Fire Games (Pyforial Mage Trilogy: Book 1) Page 26

  Shara thought the same thing, apparently. “We’ll pay seven pits for the one-bed.”

  “Nine.”

  “We can’t do nine.”

  “Eight it is.”

  Shara handed the man one of the four silvers I’d given her earlier. He gave her back two pits and silently led us to our room. Where was the politeness I’d seen earlier? He didn’t even look over his shoulder to make sure we were following him, as if now that we’d given him money we didn’t matter anymore.

  I couldn’t wait to close the door behind us and ask Shara, “What was that?”

  “That’s fairithing. It’s exhausting.”

  “Why didn’t you just take the free grand bedroom.”

  For a while she just laughed. She seemed almost delirious from exhaustion, holding her head until her giggles finally died out. “You almost took up his offer for that room. Worried me for a moment.”

  “And why shouldn’t we?”

  “You don’t ever take their offers until the fairith is done. Ever, Neeko. I’m not exaggerating. Do. Not. Take. Their. Offers. In fact, if you’re not as generous as they are during the fairith, it’s almost as bad.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why offer something if the other person shouldn’t take it?”

  “Everyone does it, not just in Antilith. We offer to be nice, and we expect the other person to realize this and decline our offer. Here they take it a step further. Many steps further.”

  “Everyone here does that?” I was incredulous.

  “Everyone.”

  “But I still don’t understand what would’ve happened if we’d taken the grand bedroom?” I looked around for comparison. The four-foot-wide bed, which looked even smaller than I’d imagined, took up most of the room. There was a window and a clean mirror, but the room certainly wasn’t worth eight pits.

  “Taking his offer would be the most embarrassing thing you could do short of taking off all your clothes and running in circles. You just don’t do it. No one does. You could get in serious trouble, just like if you took your clothes off in public.” She covered her mouth as she yawned. “When the fairith is over, then you can accept an offer. Think of what it would be like if the innkeeper had put his finger up his nose and started digging around while we were speaking. Even that wouldn’t be as bad as accepting an offer during fairith.” She eyed the bed as she started unbuttoning her dress.

  “Should I turn away?” I did anyway.

  “Yes, but I’m not undressing completely. We’re sharing a bed after all.”

  I realized it was the first time we’d be sleeping indoors—the first time it was warm enough for us to remove our clothes before sleeping. I didn’t think of this before telling Shara to get the cheaper one-bed room. I waited for her to complain as I removed my shirt, prepared to pay for a two-bed if needed.

  When she didn’t say anything, I realized she probably wasn’t paying attention. I glanced over my shoulder to see her turned away from me like I was from her. The slight curve of her back brought my eyes down her body, her socks the only thing left to be removed, for she certainly would keep on her undergarments.

  I straightened out and removed my pants, leaving on just my undershorts. She was first into bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

  “Bad idea with the bed,” I said, getting in on the other side, careful not to touch her.

  “Bad idea?”

  “I didn’t think ahead—that we would be undressing because it was warm…and four feet sounded wider in my mind.”

  “I didn’t want to pay extra, either. It’s my money that we’re spending as well, Neeko. Don’t forget I’m paying you back once I redeem my scroll. I swear I will.”

  “I believe you.”

  We said good night. I rolled over and noticed the window facing west. Its curtain wasn’t drawn, letting in the light of the moon.

  I sat up to look through it for a glimpse of the forest. Somewhere among those trees a mile out was an army intent on punishing us until our king agreed to start the sacrifices again. I almost wanted him to do it. All this fighting would be done, and Shara said those being sacrificed wanted to jump. Well, the last one didn’t, but probably most do.

  No, if the sacrifices weren’t accomplishing anything, then we should put an end to them. The southern king was the one who needed to change his mind.

  I scoffed as I thought about all the innocent people dying because of this war. And how many more would die before it ended?

  “Do you see something?” Shara asked. I felt her sit up, pulling the blankets with her to cover herself.

  “It’s quiet, still.”

  I tried to sleep, but every noise I heard was the battle beginning. Someone laughing sounded like yelling at first. A bang on the wall, one of my neighbors rustling, was the first chunk of burning wood being flung into the city.

  All is safe, I told myself. At least for now.

  I lay awake, trying not to make noise even though I could tell Shara wasn’t sleeping, either. Like me, she fidgeted constantly. We went on like this for the better part of an hour, something I was used to, but I doubted Shara usually stayed awake this long. I was on my back when she turned over to face me for the first time. There wasn’t more than a foot of space between us, and our eyes met.

  I waited for her to speak, to tell me the obvious—she couldn’t sleep when she was worried about the battle, or maybe Eizle, probably both. There was still the issue of making it to Glaine on time, and here we were unable to rest. A complete waste of time.

  She sighed, and it said all of this at once.

  “I know.” I turned toward her and put my hand on her shoulder.

  She put her hand on top of mine and squeezed. Then she turned to face the other way, taking my hand and pulling my arm over her. I placed my hand on her stomach but flinched, alarmed to be touching so much of her skin, as I figured she wouldn’t want me to.

  She quickly let go of my arm. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.” She scooted away from me and clamped her own hands onto her shoulders.

  She must’ve been all right with me touching her bare stomach and thought I didn’t want to. I showed her how wrong she was by moving close, putting my hand across her body and firmly onto her stomach again.

  “This is all right for you?” she asked dubiously.

  “Yes.” It wasn’t the wrong answer, but it wasn’t the right one, either. “Yes” didn’t point out the ridiculousness of her question. “Yes” didn’t tell Shara that any man in bed with her would be more than all right holding her like this. I’m sure most would be “all right” with much more than that.

  “I’ve never had this before,” she whispered.

  “Had what?”

  “Comfort in another’s touch. Trust. A friend who isn’t a crutch. Just—this.” She squeezed my arm. “Inexplicable but miscible.”

  “It’s really easier for you to speak in rhymes?”

  “In this case. They give me direction when I don’t have it. You should try it. Make a rhyme about me. What does Neeko feel about Shara?”

  My danger instincts kicked in, telling me not to play this game. “He’s glad he met her.”

  “That’s it?” She made no effort to hide her disappointment.

  “I can’t rhyme like you. I don’t even know what miscible means.”

  “Able to be mixed together. It’s mostly used by chemists.”

  “Are you a chemist?”

  “I dabble. And you’re lucky I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to make the antidote that saved your life.” She drummed her fingers on my hand. “Not sure if you ever really thanked me for that.”

  I leaned over her and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

  She hummed, scrunching her shoulders and curling up against me.

  “I have felt like a crutch, though,” I said.

  “You’re not. Maybe somewhat in the beginning, but not now.”

  “Why stay with me in the beginning then?”

  �
��I needed someone to go with me, and you were hurting from loss in the same way I was, which made it easy to trust you. It’s comforting to find someone with the same pain, who’s been dealt the same hand.” She scoffed. “It’s for that same reason I trusted Tyree so easily, especially given he’s a child.”

  It had taken me far longer to trust her than she had me, but more quickly than it took me to trust anyone else after Swenn, I realized.

  “I suppose it is easier to trust someone who’s lost the same things you have,” I said. “It also helps that we want the same thing.”

  “Redemption.”

  “Justice.”

  I hated what I’d done during the first night…and that she’d woken up to realize it. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever explained why. “I didn’t trust you at first. It’s why I left during the night.”

  “Oh.”

  I wanted to rhyme, feeling it was the only thing to stop the solemn wet blanket coming down around us. “I was wrong to do that. I trust you now. I won’t leave again. This I vow.”

  She giggled. “Not going to try rhyming all words?”

  “Not when I’m this tired.”

  “Good night, Neeko.”

  “Good night.”

  I felt her fall asleep soon after. She twitched a few times in my embrace, then her breathing became loud and rhythmic.

  I drifted off into a slumber ridden with guilt-stricken nightmares, only these were about Eizle instead of my mother.

  I awoke with a start. The battle! I’d slept through the start of it. The morning sun—it was dawn. I ran to the window expecting to see the city ablaze.

  “Neeko! What is it?”

  I scanned the city. No fires. I searched the forest. Nothing. I took a few breaths, trying to calm my heart. “It’s all right,” I managed to get out. “They didn’t attack yet.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  We had four days left to reach Glaine, including today. Shara figured we had no more than an hour to spare before we had to ride north. She would use this time to buy a water skin, food, and maybe even undergarments. I was to stay put at the inn so I didn't get myself hung failing to fairith correctly.

  I said I would catch up on sleep in the room…and I felt horrible lying to her. But she would’ve tried to stop me if I’d told her what I really would be doing.

  We agreed to run out of the city at the first sign of an attack and meet at the northern border.

  Before Shara left, she gave me a hug. “If the innkeeper or any of his staff knocks on the door and tries to fairith with you, be as polite as possible. It means they’re trying to sell you something, but don’t ignore them. Compliment profusely. If you don’t feel sick at how polite you’re being, you’re probably not being polite enough. You can’t flatter too lavishly.”

  “I’ve got it. Make sure you’re at the inn on time. My worries will torment me if you’re not.” Thanks to my father, I’d had enough waiting and wondering for a lifetime.

  “I’ll be here.”

  Immediately after she left, I set out looking for the man who’d taken my dalion. There was a good chance he wasn’t even in this city. And if he was, the odds of finding him were even less. Still, I had to try. The first step was figuring out what a degenerate thief would do with a dalion. The answer was easy. Spend it.

  There were two types of thieves—calculated and calm or spontaneous and emotional. The latter was the more dangerous, and this was what my thief seemed like to me. I would find him in the richer part of town, where he would be flaunting that money. In his mind it was his own now, as if he’d earned it.

  Unfortunately, my mind didn’t work like Shara’s. His face had become less clear in my memory. I was still confident I could recognize him, though. Those deep cheek lines, those wide ears, that thinning hair on the sides of his head—I just needed to spot him for an instant.

  I asked a woman where someone might go if they were looking for items of the most exquisite quality in Antilith. I was thankful when she answered without a compliment. She told me of an area on the northern side of the city, and I made my way there.

  “Excuse me, kind gentleman! Excuse me!” I met a street merchant’s gaze. “Yes you, kind gentleman,” he said. “I know my clothes are probably not of the quality a fine man like yourself is looking for, but please do me the favor of at least browsing. Your attention to my shop would be great business.”

  I thought of Shara finding me with my neck in a noose, and I froze. I hadn’t the faintest idea what to say. I couldn’t agree with him that I was too good for his clothes, but Shara had made it clear I couldn’t ignore him like I would in Lanhine. So I forced myself to say something.

  “They look more than appropriate for someone like me. I’m sorry I can’t look closer, though. I must be getting somewhere.” My tone sounded cross to my own ears. Was I incapable of being sweet? Wylen often told me I needed to be friendlier to our clients.

  The merchant apparently overlooked my tone. “That’s kind of you to say, fine gentleman, but I should be giving away these rags. Please, come take a shirt. You would make it look better than it deserves.”

  Be as polite as possible. “Thank you. But please, I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.” The merchant was starting to look offended, his eyes squinting at me. “Because taking the shirt for free would be a crime.” He waited for me to follow up. “All of your clothes—it would be a crime to take any of them...because they deserve payment.” I sounded a little better, but I was still fumbling.

  Gods, will this man just leave me alone? He was still waiting for me to say something else! “Because it’s fine…very fine clothing.” His mouth turned in disappointment, and I finally remembered what Shara told me about flattering to the point of sickness. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me. I mean they’re the best! The best clothes I’ve ever seen!”

  This finally perked him up. “Oh, that’s so kind of you to say. But they’re barely appropriate for the poor, and you fine gentleman, remind me of a prince.” I felt myself gagging as he went on. “Please take a closer look. I would be so honored if you wore anything here.” He tried to wave me toward his table.

  “They look lovely, and I wish I could. But—and I’m so sorry—I really must be leaving now. I’m so sorry!” It took all of my effort not to break into a run as I left. I wasn’t sure exactly how rude I’d just been, but I felt like I’d spat in his face.

  I risked a look back. The merchant already was flattering someone else. I let out a sigh of relief. But when I faced forward again, another merchant seemed like he’d marked me as a possible sale. I moved to another street.

  From then on, I decided it would save time if I avoided every merchant rather than walk by them.

  I roamed without luck as my hour drained away. Soon I started to lose what little hope I’d had of finding the thief. Just a few more stores, I told myself. Then I really need to start back.

  I looked through an open window into what seemed like the hundredth store. This one sold timepieces and other mechanical devices, all of which I was sure were too expensive for me. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the money. It was that I’d never consider such items to be worth the expense. Timepieces intrigued me when I was younger until I became convinced I’d never own one.

  There were two people at the counter speaking with the owner. One was a child. They must’ve been rich; both wore silk shirts, the man’s adorned with gold buttons on the cuffs. I went around to another window to look at their faces.

  I stood there slack-jawed when I recognized the thief. And not only that, the boy with him was Tyree! I would’ve bet my dalion against the odds of finding him, yet there he was! Finally, I had the presence of mind to move before either of them turned and noticed me.

  I cautiously peered in from the corner of the window. They must’ve been done fairithing because they were negotiating the price of something now.

  “My late wife wored it till she died,” the thief argued. “And she only wored the fines
t of everything. It’s worth more than ten silver!”

  “Wored sir?”

  The thief slammed his fist on the counter. “You know what I mean! She wored it before she died!”

  No doubt they’d stolen whatever “it” was. I noticed Tyree calmly moving over to the wall as the thief became more belligerent. The boy grabbed something and slipped it into his pocket. So this was just a ruse for them to steal another timepiece.

  “If you won’t take it for ten, then I’ll sell it to someone who will!” The thief jabbed his finger at the open door behind him. “There are smarter men than you in abunbance here.”

  The merchant snickered. “Abunbance?” If only he knew he was being robbed. I thought about saying something, but I couldn’t think quick enough to devise a plan. What should my next step be? I needed more time.

  It was too late. Tyree and the man who’d robbed me were storming out. I let them walk nearly to the turn of the street before I started to follow. Were they father and son? They certainly were dressed alike, but something seemed disingenuous about their relationship. I’d heard my mother and Aunt Nann gossiping about other mothers—their neighbors. They always seemed to know who had parental instincts and who didn’t, and they could recognize a father with his child on the street in an instant. Aunt Nann often shamelessly asked the father questions to find out if the child’s mother was still around.

  I could’ve used such insight in this moment, as I still wondered about the two criminals. I hoped they weren’t related. I hoped my thief would separate from Tyree so I could track him without worry of what I might have to do to the boy. Sure, he’d angered me with his thievery, but he was a child, untrustworthy but still innocent in my eyes. I’m sure whatever led him down this path was something more miserable than any punishment I could bring myself to deliver.

  I followed them down many streets, almost losing them with each turn they took. I became acutely aware of the sun and realized close to an hour must have passed. Whatever I was going to do, I had to hurry.