drug.
'This is Sonea,' Faren said, his mouth stretching in a humorless smile. 'Sonea, meet Ravi.'
'Hello,' Sonea said softly. Ravi took a step backward. His face had turned white.
'This is ...
All turned toward the voice. The old man had pushed himself to his feet and stood glaring at Faren. Sonea gave a little gasp and staggered away.
Faren placed his hands on her shoulders and steadied her. 'Don't worry Sonea,' he soothed. 'He wouldn't dare hurt you. If he did, we'd have to tell the Guild all about him, and he wouldn't like them to discover that he's not dead, as they believe.'
Cery turned to stare at the old man, suddenly understanding why the stranger hadn't bothered to acknowledge his nod.
'You see,' Faren continued, his tone smug, 'you and he have a lot in common, Sonea. You're both protected by Thieves, you both have magic, and you both don't want the Guild to find you. And now that you've seen Senfel here, he won't have any choice but to show you how to control your magic - because if he doesn't, the magicians might find you, and you might tell them about him.'
'He's a magician?' she breathed, staring at the old man with wide eyes.
'An ex-magician,' Faren corrected.
To Cery's relief, her eyes filled with hope, not fear.
'You can help me?' she said.
Senfel crossed his arms. 'No.'
'No?' she echoed softly.
The old man frowned, then his lip curled with contempt. 'Drugging her will only make it worse, Thief.'
Sonea drew in a sharp breath. Seeing the fear return to her eyes, Cery moved to her side and grasped her hands.
'It's all right,' he whispered to her. 'It's only a sleeping drug.'
'No, it's not all right,' Senfel said. He narrowed his eyes at Faren. 'I cannot help her.'
'You have no choice,' Faren replied.
Senfel smiled. 'Don't I? Go to the Guild then. Tell them I'm here. Better that they find me than I die when she loses control of her powers.'
Feeling Sonea tense, Cery turned to face the old man. 'Stop frightening her,' he hissed.
Senfel stared at him, then his eyes flickered to Sonea. She glared back at him defiantly. The old man's expression softened a little.
'Go to them,' he urged. 'They will not kill you. The worst they will do is bind your powers so you cannot use them. Better that than death, eh?'
She continued to glare at him. Senfel shrugged, then straightened and fixed Faren with steely eyes.
'There are at least three magicians nearby. It would take little effort to call them, and I'm sure I could prevent you from leaving while they found their way to this room. Do you still wish to reveal my presence to the Guild?'
Faren's jaw shifted as he stared back at the magician.
He shook his head.
'No.'
'Go - and when she's sober repeat what I said to her. If she does not seek the Guild's help, she will die.'
'Then help her,' Cery said.
The old man shook his head. 'I cannot. My powers are too weak and she is too far gone. Only the Guild can help her now.'
Dragging a barrel out from under the table, the bolhouse owner dropped it on the bench with a grunt. He gave Dannyl a meaningful look as he began filling mugs and handing them around the table. Leaning forward, he smacked a mug down in front of Dannyl, then crossed his arms and waited.
Giving the man a distracted frown, Dannyl handed over a coin. The man's gaze did not waver. Looking down at the drink, Dannyl knew he could avoid it no longer. He was going to have to drink the stuff.
Lifting the mug, he took a tentative mouthful, then blinked in surprise. A sweet, rich flavor filled his mouth. The taste was familiar, and after a moment he recognized it. Chebol sauce, but without the spices.
A few mouthfuls later he felt a warmth filling his belly. He raised the mug to the shop owner and received an approving nod in reply. The man did not stop watching him, however, and Dannyl was relieved when a young man stomped into the shop and started a conversation.
'How's business, Kol?'
The man shrugged. 'The usual.'
'How many barrels you want this time?'
Dannyl listened to the pair barter. When they had arranged a price, the newcomer settled onto a chair and sighed.
'Where's that strange one with the flashy ring gone?'
'The Sachakan guy?' The barman shrugged. 'He got done weeks ago. Found him in the alley.'
'Really?'
'It's true.'
Dannyl snorted softly.
'Heard about that fire last night?' the barman asked.
'I live near there. It took out a whole street. Good thing it weren't summer. Could've burned the whole slums.'
'Not that the city folk would care,' the barman added. 'Fire'd never get past the Wall.'
A hand touched Dannyl's shoulder. He looked up and recognized the thin man that the Thieves had chosen to be his guide. The man jerked his head toward the door.
Dannyl finished his bol and put down his mug. As he stood, he received a friendly nod from the owner. Smiling, Dannyl returned it, then followed the guide to the door.
Chapter 15
One Way, or the Other...
Sonea watched as water, seeping through a crack high on one wall, gathered into a droplet, ran down the empty lamp hook, then dove off to splatter on the hard floor. Looking up again, she watched as another droplet formed.
Faren had chosen her latest hide wisely. An empty underground storeroom, with brick walls and a stone bench for a bed, it held nothing flammable or valuable.
Except herself.
The thought sent a ripple of fear through her mind. Closing her eyes, she quickly pushed it aside.
She had no idea how long she had been in the room. It could have been days, or merely hours. There was nothing to measure time by.
She had not felt the familiar shift within her mind since arriving. The list of emotions which could set off her powers had grown so long that she no longer kept a mental count of them. Lying in the storeroom, she had concentrated on staying calm. Each time a thought disturbed that calm, she took a deep breath and pushed it away. A comforting detachment had settled upon her.
Perhaps the drink Faren had given to her had caused that.
