Chapter Two A Better Liar than Anyone #2
But Jubilee’s first theft stung his heart. “Stealing helped people you loved. Then one day you saw a fat purse swinging from the hip of an oblivious…young man? Head in the clouds, or reading a book and walking at the same time?”
Jubilee’s lips tightened, but she glanced at Saeldian, who was standing still and quiet.
“You got caught. But when the pretty elf caught you, they offered you a job, and your share was more money than you ever saw stealing from shops.”
Saeldian didn’t move as Kell told the story of how he and Saeldian met, but Jubilee leaned forward a little.
“Charmhand’s great. Clever, right? Fun and funny.
They make you feel like you’re half of a whole.
Bread and butter. You’ve been dressing better for years.
Eating better. And it’s fun to pull off these schemes, isn’t it?
You never imagined what a good friend you’d have, or how you could do anything, even though it’s just the two of you against the world. ”
That was the wrong thing to say. Kell felt it the moment he said it.
Jubilee leaned back. She shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong. Sheld isn’t like that. They’re walking away to let you have a chance. And your thanks is this—telling a mean little story from a cold reading off a mark, trying to take their friend away.”
Fuck.
“Come on, Sheld.” Jubilee stood up. “You’re right. It isn’t worth it.”
Now Saeldian looked shocked, but this time at Jubilee. “I did catch you stealing my purse while I walked and read a novel.”
Jubilee shrugged. “Oldest trick in the book. Come on. The roof will keep.”
Briona set her goblet down, and the soft thump snared everyone’s attention.
“Well! Interesting backstory. I’m quite intrigued, of course.
But now, to the point. You agreed to the job, Saeldian.
You did too, Jubilee. Explicitly. Neither of you are going anywhere, so you may as well sit down and hear the rest.”
“Release us,” Jubilee said. “We don’t know anything, so you can let us go. We’re not stupid enough to tell anyone.”
“Release you?” Kell asked. “What are you talking about?”
“She didn’t offer a toast after you specifically said you’d do the job?” Jubilee asked.
“No. We were…invited to converse in a quiet alley and told to meet here.”
“Did she give you anything?” Saeldian asked.
Kell shook his head. “Just the tokens for a few nights’ lodging and meals.”
“And for the baths! Kell loves a hot bath. Oh, and—” Lorzok fished a flat gray rock out of his pouch. “And this stone.”
Kell stared at it. “What?”
Saeldian and Jubilee shared a glance, a nod. Kell reached into his own pouch.
“I don’t have one,” Kell said. “I just have tokens.”
“Are you sure?” Saeldian asked.
“There’s nothing else in here. Look.”
He cupped the bottom of the pouch and poured the contents into his hand—some tokens marked with a bathtub, many more marked with a mug and a fork, shiny new ones stamped with a bed—
Jubilee stretched out a hand to stop him. “Wait.”
—and a flat, rounded gray stone that landed on his fingertips.
Jubilee groaned. “Too late.”
The soft blue-gray stone swelled at his touch. It didn’t look bigger, but it expanded, as if it were taking in a breath. He hadn’t seen it. It hadn’t been there. And as the stone contracted, a soft brushing of magic sank under his skin and into his bones.
He wanted to drop it, but it didn’t matter.
He knew what was woven into this kind of stone, which formed with a natural hole in it.
Fey magic. Kell remembered it as vividly as the smell of moon-bathed starflowers as they hummed in the Feywild’s eternal twilight.
It felt like three strings vibrating his senses awake before suddenly weighing him down.
Damn it! He looked up from the stone into Briona’s pale eyes and searched her face—human, bearing the faintest lines at her eyes and beside her mouth, her ears pierced with plain silver hoops, each one holding a silver charm.
A hare, ears high, and a hart, with a wide, delicately wrought antler rack.
She looked back, and her effort not to smile at a trap cleverly shut made his blood heat up.
He couldn’t punch a Zhentarim. Both of them knew that.
“Just like us.” Saeldian glared at Briona. “You bound them too.”
“What are they talking about?” Kell asked. He knew. But he wanted her to say it.
Briona’s answer was to lift a pendant on a chain. “I needed both of you. And since I suspected you wouldn’t agree, I resorted to indirect methods.”
Another holed gray stone dangled from her fingers. This one was wrapped in fine silver wire that braided around the edges, its surface uneven from a spell smith hammering the braid into a pendant.
Saeldian murmured an obscene complaint. “That’s underhanded.”
Kell closed his eyes and sighed. “Fuck.”
Don’t accept gifts. Not food, not drink, not even a flower.
Lorzok brushed his shoulder as he leaned closer. “Is that—are these vowstones?”
“Indeed they are, Saer Seeker.”
“What are those?” Saeldian asked. “Do you know how they’re made?”
“I do not,” Lorzok said. “But no one on this plane can make them. Where did you get them?”
“I don’t need to tell you that,” Briona said. “But I’ll give you this. I didn’t make them.”
Lorzok hummed, but it sounded like a growl. “And you won’t release us.”
“The job is too important. We’re wasting time. And now that you know you have to work together, you may as well sit down.”
Saeldian didn’t look at him. That was fine. Jubilee Righthoof glowered at him so fiercely he was already resigned to the confrontation afterward. Lorzok looked worried, though, and that bothered him.
“All right, how about we get started? The sooner we’re done, the better,” Kell said.
“As you all know, a significant sum of gold is on offer for the successful completion of this task,” Briona said.
“This is a tricky job. It will require speed and discretion. I need you to retrieve a spell gem called the Kiss of Enduring Love, and then I need you to return that stone to its rightful owner without them learning that the stone was ever gone in the first place.”
“A spell gem with a name like that?” Saeldian’s voice carried enough scorn that Kell didn’t need to see their expression. “I already don’t like it.”
Of course you don’t. Kell caught sight of the chandelier above the table. Someone had dusted it recently.
“It implies a coercive element, to my ears.” Saeldian shot him a sharp look.
He’d muttered it out loud. He looked straight at them and said, “Of course it does.”
Briona spoke again, cutting off the reply Saeldian opened their mouth to deliver. “The Kiss was stolen and then sold to a local collector of art and precious jewels, as it is an impressive rose sapphire with a particularly masterful cut. As a mere gem, it’s incredibly valuable.”
Jubilee put one hand on Saeldian’s arm and squeezed. Kell read Sit back and cool off in that gesture before she asked, “Do you know what the spell gem does? I don’t like the idea of a stone that forces someone to feel love any more than Saeldian does.”
“The client said that holding it lets you relive the memory of the first kiss you shared with your true love. Not terribly sinister, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, is that all?” Kell said breezily. “Then Saeldian has nothing to worry about.”
It was Lorzok’s turn to shift and squeeze Kell’s arm. “Kell. If you have to be unkind, the explanation will just take longer.”
That stung. Lorzok was right. Kell hadn’t turned his life around just to backslide into the hurt, snappish person Lorzok had patiently befriended. “Sorry. Please go on.”
Lorzok tilted his head, considering, and then asked, “Who is the client?”
Kell, Saeldian, and Jubilee said, “That’s none of our business.”
Lorzok shook his head. “You’re not talking about stealing it, are you? We’re adventurers, certainly, but that doesn’t make us thieves!”
“I’m sorry,” Saeldian said, “but that’s exactly what we’re talking about. Stealing it back for the client it was stolen from. Because we’re—not thieves. Retrieval specialists.”
Mariel stared at them intently, and Saeldian actually looked away. Guilt? From Saeldian? Were fish swimming in the sky?
Jubilee looked embarrassed. “That time in the tea shop was on the line.”
Mariel turned that look on Jubilee. “I know something about testing where the line is, girl. You were about to find out how flexible it can be.”
Lorzok spoke up then. “Can you explain what you mean, Jubilee? I understand that you make a distinction, but I don’t understand the difference.”
Jubilee answered. “Easy. We have skills in common with thieves and other criminals, but we use them differently. Stealing back what’s stolen. Con games to expose someone who won’t get justice otherwise.”
Kell sighed. “Interesting reason! But it’s still crime.”
Saeldian scowled. “Gone legitimate, then? Hoping the Harpers will notice you?”
Kell turned his urge to smile into a knife. “Wasn’t hard, in the right company.”
“I’m not responsible. The Oak Father just made sure I was there when it happened,” Lorzok said, and Kell wasn’t sure if he was trying to put balm on Kell’s insult. “But, Saer Briona—”
“You can call me just Briona.”
Lorzok nodded graciously. “Thank you. But I don’t see why this isn’t a job for the Guard. Your client is the victim of a crime, the object’s location is known—”
“The Guard can’t handle this. There’s not enough time to wait for them, and given the specifics of the people involved, it would be…complicated. The person who bought the item is Lady Elezia Tarm—”
Jubilee sat back. “Elezia the dragon?”
“She can’t really be a dragon,” Lorzok objected.
“Nickname. She hoards treasure. Art, jewels, that kind of thing,” Saeldian said.
“If the client needs it back fast, they can’t report it to the Guard.
” Jubilee picked up a wedge of cheese and considered it.
“The Tarms are a powerful noble house, and reporting it would be accusing her of a crime. That’s sure to slow the gears of justice, even if she is a second daughter of a second son. ”