The Palace Job (13 page)

"Evening, kid." She looked closer. "What is that, a tattoo?"

"It's, er, my birthmark," said the kid, flushing angrily. "And I don't care what you say. You wouldn't be the first to make fun of it!"

"Kid, I'm Urujar. Making fun of your birthmark would be the pot calling the kettle... forget it. Kail, spring the kid, too. He's with us."

"Really?"

"Really. I'll be outside." She sheathed her sword and left the jailhouse.

The men she'd heard were waiting in the street. Just two of them, wearing loose nondescript clothes and holding quarterstaffs whose metal-shod ends had nails driven through them. "Jyelle have message for you," one of them said, his nasal accent marking him as a sailor from the old country. They began to spin the staffs.

"Jyelle should remember that a good scout doesn't send messages she could deliver herself," Loch noted.

"Jyelle say you are fool to come back to her province," said the other one. "You should have run away when you had the chance."

"Her province? Jyelle was a two-bit thief when I saw her in Ros-Oanki," Loch said. "Are you happy taking orders from a girl who rats out guild members?"

That gave one of them the pause—nobody liked a rat. The other one kept spinning his staff. "She tell us what happen," he sneered. "You leave her in the war. Leave her for dead in the Empire. She just put you in jail."

The door creaked open behind Loch. She didn't turn. Instead, she stepped forward, hands raised.

"Kail, please don't make any sudden movements," she said. "Jyelle says that we left her for dead behind enemy lines during the war. Do you remember doing that?"

Kail hmm'd thoughtfully. "There was that brief disagreement when she tried to kill an Imperial family for their food."

"Oh, that." Loch shrugged. "Fight the enemy, not their people."

"I'm guessing Jyelle never took that one to heart, Captain."

The sailor nearest Loch finished his spin with a mocking salutation, his staff jabbing the air just shy of her throat. "Maybe we bring you to her... later, no? It is some time since I have an Urujar woman!"

"Peut-etre je vous connais,"
Kail said suddenly and flawlessly in the language of the old country.
"Je ne veus pas de probleme. Je suis passé beaucoup de temps dans la mer."

The sailors regarded Kail skeptically.
"Dans quelle mer, Urujar?"

Kail grinned.
"Dans to mere!"

The sailors' looks turned murderous, and in that moment, as the one with the staff held at Loch's throat turned toward Kail, Loch moved.

Her hands snapped up, closed around the staff just behind the nail-studded head, and slammed it back into the sailor's face. As he dropped to his knees with a wet moan, she pulled his staff away and speared it like a harpoon down onto the foot of the other sailor.

As he shouted, she cracked the staff up between his legs, spun it as he dropped into the crouch every man in the world recognized, and came down hard on the back of his head. He didn't move.

"You said something about his mother again, didn't you?" Loch asked over her shoulder.

"Don't mess with success, Captain."

"Remind me not to threaten her," the wizard noted, "ever." "Gosh!" said the kid.

Loch turned to the sailor she'd hit first. He had his hands over his mouth.

"You tell Jyelle that her old captain intends to do business in the area," she said. "She can be in my way, or she can be out of my way. Tell her that where she decides to stand isn't going to change my plan. Think you can pass that on?" The sailor nodded mutely. "Good." The staff landed beside him with a clatter. "Oh, and tell her that she was always a lousy scout."

She headed for the city gates without looking back.

Six

Ros-Uitosuf sat near a small fast river that had once been a large slow river, a tumbled collection of grand old houses and humble modern homes. It was hot and humid. The kahvahouses and restaurants paid Urujar children and pretty women to swing fans in the doorways.

The sign outside one restaurant read simply "Uribin's", and showed a plate covered with catfish and potatoes. Loch and Kail went inside, tossing a coin to the Urujar girl fanning cool air their way.

"Ynk 'ura
del
said Uribin, leaping to his feet as they

came in. He was still big and bald, and he'd been eating a lot of his own food over the past few years. He wore an apron with a lobster on it, and his bare arms were still muscular.

"Darveth'isti!"
Loch said, offering a handshake and getting an enormous hug instead. "What's an old friend have to do to get some decent catfish?"

"Ros-Uitosuf is the best in the province, Cap'n," Uribin said with a big toothy grin. "And Uribin's is the best in Ros-Uitosuf."

"Got a private room?" Loch looked out at the gently lit main room, where people—most Urujar, but more white than she'd expected—drank good wine and ate hot spicy food. "Business."

"Done, Cap'n." Uribin gestured to a young woman whose lighter complexion mirrored Loch's. "Denia, show the lady to the back room. Set as many places as she needs." Loch left with Denia, leaving Kail and Uribin alone for a moment. "Trouble?"

"Possibly," Kail said with a wry smile.

"You and the cap'n are family," Uribin said quietly.

"Understood." Kail nodded.

"Family doesn't cause trouble unless they have to."

"Also understood." Kail looked around the room. "You have any problems with Jyelle?"

Uribin snorted. "Some men came once, asking for protection money. I insulted their mothers and then hit them when they got angry. No problems since then."

Kail nodded solemnly. "That usually works for me."

"You're certain, Ketch?" Pyvic asked, relaxing his hold slightly. "I want you to think carefully."

"Definitely, Justicar," said the man with Pyvic's sword pressing against his throat. "Two Urujar, a man and a woman. They met up with a safecracker and her Imperial friend here in town, then left."

"Which way did they leave?" Pyvic's sword didn't move.

"Separately, Justicar. The safecracker and her friend went west, and the Urujar went north. Only thing to the north is Woodsedge!"

Pyvic lowered his sword. Ketch collapsed, holding his throat and staring at Pyvic with big eyes. "Next time I come into town saying I just want to talk, don't go for your knife." As the thief glowered, Pyvic added, "I've heard rumors of a boss in the area, a woman. Tell her that I want the Urujar. I've got no other worries unless someone puts herself in my way. Clear?"

"Clear." The thief nodded. "Thank you, Justicar."

Pyvic turned to Orris. "Get the men ready, Warden. We ride for Woodsedge."

They all sat in the large back room with only three walls—the fourth was a balcony overlooking the river, and the entire restaurant was on stilts on a steep sloping hill. A single lamp lit the room in soft flickering orange, and most of the plates were laden with catfish crusted with sweet potatoes and pecans—save for one plate, which had stir-fried vegetables on it instead.

"The waiters won't be back for an hour," Loch said, breaking the silence. "You all know me. You may not know each other." She took a bite of catfish, closed her eyes and paused for a long moment. "Damn. Missed that." Then she started pointing with the fork.

"Magister Hessler. He does illusions, and he's an expert in magical artifacts."

Hessler squinted. "I wouldn't say I'm an expert, technically, since..." He broke off as everyone looked at him. "Sure, fine, I'm an expert."

The fork pointed again. "Ululenia. Unicorn and shapeshifter, and she can mess with minds."

"I can also purify water, encourage plants to grow, and speak with forest animals," Ululenia added, her horn a rainbow shimmer flickering on her pale brow, "although I don't imagine that will come up."

"You're a
unicorn?"
Dairy exclaimed.

"And serendipitously seated next to a virgin," Ululenia murmured with a sweetly curving smile. Dairy flushed beet-red.

"See? I promised." Loch pointed again. "Icy Fist. Contortionist, acrobat. He's our man on the walls."

"Do you radiate cold magic when you punch people?" Kail asked.

"I do not engage in physical combat," Icy replied, taking a bite from his vegetable plate, "and I possess no elemental magical ability."

"Then why Icy Fist?"

"It is short for 'Indomitable Courteous Fist', which is my full name.

"That's significantly less cool, Icy."

"Tern. Lock-man and tinker."

"Lock-person."

"
Lock-person
and tinker." Loch rolled her eyes. "She recently took out a dwarf-made safe in Ros-Aelafuir, and blew out a jailhouse wall to boot."

"That was you?" Desidora asked. "That was really impressive!" Tern smiled and lifted a wineglass in thanks.

"Sister Desidora," Loch went on. "Death priestess." Tern dropped her wineglass. "She'll be working with Hessler on magical defenses, and she's got an ancient warhammer that will help if it comes to a fight. Which is
not
the plan."

"Besyn larveth'is,"
Ghylspwr declared.

Hessler leaned forward, looking from Ghylspwr to Desidora. "Could I maybe see your talking warhammer for just a minute or two?"

"Kutesosh gajair'is!"

"Maybe not right at the moment," Desidora said.

"And this is Dairy," Loch finished, watching as the boy went beet-red again. "He's here to... well, he's here." She looked around the table. "That's it. Eight of us."

"Nine," Desidora corrected, holding up Ghylspwr.

"Nine?" Hessler asked incredulously. "It's a
warhammer."

"If your little brother counts," Desidora said, dark eyes narrowing, "Ghylspwr counts."

"Besyn larveth'isr

"I'm not his brother," Dairy mumbled. "I'm an orphan."

"As each petal, gently curving in satin embrace, is valued by the rose, so should we count the sweet virgin among our number." Ululenia paused. "He should definitely count. Definitely."

"Nine it is," Loch said, rapping the table with her fork. "The nine of us are going to get this job done."

"And that job is?" Tern asked.

"We're going to sneak up to Heaven's Spire, break into an Archvoyant's palace, and steal back something he stole from my family, something expensive enough for us all to retire on." In the stunned silence, Loch took another bite of the catfish. "Gods, this is good."