The Phoenix Thief

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"An observation I am singularly unqualified to judge." Boron sounded so close Joakim shivered. "But the light of the spell can sometimes be surprising. Are you sure that didn't draw your notice?"

"It wasn't green," Marcus said. "And it didn't move right. I think someone's here."

Erstas waved his orb, and the light of Joakim's lantern went out. Joakim cursed him. His plan to bluff their way out of this crumbled. Guilty men skulked in the dark. Innocent ones walked confidently. How could Erstas have reached old age not knowing that? But there was no time to chide him. Before Joakim could stop him, Erstas shuffled along to where a thin ladder leaned against the towering shelves.

Glancing up, Joakim wondered if Erstas might have a point. The dusty bookshelves stretched into the darkness above them. It might well be enough to conceal them from light-blinded eyes. Even on their wisest day, honest men rarely had the wits to look over their heads. A peek at Erstas's face confirmed the decision. Joakim prided himself on his lies, but lies need a straight face to tell them. Erstas looked as guilty as a child near a broken pot.

Erstas paused as he took the first step, but Joakim had no time for his foolishness. As dumb as hiding might be, it must be their best plan now. He shoved Erstas upwards without a sound, but the moment Joakim put his foot upon the rung, the ladder creaked alarmingly and he froze.

"There! What was that?" Marcus asked, closer now.

A strange flash of deja vu ran through Joakim's head. Surely he had been here before–waiting, flinching, praying to Spirits he barely believed in to save him from some terrible fate. The thought perplexed him, fleeing from recollection like a fish before a shark.

"I heard it," Boron said, "but I must confess my library has her own noises. She strains and stretches from the business of the day."

"Does she have her own lanterns, too? I swear I saw a light."

"What are you doing here anyway, brother?" Boron asked, his tone indicating that he felt Marcus had imagined it. "You must have had a long day, why make it longer?"

"I am not a cat," Marcus replied. "I can't doze forever. Helfor has gone to the town as Gremilda bid, but he doesn't trust these strangers. He looks for some way to banish them before Midsummer."

"Cats have it right," said Boron, "wolves run too fast and too long. These strangers will be banished soon enough. I've spoken to Scholar Millius, he has no plans to disobey the mistress's edicts. They will go without argument."

"But what brings them here in the first place? That is the question that bothers Helfor. Now, especially. Five years between Standings and they arrive just days before the next, and with an injured ogre no less. He does not trust the timing."

"Helfor does not trust easily," Boron said.

The light grew closer. Peering between the spines of the books, Joakim saw the two of them; Marcus tall and handsome, Boron white and waif-like. They ambled no more than a few shelves away. Joakim's heart pounded in his chest. Lies, convoluted and twisting, formed and reformed in his head. It seemed certain they would be found, but then for the second time in as many nights, a wolf's howl chilled the air.

"Another attack," Marcus said, his voice gruff. "Something about downed sheep."

"Just the thing to calm Helfor's fears," said Boron, wryly. "But I doubt it will change Grem's mind. I stand by what I said, coincidence does not mean causation. Nothing I have seen of these strangers suggests that they mean us harm."

Boron can't see anything, thought Joakim, but Marcus has vision enough for both of them. He watched as the two men stepped into clear view.

Marcus faced away from them, his blonde hair pale gold in his lantern's light. Boron, thin as a candle, had his face towards them, his white eyes sparkling in the paltry light.