a stop along the way at various places. Covered in grime, with black fluids congealed in mouths, hair, and neck stumps, their dead eyes stared out at the fine gentlemen all around. Ratboy's half-opened mouth exposed sharp fangs.

Several men rose or lurched away, covering their mouths with hands or handkerchiefs. Lanjov dropped in his chair and then froze. Captain Chetnik crossed his arms with a disapproving moan.

Magiere spoke calmly. "Would anyone like to further question Lanjov's offer?"

In the aftermath, and much to Leesil's satisfaction, the council quickly fulfilled all their requests-and politely suppressed their relief when Magiere announced she was leaving immediately. As they stepped outside and off the royal grounds, Wynn had the bankdraft in her hand, as well as a short note Leesil had penned to Karlin. Of course, nothing could be done to punish Poyesk without further proof, but at least Karlin would be warned.

"Take the wagon and horses," Chetnik suddenly offered with a wry smile. "I'm sure I can pass on the expense somehow. You'll need them if you intend to leave by land. This has certainly been an entertaining morning."

Leesil looked up at the captain in mild surprise and then simply held out his hand. The captain shook it. He was about to approach Magiere but seemed to think better of it.

"Well, I'd best tend to that other matter you mentioned," he said. With a nod to Leesil, he strode off down the street, motioning his guards to follow.

Magiere stood silent, facing the inland side of Bela, looking at the open land beyond the outer wall.

"So when do I get my cut?" Vatz suddenly piped in.

"You'll get it," Leesil growled.

"We'll need to resupply," Magiere said, but the exhaustion in her voice suggested such an effort was almost beyond her. "And we'll leave this afternoon, get out of Bela and find an inn. Vatz, what's left of the coins I gave you?"

The boy handed her the purse she'd given him the night before, and he rolled his shoulders. It was empty. Magiere grew wearier right before Leesil's eyes. With reluctance, and then resignation, he reached inside his hauberk, pulled out the stained purse, and handed it to her.

Magiere opened it to look inside with first relief, followed by suspicion, and then, as expected, anger.

"Don't ask. I'll explain later," he said before she could cut into him.

He wanted to absolve her of any mundane duties and could see that she desperately needed time alone.

"I'll take the wagon," he added, "and gather our things. You head out and follow the main route through the central land side gate. If I don't catch you beforehand, wait for me at the first inn that's on the main road outside the city's reach."

Magiere relaxed a little. Nodding once, she turned and headed up the street without even a good-bye to the sage or the boy. She paused once to look back at Leesil and then was gone.

"Get in the wagon, and I'll take you back to the barracks," Leesil told Wynn and Vatz. "I have one more favor to ask."

He called to Chap, who was exchanging sniffs with the horses, and the hound ducked around back of the wagon to hop up beside the boy and the sage.

It was a short ride, and, with Wynn's help, they transferred Leesil and Magiere's chest and other scant belongings into the wagon, along with a few food supplies and blankets. Domin Tilswith was off on a regular visit to badger the council for better facilities, and so Leesil stood outside the barracks with only Wynn and Vatz. He reached inside his hauberk, lifted out Sapphire's necklace, and handed it to the sage.

"Sell this," he said. "And Vatz, you help her get a fair price. Take payment in gold only, as I'm guessing its value in silver would be too bulky to carry."

"You coming back?" the boy asked.

"Only if you can't find me where I told Magiere to wait," he explained. "At the first inn outside the city's reach. Tomorrow you can bring the coins to me there."

He paused, considering how much they owed these two for their help.

"You hold back two gold sovereigns from whatever you get. One for your guild, Wynn, to help out here until the council gives in to your needs. The other is for you, Vatz."

For the first time Leesil could remember since their meeting on the docks, Vatz stood in silence, mouth gaping open. It was more than the boy could earn in years at his present endeavors. Leesil patted him on the shoulder and turned to Wynn.

"I appreciate you helping uncover Chap's little secret."

Wynn smiled shyly, and her oval olive face blushed. She lunged forward to wrap her arms about him. Leesil held her for a moment before gently disentangling himself.

"I hope Magiere will forgive me," Wynn said quietly. "Though she was wrong concerning Chane."

"She already has," Leesil said with a smile. "She just doesn't know it yet. At times she's rather slow that way."

As he climbed into the wagon and snapped the reins, Chap clambered forward onto the seat next to him, and he called out one last time: "Give our best to Karlin, and with luck, we'll see you again… someday."

He left them both waving as the wagon rolled down the road and out through the gatehouse of the middle ring wall.

Leesil traveled the rest of the way out of the city with thoughts dull and thick in his head. Nothing had changed-nothing that mattered, anyway. There was the money for Miiska, of course, but Magiere still remained far away from him. He'd promised to stay by her, no matter that she now chose for everything to remain as it was between them.

The road grew quieter as they passed through the city's landward gate and the cottages, shops, and buildings that spread beyond Bela's outer wall. All the way into the nearest farmland, even Chap remained quiet. Past the open fields, barren in autumn, the wagon rolled into the first outlying village with an inn on the main road. How Magiere had gotten this far ahead Leesil could only guess. Perhaps she'd actually spent money for a coach.

As they pulled up, Chap jumped out to scurry into the brush around the nearby field. Leesil unloaded the chest, and the hound came back briefly, looking to him and then back at the field.

"Go on," he said. "Just don't be long."

Chap licked Leesil's hand once, and he was off into the wild grass. Leesil hauled the chest into the inn.

The innkeeper was a solid old woman who informed him that the black-haired swordswoman he sought had already taken a room. He asked the innkeeper to tend the wagon and horses, and she showed him the way to the back of the inn through a narrow hallway. As he approached, a door opened.

In it stood Magiere, armor and sword removed, and hair untied, hanging loose about her shoulders. She stepped aside, holding the door for him.

Leesil set the chest at the foot of a narrow bed. The small room was dark and lit by one oil lamp. Rough burlap curtains were pulled closed over a shuttered window with no glass. It appeared Magiere now wished to hide from the world as well as from him.

"I paid for only one room," she said quietly. Shutting the door, she leaned against it, head slightly down.

"It's all right," he answered. "There'll be more coin in the morning."

"What?" she asked. "How? From where?"

He shook his head, not wanting to deal with her any further at the moment.

"I'll explain tomorrow while we prepare for travel," he answered. "I can sleep on the floor. We have spare blankets in the wagon."

Magiere gave him a bewildered frown. Her pale brow remained wrinkled as she stepped closer, searching his face. Leesil suppressed a shudder that threatened to shatter his self-control. Perhaps now she'd at least tell him and be done with it.

She took his face in both hands, scowling at him. Before he could ask what he'd done now, she leaned in and pressed her mouth hard against his.

Leesil stiffened as he grabbed her by the shoulders and held her away just far enough to look her in the eyes.

Magiere looked startled at his reaction. Then her large brown eyes softened as she pulled the scarf from his head and combed her fingers through his hair.

"If we're to live that fourth life of yours, it seems we must now hunt our own pasts… and Chap's," she whispered. There was some fear in her face, and perhaps a bit of sadness, but also warmth. "This still feels strange, but you've put all your trust in me, and I've not done the same for you. It's time I changed that."

Leesil's mind went blank. All he felt was relief as he pressed close to kiss Magiere again. Then suddenly, he stopped.

"I think I need a bath."

"Later," she said. "For now, we rest."

Magiere carefully pulled aside his hauberk's collar, checking the bandage, and helped him slip out of his armor. She turned down the lamp until the flame extinguished, and Leesil felt her hand again upon the side of his face.

"I don't think this is going to get us any rest," he remarked in the dark.

"Leesil…" she answered with a sigh. "Just be quiet for a little while."

He wanted to laugh aloud and let go of everything but her. And as always, at the best moments in his life, joy stirred his natural humor.

"Magiere…"

"Leesil, shut up."

"Just one little thing."

"What?" she said crossly.

"Um… no biting."

Two hands slammed his shoulders, and he tumbled onto the small bed. He felt Magiere drop on top of him, pressing close.

"Not funny."

Her answer came with all the irritation he'd so long become accustomed to.

As always, an angry Magiere was most often the true Magiere.