Thief's Magic

  “Your body will know what it needs,” the corrupter had said. “Feed it and it will heal itself.”

  Turning her awareness to her body, she directed the magic into her belly and let it go. A tingling sensation filled her abdomen, making her want to scratch deep beneath the surface. It lasted a few breaths before fading away.

  Then … nothing. She felt no different from before. If something had changed then it was so subtle that she could not sense it.

  “Rielle?”

  She jumped, her eyes flying open. A young man was standing in the alley entrance, peering at her.

  “You’ve been gone a while. Are you upset?” he asked.

  Izare. Hearing the concern in his voice, her heart warmed. A traitorous relief followed. He probably thought she had come here to seethe or cry over the painting of Famire. Well, it’s not far from the truth, she thought.

  “No,” she replied, knowing that he’d hear the lie and misinterpret it. She walked around the pit to join him, noticing that he held the pitcher. “Just thinking.”

  He put an arm around her. “Don’t worry about Famire. She’s petty and ugly. She spent the whole time here sniping about other people. I had to imagine what her mouth would be like when it’s not all twisted.”

  “While her clothes were half off,” Rielle reminded him. She resisted the temptation to look back into the alley for a sign of Stain.

  He led her away, towards the fountain. “Not half. A little skin, that’s all. It’s what she wanted. I suspect it’s what she thinks your portrait is like.”

  “Did you show it to her?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He smiled. They had reached the fountain and he dipped the pitcher in. “Because there’s more mystery about it now. Apparently it’s very romantic of you to sacrifice all to be with me, which has made getting a secret portrait done the new fashion.”

  “Secret?” Rielle frowned. “You said she’d got permission from her parents.”

  He chuckled. “I doubt it.” He took her hand and drew her towards the door of his house.

  “What if they find out and object? You lost spirituals as a source of income because of annoying my family, but they’re not as powerful as Famire’s family. They could have you driven out of the city.”

  He pushed open the door and they moved into the cool interior. “There are always risks when you’re an artist. Painting spirituals in a different way was a big risk. Perhaps a bigger risk than a private portrait that could help a young woman attract the eye of the man she wants to marry. Which is a risk that pays a lot better, I have to say.” He reached under his tunic to his belt and, after untying the cords of his money bag, drew it out and pressed it into her hands. It was heavy and full to bursting. She opened it and felt her heart skip. Gold and silver glittered softly.

  If this was half the painting’s price, perhaps it was a risk worth taking. Another risk worth taking, she added, thinking of the healing she had done.

  “Then you’re going to have to let me stay here whenever you paint them,” she said. “You need someone to reassure their parents when they’re finally found out that nothing scandalous happened to their daughters while they were here.”

  He smiled. “Famire won’t like it, but she will have to put up with it. You, on the other hand … can you stand being around her?”

  Rielle sighed. “I’d rather that than get run out of the city because of some silly rich girl.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Izare frowned at the ceiling. Rielle waited for him to say something, but he remained as he was, lying on the bed with his hands behind his head, eyes fixed on the dusty undersides of the flooring above. Keeping her eyes from wandering over his lean, brown chest, she fixed her gaze on his face, determined not to be distracted or to back down. He’d had several days to think about Narmah’s proposal. He’d seemed pleased by her family’s wish to be on good terms.

  She’d thought he was being sensible deciding to think about it for a while, but if she didn’t give her family an answer soon they might assume she’d rejected the offer. Now, as time stretched and Izare said nothing, she felt as if her insides were shrinking and contracting with doubt and fear. Then they seemed to reach a limit and expanded with sudden hot anger.

  “You said you wanted to get married,” she reminded him.

  He rolled over to face her. “I do,” he said gently. “But I don’t want you to move out. I like having you here.”

  Her heart flipped over and she quickly looked away, not wanting him to think that he could win her over with a few, admittedly wonderful, words.

  “I like being here, but I would like to be on good terms with my family, too. It would not have to be for long. My parents will probably want us married quickly. The sooner we are, the sooner the respectability of the family will be … well, not so much restored as patched up. The last thing they’ll want is their daughter having a child out of marriage.” She looked at him. “And it’s not something their daughter would be all that happy about, either.”

  He smiled, reached over and laid a hand on her belly. “The priests have been known to lower the bribe, if the bride is with child.”

  She rolled away and swung her legs over the side of the bed, rocking into a sitting position. “It seems no matter what we do, we won’t get very much time together, the two of us,” she lamented. “It’s a pity what Famire paid you wasn’t enough to pay for both the bribe and the rent.”

  “We can be married and homeless or unmarried with a house to live and work in,” Izare said. “Such is the life of an artist.”

  She shook her head. “I still can’t believe the priests are so corrupt.” She sighed, stood, and moved over to the shuttered windows to peer through the slats. From the angle of the shadows outside she guessed it was mid-morning.

  “It’s later than I thought. I had better clean up and go. Jonare said to come over before midday.”

  “Me, too. I’m meeting Errek at Dorr’s house.”

  Izare stretched, the muscles under his skin shifting in all too interesting ways, then threw off the blanket and stood up in one smooth motion. She averted her eyes, still not used to his unhurried attitude towards dressing of a morning.

  “Anything planned?”

  He shrugged and began to put on his shirt from the day before. “We’ll probably sit and talk. You and Jonare could bring over the results of your cooking lesson later on.”

  Rielle rolled her eyes and handed him the empty water pitcher as he finished tying his trousers. “I suppose we could. If there’s anything edible.”

  He took it and grinned. “I’m sure it’ll be a feast worthy of the Angels.”

  After he’d returned with water for the wash basin, they cleaned up, dressed and set out together. As they passed the garbage pit alley, Rielle resisted the temptation to stare into the shadows to see if the Stain she must have left was visible. She was sure she could feel a wrongness down there, but she dismissed that as her anxiety stimulating her imagination.

  It’s done, she told herself. Hopefully it worked, and I’ll never have to think about magic and Stain ever again.

  A few streets from the artisans’ courtyard they parted, Izare taking advantage of the quiet, narrow streets they had taken to give her a brief but firm kiss. Smiling and enjoying the lingering sensation of his lips on hers, she headed towards Jonare’s home.

  Her thoughts went immediately to the conversation they’d had that morning. It was wonderful to hear him say he didn’t want them to be apart, and she didn’t want to be either, but surely he could see that in the long term it would be better if they were on good terms with her family. There could be benefits for him, and not all of them financial.

  She began to consider how she might persuade him, but her thoughts scattered and her blood went cold as a familiar grey-robed man stepped out of a doorway to block her path.

  “Ais Lazuli,” he said, falling into his habit of staring somewhere below her chin an
d above her waist.

  “Sa-Gest,” she replied. A buzz of apprehension came as thoughts of magic arose, but she pushed them aside. “What brings you into this part of the city?”

  “Well,” he said, then paused. “I was looking … looking for you.”

  “Me?” The uneasiness grew stronger. Did he know? Had he found the Stain? But he hadn’t been back to the courtyard since … her stomach twisted as the awful memory of his visit crashed over her. Since he stole the painting. The nude.

  “You’re … you’re very beautiful, Rielle,” he said, edging closer. His hand extended towards her face.

  “Thank you,” she replied stiffly. She leaned backwards to avoid his hand, but it snaked down to grip her arm.

  “Don’t go,” he said. He pulled her closer. “I could help you, Rielle. A word here, a word there, and I could make your life a lot easier if you did some things for me.” His gaze shifted higher and stopped at her mouth. Fingers moved towards her face again and she flinched away.

  “What are you doing?” she asked loudly, pitching her tone between puzzlement and outrage.

  He paused and looked around, but didn’t let her go. The narrow street was still empty. It won’t be for long, she told herself. If I delay, or can get loose … Sa-Gest was thin but his grip was strong. He might be able to hold her if she struggled, but would probably let go if she hit him. But I can’t hit a priest!

  “Only suggesting,” he said, his gaze returning to her mouth. He grabbed her chin. “Just making an offer. You can refuse it, of course, but I wouldn’t if I were you. I could be very unhelpful as well.”

  He leaned towards her and she realised that he intended to kiss her. Revulsion rose up and she yanked her arm away. He overbalanced and stepped towards her. Dodging his outstretched arms, she twisted around and ran.

  No footsteps sounded behind her. She heard a humourless laugh.

  “I’ll give you time to think about it,” he called after her.

  A few turns and crossroads later, she emerged onto a wider thoroughfare. Heart racing more from alarm than exertion, she stopped and looked back. She’d heard no sound of pursuit. It didn’t surprise her. A running priest was an unusual and alarming sight. People would definitely gossip if they saw a priest chasing a young woman. And she couldn’t imagine him going to the effort.

  No, he expects his threats will bring me to him.

  Her stomach plummeted. What would he do when they didn’t? How much more trouble could he cause for her and Izare? She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Whatever he planned they would have to endure. The idea of letting him kiss or touch her … or worse … was unthinkable.

  She shuddered and continued on her way. Her heart was still beating quickly when she arrived at Jonare’s home. The yells of children spilled over her as the door opened. Shadows circled Jonare’s eyes, but she smiled.

  “Come in. I’ve been up half the night nursing Perri. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Jonare frowned. “You don’t look fine.” She waved Rielle inside. “What happened?”

  “We … I … Sa-Gest stopped me on the way here and…” Rielle stopped and shook her head, not sure if she wanted anybody to know about the encounter. Nothing had happened and perhaps this sort of thing occurred all the time. After all, she hadn’t known about the searches and bribes. “It’s probably nothing. Is Perri ill?”

  Jonare led her over to her small kitchen setup. “Oh, he’ll be fine. The fever broke this morning and, as you can see, he’s back to his old self.” She looked back at Rielle and frowned. “But it’s clearly not nothing.” She waved at a chair, then sat down on a stool. “Tell me.”

  Rielle sat down and sighed. “I don’t know if it’s bad or normal. Sa-Gest tried to … to kiss me and threatened to make our lives difficult if I … if I didn’t do things for him.” Her face warmed and she hoped she wouldn’t have to elaborate.

  “Ah,” Jonare said, looking away as her niece came over to ask for something. She replied to the girl in a quiet voice, then turned back to Rielle. “If this is the priest I’ve heard about, he has a reputation for harassing women. Mostly whores. He thinks those robes he wears give him the right to take what he wants without payment.” Her mouth twisted in a humourless smile. “He’s aiming a bit higher this time. Quite a bit. But I suppose he figures your family won’t or can’t do anything, or that nobody will believe you, or you’ll want to avoid further trouble.”

  “What should I do?”

  Jonare shrugged. “Go home. Or do as he asks.”

  Anger and indignation rose at Jonare’s blunt advice, but Rielle pushed it away. The woman was being honest, which was better than vague reassurances.

  “Surely there’s something else I can do.”

  Jonare shook her head. “The priests hold the power in this city. You might think it was the families, but they’d have nothing without the priests’ support.” She looked thoughtful. “It could be that the priest is doing this for your family’s sake, to frighten you into leaving Izare. They might have guessed you’ll only leave him for his benefit.”

  Rielle’s heart skipped. “So it’s a bluff?”

  “Might be. Can you take the risk that it’s not?”

  “If it is, it’s a strange move to make. I met with my mother and aunt not so long ago. They said if I came home they might let me marry Izare. Why would they say that, if they meant to scare me into leaving him?”

  “What did Izare say?”

  “He doesn’t want me to leave, even temporarily.”

  “And you?”

  “If there’s a way we can be on good terms with my family, it would be better for everyone. Especially in the long term.” Rielle tapped on the seat of her chair. “Perhaps I should tell my family that the priests are trying to scare me into coming home and see what they say.”

  Jonare pursed her lips as she considered. “That’s a risk, too. If the priest’s motives are purely selfish he will act on his threat, and if your parents won’t believe that a priest could do something like that they will think less of you for making up such a thing.”

  “They probably won’t believe me. I could tell Sa-Baro.” Rielle decided against it even as she said the words. “No, he’d be as unlikely to trust me.”

  “Well, whatever you decide, there’s one thing you can’t do,” Jonare told her.

  “What is that?”

  “Tell Izare.” The woman’s gaze was direct and full of warning. “He will do something foolish that will get him in trouble with the priests, and that will make everything worse. For him, for you and for your family.”

  Not tell Izare?! How could she keep something like this from him? And whether she returned to her family or defied Sa-Gest and endured the consequences, he would need to know the reason. Rielle stared at Jonare, but though she opened her mouth to protest no words came out because she realised that if she took the third option – inconceivable as it was – she definitely couldn’t tell Izare.

  It’s not going to come to that, she told herself. Standing up, she looked at the kitchen bench on which vegetables, grains and other foods were arrayed.

  “So, what are you going to teach me to cook?”

  CHAPTER 16

  A familiar ache drew Rielle out of sleep. She sighed. Sometimes she thought the Angels must have a cruel sense of humour, to inflict regular discomfort and weakness on women. Her aunt had always reasoned that it was their way of telling a woman she wasn’t pregnant.

  Not pregnant.

  The thought jolted her into full waking. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. In a few days she would be meeting Narmah and her parents. Izare would be coming with her. She had hoped to convince all of them that she and Izare should marry as soon as possible. The news she was carrying a child would guarantee everyone’s agreement.

  She grimaced. Maybe they would still agree to it. Maybe it wasn’t too much to hope that she could be with the man she loved, be on good terms with her
family and salvage some of her integrity without bearing children so soon.

  But will I ever be able to have them? The question frightened her. If only she could see inside herself and know whether the pathways the corrupter had severed had been repaired. The woman had said it would happen spontaneously.

  Unless … unless she knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. Unless she meant to force me to go back to her and pay to have her fix me.

  She shuddered. Going back to the corrupter was not an option. She had risked too much the first time. If the other choice was to seek that woman’s help, then perhaps she would have to accept that childlessness was her punishment for using magic.

  But Izare …

  He wanted children. Lots of children. How could she deny him that? Her heart constricted. Why should he be punished for her mistake?

  Don’t panic yet, she told herself. This might be normal. Not every woman conceives in the first cycle.

  Thinking back, Rielle recalled how the corrupter had made her see the change she’d made. If she could remember how to do that, she would at least know if her healing had worked. She had not needed to use magic to do it.

  Closing her eyes, she laid her hands low on her belly. She slowed her breathing and concentrated on the area below her hands. A thrill of hope went through her as she found she could sense … but what was she sensing? Pulsing, shifting, twisted things that she did not understand. A confusion of areas that were her mixed with those that were not. The cramping distracted her, demanding she pay attention to it. Concentrating on it did ease the pain. Then she felt a far more familiar sensation.

  She was up a moment later and seeking to stem the flow with her store of clean rags. Izare remained asleep, to her relief. She was not used to any man being near when she had to deal with this and he preferred to be absent when she did. Looking at the bed, she mouthed a silent curse as she saw the red stain on the bed sheet. Then her whole body went cold.

  Floating above the stain was a disturbance.