She felt sick and her breakfast threatened to come up. This was like a nightmare from which she couldn't awaken. The past kept tracking her down to repeat itself over and over.
Brenden politely rushed the young visitors out. Magiere heard phrases and bits of kind words like "appreciate" and "thank your father" and "the hunter is tired." But once Aria and Geoffry had been bundled off down the street, he turned to her in puzzlement.
"They were just trying to thank you. And it isn't as if such gratitude is unfamiliar. You and Leesil have destroyed undeads and taken payment many times before."
Magiere turned away from him. She couldn't help it, and she looked to her partner for some kind of response, any kind. Leesil drained his teacup, walked behind the bar and filled it with red wine.
"Of course," he said. "Many times."
Chapter Sixteen
At a loss for what to do, Ellinwood left The Sea Lion and hurried home to The Velvet Rose. He needed to think, and he thought best at home.
Once safely ensconced inside his plush rooms with the door closed, he allowed panic to set in. What was he going to do? His first thought was to sell the lovely furnishings all around him. But then he remembered that he did not own them. It was all property of The Velvet Rose. He owned little besides the expensive clothes on his body, the clothing in his wardrobe, a sword that he'd never actually used, and a few personal items such as silver combs and crystal cologne bottles.
Rashed was gone, and there would be no more profits coming in from the warehouse trade.
The constable's own image stared back at him from the oval, silver-framed mirror, and a portion of the panic faded. He cut a fine figure in his green velvet. Of course, some people thought him too large, but the thin were always intimidated by men of stature. He had dominated Miiska for years. He could weather this current situation.
Walking over to the cherry wood wardrobe, he unlocked the top drawer and looked inside. Rashed had not left him coinless, and he had not spent all of his profits. Indeed, if he rationed money for his opiate and spiced whiskey slightly, he could keep himself in comfort for perhaps half a year.
Then a thought struck him. His arrangement with Rashed was not so unique. After all, as Miiska's constable, he knew many things. He had recently discovered that the wife of Miiska's leading merchant was betraying him with a caravan master who came through town six times a year. How much would she be willing to pay to keep her secret? And Devon, one of the council members, had used a large sum of the town's community funds from taxes to pay off a gambling debt not long ago.
Ellinwood's mind began to race. There was no need for fear. When powerful people had secrets, they would pay handsomely for silence. He knew exactly what to do.
But not yet.
First he would change tactics in this Magiere situation and praise her. He would offer her his full support, now that there was nothing left to do, and win back the trust and loyalty of his guards. At the moment, his position was somewhat tenuous. He would become the ideal constable for several months-before taking any action toward quiet extortion. In the end, very little would have to change in his game besides the names of the players.
Feeling safer and more content, he opened the bottom drawer of his wardrobe and removed the opiate and spiced whiskey. He'd never indulged in the morning before, but today was special. He needed comfort.
Soon his crystal-stemmed goblet was filled, and he sat comfortably in his chair to sip.
The entire day passed quickly.
Teesha stirred first that night and sat up with an odd sense of disorientation. Then visions from the night before flooded her mind, and she remembered Rashed settling her in the belly of the old ship.
He lay asleep on the floor next to her. She touched his shoulder.
"Rashed, wake up."
His transparent eyes opened. Just a brief flicker of confusion passed across his perfect features, so quickly she almost didn't notice, and then he, too, sat up, looking like a competent commander again. She'd done well to choose him as the champion of her small family. But he could be so strong-willed. How ironic that such a trait was his only true weakness. Now she faced the difficult task of manipulating him into flight again. It hadn't been easy the first time.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"I could use a needle and thread." She smiled at him.
He never smiled back, but she knew pleasantries on her part always put him at ease. And somehow she gained strange comfort from comforting him.
She examined their surroundings, feeling more aware than she had last night. Apparently, Rashed had come across this abandoned ship one night while exploring. The crew must not have been able to free it, because they simply left it behind, and now trees, shrubs, and moss almost hid its existence entirely. The boards of the deck were old but intact, and no light peeked through to burn them. It was as safe a place as she possibly could have expected.
Rashed walked over and shook Ratboy. "Wake up. We have to go."
Of the three of them, Ratboy still seemed the weakest and least healed. Though most of the dog's bites were closed, a mix of fire and garlic water had taken their toll. He would need to feed again soon.
"Where are we going?" Teesha asked Rashed.
"Back to the warehouse."
"What? Why?"
"Because we have nothing, and we don't know if it burned down completely," he said. "What if the dockworkers put the fire out? Not one of us could blend into a crowd safely like this. We need clothes and weapons. Everything was in the warehouse."
She shook her head. "It's too dangerous. There may be guards investigating. We should just leave tonight. I know it's risky, but we can feed while traveling and steal what we need along the way. After passing through a few households, we should be adequately, if not well, set up."
Ratboy struggled to his feet. "I agree."
"Guards are nothing to us," Rashed said.
"If we disappear, the town will think us dead," Teesha insisted. "The hunter will leave us alone."
For the first time in her memory, Rashed snapped at her in anger. "She'll only stop hunting us if she's lying in a grave!"
Even Ratboy seemed stunned by this outburst and shifted uncomfortably. Rashed pushed open the hatch door.
"Come. We've got to see what happened to the warehouse."
Teesha wasn't angry. She could never feel anger toward Rashed, but his manner unsettled her. She wanted him out of this town and away from the hunter. She never wanted that hunter's blade near him again.
The three of them should just quietly leave. That was the logical course of action. But he was in charge, and she had certainly helped to place him in that position.
With little choice, she and Ratboy followed him outside.
While feeling any sort of sympathy for Rashed seemed impossible to Ratboy, as they all stood staring at the burned remains of what had once been home, he dimly realized that he felt only a small portion of anger and loss compared to the tall warrior who looked on without expression.
There was nothing left. The three of them were now hidden from sight by a huge half-charred crate, but the warehouse structure itself had burned from the inside out, allowing heavy support beams to collapse inward. The tunnels below were probably nonexistent now. Had Rashed not planned that secret tunnel to the beach, they would all be lying crushed under a pile of dirt and beams. Or burned to ash as well.
And therein rested Ratboy's dilemma.
Everything inside Ratboy screamed that Teesha was right. They should leave Miiska tonight and take their chances on the road, killing and resupplying along the way. However, as much as he loathed Rashed's arrogant manner, the self-proclaimed leader of their group was always one step ahead when it came to survival.