Page 7 of Thief of Souls
My thief’s soul quivers at the thought.
But I wipe at the goat’s cheese staining my lovely gown. “There’s always an ancient prophecy. There’s always an angry goddess—or god. And there’s always some idiot thief who finds themselves talked into a job like this.” I toss the crumpled napkin aside. “Do you know what happens to that thief? They die. I know how this story ends, and my answer is no. Find yourself another thief. I don’t want fame. I don’t want glory. I don’t want anything to do with power-hungry fae princes and a mythical cauldron everyone wants to get their hands on.”
“You haven’t heard all the details.”
“I don’t want to hear all the details!” I drag my finger across my throat. “Because this is what happens to curious thieves.”
“What do you want then?”
Freedom.
“Something I can’t have.”
He gives me a considering look, but wisely, he doesn’t pursue that line of thinking. “You owe me a debt.”
I set both hands on the table and glare over it at him. “Then take it out of my hide.”
He leans forward. “You tried to steal from me, and I’m just as dangerous as any of the fae princes in the lands. Don’t tempt me, Merisel, because if I demand payment, then you won’t like my terms.”
Every inch of me stills.
“Perhaps this will help you change your mind.” He tosses something on the table between us, though I swear his hands were empty just now.
It’s a sheet of paper, curled up on itself. I unroll it and a line drawing of my sister’s face appears, along with the word “Wanted.” The reward is ten thousand groats, which makes my shoulders deflate.
For ten thousand groats, every hob and selkie and brownie in the lands will be looking for her.
Soraya and I have a complicated history.
Once upon a time, she was the other half of my soul. When our father plucked us from the world and threw us into the training camps, she was the only one I could turn to. We would sleep in each other’s arms at night when the nightmares threatened. If I was flogged for failing in my training, she’d be the one who cut me down from the posts and tended my back. If she was starved, I was the one who stole food and water from the cook tents for her, despite the risk to my own life.
You never forget that.
I needed her with a desperation that went soul-deep, and I’d thought she needed me too. And then our final trials began and she left me behind because I was injured—and if neither of us crossed the finish line in time, then we would both die.
She chose herself over me.
And there’s a part of me—the part that was raised in the wraithen court, where mercy only ever cost you—that understands that.
There’s also a part that bleeds, because we were supposed to be more than that. We were supposed to be better than the rest of them. Instead, she only proved my father’s point.
I have no family.
The only one I can rely upon is myself.
But still….
“What do you mean?” My voice roughens as I smooth the paper out. “Where is Soraya? What did you do?”
“Me? Nothing.”
It’s difficult to believe. “Shedidtry to kill you.”
“She’s not the first,” Keir replies with a shrug. “And she won’t be the last. No. I had nothing to do with her disappearance.”
“Disappearance?” This time my gaze snaps to his.
“Curiously enough,” he continues, “it was how I discovered the existence of the horn. Your sister wasn’t in the forefront of my mind until one of my spies happened to chance across her. Or her description, rather. I plucked his memories from his dreams and imagine my shock when I saw her face.”
