The Shifter Part 7

The polished white face of Saint Saea kept staring over my head, making sure no one walked into the room too loud. Footsteps rose, then fell quiet again.

And still she stared.

"You never listen," I mumbled, sliding forward to kick the statue where her shins would have been. It left a muddy green-gray smear on her marble robe.

The hairy old man harrumphed at me and scooted farther down the bench.

I hung my head, hands in my tangled hair. Why had I let Aylin go to the League? She wasn't going to find out anything Enzie hadn't, and she might get into trouble herself. If no one outside the League noticed missing apprentices, they sure wouldn't notice if one dancer vanished.

My guts said only one person could tell me where Tali was, and if I couldn't find that yellow-green sneak, then I'd make sure he found me. He'd seen me near Danello's home, Aylin's corner, and the boardinghouse. I'd keep making circles between them until he showed his blank-as-a-Saint's face, then confront him. Demand to know where Tali was. Make him take me to her.

More footsteps tap-tap-tapping. And tapping...and tapping...like everyone in the room had suddenly up and left.

I lifted my head and glared at Saint Saea, who was doing a p.i.s.s-poor job keeping her Sanctuary quiet.

Someone sat down on the bench next to me. Yellow and green flickered at the edge of my vision.

Saints and sinners, she did did listen! listen!

It was the second fancy man, the one from last night. This close he was even fancier, his black hair stark against the colorful silk. Pressed silk too, and not a speck on it, despite the rain and muddy puddles.

"Are you Merlaina?" he asked.

For a moment I blinked, confused. Oh! Merlaina was the name I had given the Elder yesterday morning. So even though they'd found me, they didn't know who I really was. I lunged, muscles screaming protest, and grabbed a handful of perfect silk.

I shoved him down on the bench. "Where's my sister?"

"What? I don't know-get off me."

Shocked gasps and worried cries drowned out the echoing footsteps as the few remaining folks ran from our scuffle. I had to threaten quick. Somebody was bound to get their wits back and go find a patrol.

"Tell me where she is!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He shoved back, lifting me off the bench like a sack of coffee beans. He grabbed both my arms tight, and my eyes watered. "Settle down, girl."

He loosened his hold on my arms. I twisted and gripped his now-mussed silk shirt. He grabbed my wrists this time, but I'd worked two fingers under his sleeve and felt flesh beneath. "Tell me where she is or else."

He paused for a heartbeat, then glanced upward and sighed. "Stop being difficult and come with-aarrhhcck!" he cried, collapsing as I pushed pushed the last of my pain into him. He released me and grabbed his thigh. the last of my pain into him. He released me and grabbed his thigh.

"Where is she?"

I heard chuckling coming from the entrance. I snapped my head around as Fancy Man One strolled in. He wore red today. No wonder I couldn't find him. "Take it easy, Merlaina Merlaina," he said, keeping a row of benches between us.

I backed away and b.u.mped into Saint Saea. Her outstretched hands fit my shoulders perfectly.

"You're safe-you don't have to run."

As if I could run anywhere with a Saint holding me down. "Where's my sister?"

"I don't know."

"Liar!"

Fancy Man Two groaned and sat up, his face pale and sweaty from the pain. "Did you see what that 'Veg did to me?"

"Quiet, Morell. I said she was dangerous." Fancy Man One smiled, but I couldn't tell if it meant humor or disdain.

"You're an a.s.s, Jeatar."

Fancy Man One laughed, but at least now I had both their names. In the bedtime stories Mama used to read us, names gave you power over things. I could sure use a little of that.

"We have no interest in your sister," Jeatar said. "Just you."

My hot anger chilled. If they didn't have Tali, then who did?

"Now come along quietly before the patrol arrives and they find out what you can do. I'm sure both the Governor-General and the League would be very interested."

It could have been an empty threat, but it didn't seem wise to test Morell, even if he was having a hard time getting to his feet.

Despite my trembling, I elbowed Saint Saea in her cold marble gut. It was stupid, but somehow this felt like it was all her fault.

Uploaded by Coral

SIX.

We left the Sanctuary and turned right, toward one of the richer neighborhoods. The closer we got, the more dark-haired people we pa.s.sed, and more than a few shot a glare my way. Jeatar kept a hand on my upper arm, gripping it tight, but not enough to hurt, while Morell limped close by without touching me. Was this what had happened to Tali? Had they grabbed her on the way home from the gardens and threatened her with exposing me? A scream quivered in my throat, but Morell looked like he might welcome a reason to shut me up with a smack or two.

"Where are you taking me?" I glanced around, but no one would meet my eyes.

"My employer is interested in meeting you."

"Is he with the Duke or the League?"

Jeatar frowned and shot me an odd look but didn't answer.

"Does he he have my sister?" have my sister?"

Jeatar sighed, and for a second I thought I saw pity there. "We have nothing to do with your sister. We simply have a job opportunity you might be interested in."

If they didn't have Tali, then I didn't need to keep gulping down my fear and playing along. Besides, this looked less like a job offer and more like a kidnapping. I stopped walking, tugging him to a halt. "So what's the job?"

"Sorry, but I'm under strict instructions to bring you in first."

"What if I don't want to go?"

"Then we'll throw a sack over your head and drag you," Morell snarled into my ear. He was sweating heavily now, and the silk around his collar was dark and damp.

I kicked him, jerking my arm out of Jeatar's grasp. Morell swung a fist at my head. I stumbled back, slipping on the wet street and landing on my b.u.t.t. A few folks turned; one even laughed.

"Help!" I called. The ones who'd looked over glanced away fast. I scrambled to my feet, legs sliding every which way like a newborn lamb's.

Jeatar picked me up, pinning my arms to my sides. He shook me once, hard, and my head snapped back. "Settle down," he whispered harshly. "I'm sorry, but it's my job to bring you in, and it will reflect poorly on me if I don't. You're not in any danger, but it's important that we not discuss the details in public."

For all his rea.s.surances, there was only one job I knew of that started with a kidnapping, but I'd be useless healing soldiers in Verlatta. It would, however, get me closer to Tali if they did did have her. have her.

Jeatar continued. "I'd apologize for my colleague, but he's not my responsibility."

Apologies? Trackers were never polite, never protective, and they didn't whisper rea.s.surances, scary as those rea.s.surances were. Maybe this wasn't about Tali, or the League, or anything I'd considered since I'd first seen him.

"You're not a tracker, are you?" I said low so Morell wouldn't hear.

Something flickered in his blue eyes, but I couldn't quite catch it. "No, Merlaina Merlaina, I'm not."

I hesitated over the odd way he said my "name," as if he knew it wasn't mine. "Where are you taking me?"

"Would you like to eat today?"

I blinked. It was an obvious distraction, but a good one.

"Maybe find out something about your sister?"

"Yes."

He smiled, and it almost looked trustworthy. "Then come with me and hear what my employer has to say. That's all I'm asking."

"Except you're not asking at all."

Two merchants deep in conversation nearly b.u.mped into us. They looked up, mouths open, the beginnings of "pardon me" already coming out, then snapped them shut and hurried past, peeking back over their shoulders at Jeatar.

They recognized him! Who did he work for? The Governor-General maybe?

"Coming, Merlaina?"

Could I trust him? Did I even have a choice? If I said no, he'd drag me there. But if I could find out something about where Tali might be, it was worth the risk.

I swallowed and nodded. We walked, his hand on me like a clamp, his manner as cool as a lake stone. I hadn't been this scared since the war, though my guts said I was in more danger now.

Maybe they were mercenaries. Lots had come at the end of the war, some for fighting and others offering paid protection to folks trying to escape. Some had stayed, protecting the Baseeri from those who'd fought even after the rest surrendered. But no one tried to fight anymore. It was too hard to rally folks when they were more worried about food than freedom.

"Are you mercenaries?"

He raised an eyebrow. No denials though. Morell kept glaring and limping, pale as milk now.

We turned down Hanks-Baron Street and stopped in front of a stone building with a high wall around it. The kind of wall you built when you wanted to protect what was inside. My guess was it was something other than the fruit trees sticking out over the top.

Jeatar opened the gate and extended his arm. "After you."

He let go of me and for a heartbeat I considered running, but if this really was about a job and they could also help me find Tali, then I had to give them a chance. I glanced at Morell, who looked minutes away from pa.s.sing out. Maybe I could sneak some pain back to use if I needed to make a fast getaway. I edged closer.

"I wouldn't." Jeatar frowned and nudged me inside a medium-sized room with shelves along two sides, like a shop.

Spices and a bitter metallic odor hit me-raw pynvium? Old, though. The smell stayed in my nose, but it didn't coat the back of my mouth like ore right from the ground always had. Objects of various sizes lined the shelves: silverware, cubes, thin rods, b.a.l.l.s, figurines, wind chimes. Most were painted, but some had that distinctive blue I'd so recently had waved in my face. Expensive trinkets full of someone's pain, ready to be enchanted to trigger and flash.

My shiverfeet returned. "You're pain merchants." New ones too, or I would have recognized the shop.

"We work for a pain merchant, though I can't say how much longer Morell will."

Morell frowned but kept his mouth shut.

"Announce our guest before you run off to the on-duty Taker," Jeatar told him, though it sounded more like an order than a request. "I don't think it's safe to leave you two alone."

Morell limped over to a plain yet forbidding door in the back, tucked behind a slate-topped counter running almost the length of the wall.

"Why have you been following me?" I asked Jeatar.

"To make sure your abilities were authentic, which you so helpfully confirmed there in the Sanctuary. My employer will be pleased. He was already impressed after what the boys at the League and Rancher Heclar had to say."

Saints! How could I have been so stupid? Denying it now would be just as foolish, and probably wouldn't help me anyway.

"I'm sorry we scared you, Nya," he continued, "but we had to be sure before we approached you."

He'd talked to someone besides Heclar if he knew my real name. Had Heclar told him about Danello? He must have, but I couldn't see Danello telling anyone about me. I sucked in a breath. Bahari? Maybe he'd talked out of revenge, for forcing him to take pain he didn't want. But what did Jeatar Jeatar want? Why keep my real name a secret? want? Why keep my real name a secret?

The door opened and a man stepped out, so well-dressed he made the fancy men look like refugees. Mountainous in brocaded silk hemmed with small jewels, and black hair that curled without the slightest frizz. He smelled like a forge. Like Papa. An enchanter, sure as sugar. Though I couldn't imagine this puffed and pressed man standing over the refining flames, enchanting white-hot pynvium as he shaped it into whatever would sell best.

"Is this our girl?" he asked.

"Yes, sir." Jeatar stepped aside. A twitch of distaste flashed across his face. I guess even rich folks didn't like their bosses sometimes.

"Merlaina, please come inside and sit down. You look exhausted." The enchanter wrapped an arm thick as a tree trunk around my shoulders and led me through the door. Wealth dripped from beaded tapestries lining the walls and pooled in carpets thick as pudding. "Sit, sit. Jeatar, bring her some tea, would you?"

That same request-as-an-order tone.

I sat on a couch so soft I almost disappeared into it. "Why am I here?"

"I'd like to offer you a job." He smiled. "I find myself in need of someone with your skills."

"I'm not an a.s.sa.s.sin."

His eyes went wide and he gaped at me for a moment, then laughed. "Quite the imagination, hasn't she?" he said to Jeatar, who was returning with my tea. Again, the flicker. That quiet disapproval sent my nerves twitching more than Morell's threats.

"Sugar?"