The Rogue

So much for telling Rothen I don’t want a husband. And yet … I don’t.

Company and desire weren’t all that a relationship of that kind needed. There must be love, too. Romantic love. And that’s where I falter. Do I love Dorrien? I don’t know. Surely I would know, if I did. Maybe it isn’t so obvious, for older people.

The other ingredient she considered essential was respect, and that troubled her the most. Dorrien is married. If he was unfaithful to Alina with me, I would lose respect for him. And myself.

When she pictured herself telling him this, she felt such a reluctance to spoil things that she was beginning to doubt her own doubts. How could she be unsure whether she loved him, and yet so resistant to ending all possibility of love between them?

How I wish I could talk to Rothen about this. He would disapprove, she knew. At the same time he would point out, perhaps not directly, that it was all her fault for missing her chance with Dorrien. It would upset him that Dorrien and Alina were not getting along.

I wish Dorrien would just take his wife back to the village, she thought, then she immediately felt guilty. At least Alina would be happier, she couldn’t help adding. Dorrien would be too, after a while. It’s where he’s always felt he belonged.

He had adjusted to living in the city remarkably well, though. Perhaps he wasn’t as wedded to the country as he’d always maintained he was. It was fortunate, since she so badly needed his help finding Skellin.

Or do I? Cery still does most of the work. A couple of magicians were never going to match a Thief’s spy network. But I still need someone to help me capture Skellin – even more so now that Lorandra has escaped. I can’t let anything between Dorrien and I prevent us from capturing the rogues.

Not talking to Dorrien was doing exactly that.

The shadows were so long now that only her shoulders were in sunlight. Sighing, she stood and started toward the path that ran alongside the University. I may as well get this over and done with. She reached the path and started walking toward the front of the building. If she left now there would be an hour or two before her shift officially started. Plenty of time to sort this out.

The wait for a carriage and the journey to the hospice seemed to take longer than usual. Her heart was beating a little too fast as she walked down the corridor to the room Dorrien was working in. She knocked on the door and took a deep breath as it opened.

“Black Magician Sonea,” an unexpected voice said behind her. She glimpsed Dorrien’s face – looking both hopeful and guilty – before she turned to face the speaker. It was a young Healer – a shy Lonmar who had decided upon graduation to gain some experience with working among the common people before returning to his home.

“Yes?”

The man bowed, handed her a folded slip of paper, sealed with wax, then flushed and hurried away.

She broke the seal and read the letter. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as she read Cery’s instructions, despite the fact that messages like these had led to disappointment in the past. She turned to Dorrien, who was eyeing her thoughtfully.

“You’re finished here for the day, Dorrien,” she told him. “But you’d best send Alina an apology for missing dinner. We’ve got work to do in the city.”

“Wait here.”

Though short and thin, the man sent to guide them to the meeting place by the Thief called Enka had exhibited a coldness and efficiency that made him more intimidating to Lilia than Cery’s big bodyguard.

There’s something about him that disturbs me, she found herself thinking. I reckon he’d do anything his boss told him to, and it wouldn’t bother him. Anything.

He’d led her, Anyi, Cery and Gol to a half-ruined empty warehouse on one of the less-used wharves of the marina. Anyi had assured her that there were more of Cery’s people involved, following at a discreet distance. They would be finding places to watch from, places they could emerge from quickly if Cery signalled for help.

“Where should we position ourselves?” Anyi asked. She was looking up. “Pity we can’t get up there.”

Lilia followed the woman’s gaze. The frame of the warehouse was exposed, and the huge beams looked more than solid enough to keep the building standing for a long while yet. The end of the building had once had a mezzanine floor, complete with a row of windows, but the floorboards had rotted away or been salvaged. She could see why Anyi thought it a good vantage point. The windows would allow a view of the rest of the dock.

Moonlight shone through the windows, making it hard to distinguish details of the wall. Shading her eyes, she saw that one of the large beams ran along bricks where it had once supported the floorboards.

“If we could, do you think we could balance on that beam?” Lilia asked.

Anyi moved closer, then shrugged. “Easy.” She looked at Cery and Gol. “What about you two?”

Cery looked at her and smiled. “I reckon I’d manage. Gol?”

“I s’pose. But how are we going to get up there?”

“Easily, with Lilia’s help,” Anyi said.

Lilia looked from Anyi to Gol and hid a smile. This wasn’t the first time she’d picked up a little competitive rivalry between the two of them. She followed Anyi to the wall with the first-floor windows. Then Anyi turned and grabbed Lilia’s arms.

“Do your thing, Lilia.”

Creating a disc of magic under their feet, Lilia lifted them both up to the beam. Anyi stepped onto it, grinning. Lilia descended again.

With the merest of shrugs, Cery took hold of Lilia’s arms. She levitated him up to the beam and when he was safely perched on it, holding the frame of the nearest window to steady himself, she dropped back down again.

Gol looked at her, then up at Cery, his eyes wide. He took a step back, palms outward.

“I’m not—”

“Get up here, Gol,” Cery ordered tersely. Lilia glanced up. Cery was peering around the frame of a window, looking outside the building.

She heard Gol step closer and turned her attention back to him. He was hesitating again. She heard footsteps outside the warehouse.

“Now,” Cery hissed.

Someone was coming.

Lilia stepped forward and grabbed Gol’s arms, hoping he wouldn’t cry out in protest or fear. She lifted them both upwards. To his credit, he made only a quiet yip of surprise. She moved to a place on the beam where an upright would give him something sturdy to grab hold of, and he immediately wrapped his arms around it.

With her own feet on the beam, she expanded the disc to form a shield surrounding them all, taking care to make it invisible.

The door below opened. Three men moved inside.

“Silent,” one man said. “The hinge has been oiled.”

“For this, or another meet?”

Nobody answered, and the three looked around the warehouse. One even glanced up at the windows, but didn’t appear to see them. Probably half blinded by the moonlight, like we were.

The men left. Lilia let out the breath she had been holding and moved to a window. The openings had long ago lost both glass and mullion framework. She peered around the edge of the hole, and what she saw outside made her heart stop.

A fishing boat was moored to the wharf. The three men who had inspected the warehouse were walking toward two pairs of people. The first pair was a slim old man who she guessed was Enka, because his companion was the man who had been their guide.

The other couple consisted of a rather fat, well-dressed man and a slim woman who, if anything, was more beautiful in the moonlight than daylight. Lilia’s heart felt as if it had begun to glow inside her.

Naki! I’ve found her at last!

Beyond the two groups were more men. She could not tell if they belonged with Naki’s Thief or Enka.