Thieves at Heart Page 7

CHAPTER 7

  SOMETHING FOR NOTHING

  Tavera wasn’t wearing her belt on purpose. She could have worn it but Derk had said Shot would be there with Lights and she would have to make an impression so the accessory was left in the room. It was of soft brown leather, rather plain though she had found some pretty green beads to tie at the ends of the laces that kept it tied under her chest. Tavera wore the loosest tunic she had and a skirt and as she leaned over the game board; she could see Lights’ dark eyes straying, trying to look down her shirt. The tunic was a bit too big in the shoulders, meant to show the collarbones, as was the style. It draped past her shoulder, her brown skin a splash of color in the otherwise drab room. Her dark, thick hair brushed her shoulders and she put it behind her good ear, smiling at Lights.

  Tavera had taken him in when she had first seen him so she could spend the rest of the meeting distracting him and listening to the adults. Shot was there, Derk was there, a redheaded woman who went by Drink was there, all of them looking over a map of the city drawn in chalk on the wooden table in the center of the room. Drink had drawn it and was doing most of the talking, the person in the group who had spent the most time in the spice towns of Redtree, Truehome and Spicehill. The take was for just that: spices. It was high summer and hot in the room. Tavera took another sip of the ale Shot had brought. It tasted like healer’s hand, spicy but sweet, and she took a gulp of it, wiping her mouth with her hand.

  It wasn’t that Lights wasn’t good looking. Dirty-blond curls framed his face and he had dark brown eyes. Almost a pretty boy except he tended to have a melancholy air about him that some found off-putting. Derk had told Tavera where Shot had found him and that he wasn’t supposed to tell her but it hadn’t been so far-fetched. Shot had been at the ‘men’s home’ for a business meeting and found the boy there, serving drinks. Lights looked like the kind of boy a man could desire, though the looks he was giving her told her he didn’t think of men the same way. Tavera thought he was cute but he didn’t make her face hot. And she wasn’t there to look at boys, she was there to work.

  Spicehill actually had a wall around it with gates that opened and closed. There were roads common folk weren’t allowed to walk on unless they had a pass and ones they were forbidden from completely. The places where the redtree groves and blacknut vines grew were also guarded and anyone who worked there was checked before they left to be sure they weren’t stealing anything. The lake grew large aquatic flowers in various colors, the silvery-gray ones prized for making incense for the temples; the roots were used to make a potent, mind-altering tea reserved only for priestesses. Redtree also had a wall around it but not the variety of spices for trade, and Truehome held the Baron Mielkin’s urban home, the grounds dotted with dozens of beehives supplying some of the most interesting honeys in the Valley.

  Drink was going over the gates of Spicehill, the schedules for the openings and closings of each one, the number of guards and the proximity of the gates to the spice stores and warehouses. The three blocklords were not to be trusted. The trio kept itself in balance to the benefit of them all and wouldn’t tip their scales for fear of winding up with less in hand than the others. If they caught wind of any plan, they would be after them and on them. In addition, the guards also possessed special dogs at the gates that could sniff out spices.

  Tavera listened to all their ideas, talking over the various shop owners and processors of the spices. She moved her game piece on the board, seeing Lights smirk as he captured one of her pieces. A look of disappointment crossed her face and she shrugged. “Can’t you go easy on me?”

  “Have you ever played Foxes before?” Lights asked, looking down her shirt again. Tavera didn’t understand what he was staring at. There was nothing there to see, nothing to warrant that much staring. She knew, she looked at them every day. Maybe Tavera was wrong about Lights; maybe he was into men. She should have worn britches in that case.

  “A few times. I like cards more.” The group was now talking over the strength of the wall, weak points in the masonry, places where it would be easier to climb.

  “Did you bring any cards?” Lights had a fine voice that was almost done with changing, most of his speaking tones deeper rather than higher, a pleasant sound. He could probably get a job as a singer in a hall as long as the change didn’t treat him too unkindly. It hadn’t thus far. Tavera shook her head and lay on her belly, propping her chin against her hands as she looked over the board. The tones of the adults were starting to sound more exasperated, Derk circling the table with one arm crossed over his chest, one hand at his chin. Drink was refilling in a few spots that Hock had rubbed out with his finger.

  “You know, I’m from the southern Valley,” Lights said, obviously trying to make conversation. He watched her hand as she moved her dam to protect the kits, leaving her sire wide open. He went in for the kill, killing her sire with his own, removing the piece of carved wood from the board.

  “You don’t say?” she asked, shifting on her elbows. It was hard to lie like this, the hard floor against her stomach and hipbones, and she sat up finally, taking another gulp of her drink. Tavera had pretty much lost the board game but she didn’t mind. They hadn’t been playing for money and if she played her cards right, she’d come out on top in the long run.

  “Yeah,” he answered back. And that was all he replied. Tavera stared at him, expecting him to say something more but realizing he knew he had nothing to say. He wasn’t from Spicehill so he couldn’t show her around. And he may have been born in the South but it meant nothing now except that he might have a higher tolerance for finger peppers. He smiled at her finally, a nice smile, and for a breath Tavera felt a bit guilty. Here they were, two children, two apprentices in the same line of work and instead of trying to make a friend of him, she had tried to distract him, throw him under for her own gain. But then he looked to her chest again and she didn’t feel as bad anymore.

  “Kiff,” Derk called, and he gestured for her to come over. She smiled at Lights before she stood up, shaking out her skirts as she took the few steps to bring her to Derk’s side. She looked to where his attention was. “Kiff, what do you see here?”

  Tavera had heard all that they had said about the wall, the ways that were barred to them, the locks, the dogs, the punishments. “I see…that maybe we have to have someone else do our taking for us.”

  Hock placed his hands on the table. Sweat was starting to gather under his armpits and his sweaty knuckles smudged the chalk where his skin touched it. “How do you mean, girl?”

  “Well, there’s so much watching on the walls and around the town,” she said. Her fingers played with the collar of her tunic as she tried to organize the thoughts she had formed during her board game, when Lights had been too busy staring at her and winning. “The best way would be to wait till someone from without came to get their own, then left, so we could take it from them. The guards keep logs of everyone coming into town, and how long they’ll be there. How hard would it be to get a log, look it over for a mark, return it and then head out?” Tavera remembered how they’d had to state their business and an estimated length of time they planned to be in the city, a gate tax asked from the both of them. The guard had assured them that there would be a hefty fee added if they stayed longer than they said, handing them a scrap of fabric with a picture on it. If they lost the fabric they would get another fine. Derk had grumbled about it the entire time they walked to the inn, still muttering about it as he sat over a mug of needleleaf beer. Of all the people who had come for the take, Shot and Lights had put in for the shortest amount of time, all of them giving a different length so as not to draw suspicion.

  All of the adults looked at one another. Tavera could almost hear a buzzing as their eyes all flashed round, trading thoughts with looks, all of their eyes looking at her occasionally. Drink smirked at Tavera. “It’s hardly glamorous. Road robbery.”

  “You didn’t ask me for the most glamorous. You asked what I
’d do. I’d go this way, which still gets me a good bit. People who come through here to buy don’t leave with enough for a bowl of bone and broth, they leave with a good amount, they spend a grip or two to take back.” Tavera was fairly certain that she had heard that those who traded in Spicehill usually served whole towns or came with the money of several people at a time. Spicehill could guard what was within the walls but they couldn’t afford escorts for everyone who came to buy and not everyone who came to buy would come with bodyguards and swords. “If you want glorious, go to Truehome and set fire to the Baron’s keep with him inside, start a riot so that the pickers and the guards can have free reign of the fields and the warehouses.” Tavera shrugged. “Are we looking for glory or spices?”

  Hock laughed out loud, his shoulders shaking. Tavera looked to Derk. His mouth was covered with his hand but he was looking at her with some kind of emotion. She couldn’t tell if it was pride or disapproval. Drink looked to Lights, who was still sitting in front of the game, his face blank. Tavera was confused. Had she given the wrong answer? Finally Derk smiled at her and patted her on the shoulder before all the adults broke away from the map and started talking among themselves.

  “I’m headed to the Two Headed to have a drink with Hock. Will you clean the map and meet me up there when you’re done?” Derk asked. Everyone else was gathering up their things, making plans. Lights got up and threw the game board into his pack, giving Tavera a look she couldn’t decipher just yet and she nodded at Derk. “You did alright, Kiff.” He smiled again, turning to leave with everyone else. He looked back at her one more time before he disappeared out the door, his big boots stomping heavily down the steps.

  Tavera stood there for a moment, wondering what had just happened. She shook her head free of the questions and looked down to the ground, finding a bucket of water and a cloth. Sweat dripped down her side as she dipped the cloth in, wringing it out over the wooden table. The water splattered and made dark circles on the wooden surface, making spots on her tunic and brushing against her skin when she moved. Tavera sighed as she wiped away at the chalk marks on the table, destroying the evidence scrawled there. The white chalk buried deep into the wood and so she had to drown it out with big scoops of water, spreading it out so it would dry quickly in the heat. A lock of hair fell into her eyes and she pushed it away, wetting it with her hands in the hopes it would stay back. She looked at the table and then back at the bucket. She would need more water.

  The stable boy at the inn traded her empty bucket for a full one and she flashed him a smile that made him grin back, heading back up toward the staircase leading up to the little room. A familiar head of curls caught her eye and followed her but she didn’t bother to turn and acknowledge him, keeping her eyes forward.

  “Hey,” Lights said when she was halfway up the stairs, his gaze set on her. She tossed her head at him and continued up to the room, careful not to spill the water. Tavera didn’t bother closing the door. She knew he would close it when he got to the room and he did, a quiet thud punctuating his arrival.

  “I know you tricked me into not paying attention at the meeting,” he shot at her. Tavera rolled her eyes and dipped the cloth into the bucket, squeezing it onto the table again.

  “I’m not the one who was so taken by hardly nothing at all,” she said, mocking him with her tone. “Besides, no one asked for your input, so no one found out you’ve got nothing in your head but eyes and a tongue. Though I’m sure your pa noticed Hock didn’t so much as look at you the whole time.” She looked over her shoulder, expecting him to look angry or even embarrassed. Instead the young man looked distressed, his eyes lost as his thoughts rattled in his brain.

  “He’s not my pa,” he answered finally, and she thought she heard him choke, a crack in his voice giving away his age. “And asides, you and the Lurk ain’t fooling anyone. Who do you think you are? You’re just another set of hands to tear out a share, you know! And not for who you think, neither! Hock’s just using everybody to get what he wants, and you included!”

  “That ain’t true,” Tavera snapped, and she wheeled around, forgetting her duties and focusing her anger on Lights. “You think you know better than me? I’ve known Hock longer than you, I’ve known Derk longer than you!” Tavera’s brain scrambled as she tried to think of something to shoot at him, to knock him down before he carried this too far. “Though I suspect you do know men better than me! Shot’s said as much to everyone.”

  Lights’ eyes went wide, as if he’d been kicked between the legs, and his face went white and then red. His mouth disappeared on his face as he pressed his lips together. Lights swallowed and then he blew his breath out quietly, as if exhaling the words he wanted to say. “That…that is how I know this, Kiff. I’ve known men like Hock. He’s like a priestess with a knife for a twixt, you pull up her robes and you’re dead! He’ll use your pa too and he’s already using you.”

  “Why’re you talking about the Cup like this!? You know the Cup ain’t bad! Not bad for people like us. We need it. My pa ain’t bad for people like us.”

  “Your pa is fine, The Cup is fine, I’ve nothing against stealing and having fun! Just because we live by the take doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take pride as well as blueies! But Hock…I…Kiff…” He sat on the floor cross-legged, and put his head into his hands, his blond curls spilling over his fingers. For a moment Tavera thought that he was laughing but after a few breaths she took a step back, realizing that he was crying. “I just…I don’t want to be used anymore, Kiff? Do you?”

  Tavera frowned and set the cloth down on the table before she walked over to him as quietly as she could, sitting beside him. His face was covered with his hands but she put her hand on his chin and made him look at her.

  “No,” she said, her dark eyes looking into his. Tavera felt like crying too but couldn’t. She sat next to Lights and let her hands fall into her lap, feeling his eyes still on her, the hot day made even warmer by how close they sat to one another. Tavera stared down at her hands, long brown fingers made soft by rubbing them with oil every night. Was that all she was? A pair of hands? No. Did Hock think that? Let him think that. If at first he accepted her hands, he might accept the rest of her, wouldn’t he? Everything in small steps. Hock was learning she could take and also deal, everyone at the table had seen it. Derk knew it. He knew that and more.

  “Lights, Hock…just…be yourself and do a good job. Hock’ll come around. Shot’s not a bad guy, though he’s a bit…gruff.” Tavera smiled at Lights and he smiled back at her, his long-lashed eyes looking pretty despite the tears. She found herself biting the inside of her lip as he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against her mouth before he kissed her. Tavera closed her eyes and let him, returning the kiss once she thought he wouldn’t push her away, and he didn’t. Instead he put an arm behind her and leaned into her more, kissing her, his tongue slipping into her mouth. It made her pull away at first but when he kissed her again she didn’t stop him this time, and she opened her mouth, trying the same and deciding that she liked it.

  His hand went under her tunic and slid up her belly to her chest, his hand proving that there was something there after all. Tavera’s body tingled as he touched her, and she tried to figure out what to do with her hands. This was usually the part where Derk would walk by and grab her by the arm, yanking her away from the boy she had been kissing. She wasn’t a stranger to boys but having a boy all to herself, and a boy that knew her, knew her really…it made things different. It made Tavera put her hands under his tunic and pull it over his head, and she bit his lip without knowing why she did it.

  His hand went up her skirt, his fingers kneading at her skin and then pulling off her shirt, and she trembled despite the heat, letting him lay her back on the floor. It was still wet in spots from when she had been washing the table clean and for a second she wondered if she had cleaned it enough. But the thought was quickly chased away by Lights bending over her, his melancholy face now
warm and happy as he kissed her again, his belt coming away from his britches in her hands and more of his skin pressing against hers, the hard floor under her.

  In the end Tavera found herself washing blood from her legs and looking over at Lights, his back to her as he buttoned his pants and put on his tunic again. Tavera thought as she washed up, wiping her face with clean water, feeling a touch of an ache in her lower belly, wondering if that was what it was supposed to be like. What part of it had been desire, and what had she really desired? Lights? He was handsome, she supposed. His hands and his other parts on her skin and inside of her?

  It made her head swim a bit to think about it, and her stomach fluttered, tugging on the corners of her mouth so that she was smiling at her reflection in the bucket. It wasn’t the most fun thing she had done but many things weren’t the first time and Derk seemed to enjoy himself anytime they crossed paths with Old Gam. In the end, after Lights had kissed her more awkwardly than she had ever been kissed before and left her, she thought she wouldn’t have paid money for it but she’d be willing to give it another go.

  “What happened to you?” Derk asked when she slid into her seat at the bar. “You fall into the bucket?” He was sitting alone at the Two Headed, the ale almost gone in the pitcher. He poured her a mug. It sloshed over the side and onto the table, fizzing there. Tavera just shook her head and took the mug, looking into it before she took a big gulp. It was sweet and spicy.

  “You did good today, girl,” Derk said, smiling drunkenly. He patted her on the head and drained his mug, pouring himself the rest of the pitcher as he looked to her. “Real good.”

  “So they’re using my plan?” She wondered if she and Derk would get in on the take. If they used her plan, would she get any of the rewards? Tavera knew a few places that spices could be unloaded quietly, a few kitchens and a few individuals who would trade for a finger’s worth of redtree bark or a blacknut or three.

  Derk shook his head. “Not exactly, but something like it. We’re hanging about for a few days to read the guards, get information, but Drink’s got something invested in this and Hock….” Derk shrugged. “But he said your idea was a good one.” He drank the rest of his pitcher and looked to her woozily. Blond lashes blinked slowly and he made a face at her. “Are you feeling well, Kiff? You look all…” All he could do was gesture toward her with his hands and make pained, drunken faces. Tavera felt her face get hot and she lowered her head, hunching her shoulders to make herself smaller so there’d be less of her to read.

  “I’m fine, Derk. You’re just drunk.” Tavera frowned at him, wondering if he could tell. He had slept with women. Maybe he could tell, just like he could tell what kind of thief someone was just by the way he walked. She didn’t feel different. Just sore.

  “I’m not…you’re right, I am drunk.” Derk laughed and shook his head, lacing his fingers together and putting them behind his head. He smiled dimly, which made her roll her eyes. “I was thinking we could head to the west side after this.”

  “Not north?” Tavera asked, raising her eyebrows. Ravinewild was north, and Moorland. Derk’s face became muddled and he looked as if he might be sick, burping quietly.

  “No. In two days. I mean, we’ll head north first and then west. With Shot and Lights. At first light. Heh.” Derk put his hand on the table and pushed himself up, chuckling over his rather bad joke. “They’re staying at the inn across from the north well.” He managed to lean forward without toppling over and kissed her on the top of her head, leaving a few coins to pay for the drinks and a bit extra for her. Then he left, stumbling out of the bar without knocking into anyone. Tavera watched him go.

  She ordered a bowl of stew and ate it, thinking over the events of the day. So, Hock had liked her plan? And Derk knew he did. But what about Drink and Shot? Drink had criticized her, saying her plan wasn’t glamorous enough. Well, Tavera wasn’t there to please Drink. She was there to come up with a plan that they could pull off and keep them out of the clacks. The beer they served in the Spicehill dregs was the same as the beer anywhere else, she reasoned, drinking from her mug. Her thoughts strayed to Lights, wondering what he thought of her plan. They were in the same spot after all. One day they could be sitting across the table from one another, making plans, criticizing one another, relying on the other’s skills. She scraped up the last bit of her stew with her spoon and stood up, deciding that maybe she should find out what Lights thought of her plan.

  The inn by the north well was called the North Well Inn, and she found their room after asking the boy turning the spits where the boy with the blond hair was staying. The spit turner told her and then asked if she would rather know where he was staying and she laughed, swishing her skirts flirtatiously as she made her way toward the room. Maybe, she told herself. They’d be there a few more days.

  A quick knock on the door brought the sound of footsteps and the door cracked open, dark brown eyes looking at her. He opened the door and she slipped in, Lights closing the door behind her.

  “Everything alright?” he asked. Tavera had gone there meaning to ask him about her plan and what he had thought about it. But then she remembered how he felt about Hock and what his skin felt like and tried hard not to grin, her hands behind her back.

  “Where’s Shot?” she asked, looking around the room. Shot and Lights were messier than she and Derk, clothes hanging off of things, their packs undone and lying sloppily on the floor. Lights scratched his head and shrugged, looking confused.

  “He’s out with Drink, why?” he asked.

  “I want to try again,” she said, her words more forceful than she had intended them to be. For a breath Lights looked confused and they stared at each other for a moment, his eyes growing bigger as he realized what she was asking. He fumbled to secure the door, looking around the room as if someone else was there watching before his mouth met hers, Tavera pulling him with her toward the unmade bed.

  It always took a few times to get something right, Tavera told herself. The first time she had stolen a tart she had burned her fingers and it had broken in her hands as she ran away. The first time she had thrown a punch, she had scraped her knuckles so badly they had bled. Tavera had won a small victory, gaining a bit of Hock’s acceptance, even if Drink didn’t approve of her plan, so a bit of celebration was in order, right? A memory from her days with Prisca came to mind and she pushed Lights onto the bed before he could push her, sitting on top of him. This time would be better, she thought.

  Tavera pushed through the crowd, smiling at the bearded man who brushed up against her, his hand squeezing her backside in the press of people. Her hand squeezed too but her fingers wrapped around the coins he had in his pocket, the only thing about him she found interesting and he laughed, thinking something else. It was hot in the bar, people singing and drinking and carrying on. It was the night of the high summer moon and out of doors people were splashing each other with buckets of water in celebration, drinking barley water and beer indoors, playing music on every street corner.

  Derk had let her run about town to partake in the festivities and Tavera had loosed herself on the town of Redbriar as if it were her last day on earth. The heat and the holiday gave everyone free reign and people ate, drank and caroused to their heart’s content, the gluttony of heat calling for a gluttony of the body. She had already been drenched by two buckets of water and personally seen to the dousing of three guards, laughing hysterically as the water dripped through their light armor and pooled beneath them.

  She was returning from the temple where the priestesses had moved a statue of the Goddess outside, the gray-clad women standing around and accepting donations of money, food and other things, the surplus of the season going to the temple in thanks to the White-Breasted One. Even the statue of the Goddess and the priestesses were not exempt from the buckets of water, water dripping down the white clay folds of her garments. Some of the priestesses were drenched while the dry ones looked at the wet ones envious
ly. The day was sweltering and all the open windows and doors didn’t help to dispel the heat of the grips of people pressed against each other, dancing, singing, drinking, groping.

  All the inns were full to capacity for the holiday and she and Derk had been staying in a common room with a dozen other people, the sleeping habits of strangers and the excitement for the holiday having made it difficult to go to sleep the previous night. But this morning’s sleepiness was chased away by good cheer and she slapped a blueie on the counter, the bartender offering her a pitcher of the weak beer everyone was drinking in great volumes today. She shook her head and mouthed what she wanted and the bartender put a hand to his ear, leaning forward to try and hear her. She shouted her order and he nodded, reaching behind the bar for a glass and the green bottle that held the liquor she was seeking. The liquor itself was green and it sparkled as he poured it. Tavera reached over with both hands and wrapped her fingers around it, pushing her way past the people to the staircase in the back that went down to the basement.

  The noise in the basement didn’t match the din upstairs but it was just as hot, and smokier. Card tables were set up and people were betting money, pieces of fabric, thread, dried goods, anything they had that was acceptable to the other players. She looked around, the smoke from the pipes swirling before the light the lanterns gave off. Men and women were playing and kissing and cursing and singing. Derk had been here when he had cut her loose and she thought she would find him here again, but her eyes found nothing but strangers. A face she recognized brought her over to the table and she couldn’t help but gaze at the man’s cards.

  “Where’s my pa?” she asked. The man arranged his cards and threw in two blessed candles from the Holy Bowl, a good bet indeed.

  “Who, the yellow-haired hem-chewer who took me for ten fullies and five lengths of ribbon? Are the ribbons for you, girl?” The balding man looked up at her, his beard crawling across his face like a rash. “I suppose not. Hair like a boy. Tits like one too.”

  “D’you know where he is or don’t you?” she shot, annoyed. He laughed and threw down two cards, picking up another two.

  “He left a bit ago, someone gave him a whisper and he got a stony face and shot off. Now, be gone with you, girl!”

  Tavera glowered at him, glad Derk had beat him at cards. Still. “He’s got three wings,” she said to the rest of the table, turning and rushing out before the man could get a hold of her, the sound of chairs overturning and cursing clamoring behind her as she laughed, bolting up the stairs. She pushed her way through the crowd, glad she was tall. Her last growth spurt had put her of a height with Derk, though he outweighed her by quite a bit. A hand grabbed her chest and she held her drink over her head as she made her way out, glad to get a lungful of cooler, fresh air. The noise of the outdoor revelries carried up to the sky and Tavera took a sip of her drink. It was herbal and slightly bitter, but good.

  Her feet carried her to the temple. It was the only place Derk would find to think if he was in a serious mood. Regardless of the type of worship the day required, temples were always quiet, a place for prayer and contemplation. Tavera barely missed being drenched by a bucket of water as she turned a corner, almost spilling her drink, but she dodged the spray of water intended for someone else. The white steps shone in the distance and she poured the rest of her drink at the feet of the statue of the Goddess, smiling at the stained figure before she took the steps in twos, looking around for Derk.

  He was sitting by himself to the far left, his blond hair unmistakable to the girl. Other people were praying at the altar, a couple ready to take their vows of loyalty there with the ribbon for the priestess to bless. Tavera reached the aisle and slid down the length of the wooden pew on her knees, drawing a disapproving scowl from her father.

  His blue eyes were bloodshot. Derk had been crying though he wasn’t now. His prayer beads lay laced through his fingers and he bowed his head. For a second Tavera thought he was going back to praying but he squeezed in close next to her and he sighed. “Hock is dead.”

  “What?” Tavera’s mouth dropped open slightly and she looked forward, letting the news sink in. “I’m…I’m sorry, Pa.”

  “You didn’t kill him,” Derk said, shrugging. His face looked tired, the lines at the corners of his eyes looking deeper, darker. “Nobody killed him. He had a chest pain and…then he couldn’t breathe. And he died. No knife. No rope. Not even from catching a bad chill.” Derk shook his head and looked sad, the saddest she had ever seen him look and it made Tavera uncomfortable. He sucked snot up through his nose and wiped his face with his sleeve, the beads glinting in the light. His blue eyes looked not only sad but confused, Tavera saw.

  Hock had been his mentor but also his leader, the unofficial leader of the Cup. Questions shone in his eyes as well as grief and he stared down at his hands, looking to Tavera’s. Derk forced a smile, a rather pathetic one. “At least his last take was a good one. The spice bit. That was good, Tavi.” His hands reached for hers and she let him take them, wrapping his fingers through them. “Tavera, you must promise me something.”

  “What, Pa?” The beads from the rosary dug into her skin and his grip was tight. He held her hands tighter still and he lowered his voice so that she had to lean in to hear it.

  “Promise me now, in front of the Goddess, that if something should happen to me…if I should be caught by guards or a lord or anyone…you will not come for me.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me,” he whispered. “I didn’t pluck you from that woman, I didn’t raise you in my eyesight, share my bed, my food, my secrets, my friends…for you to wind up in jail beside me. I would die if that happened, Tavi. My heart would tear in two.”

  “Derk, you won’t get caught, you can’t—”

  “Tavi, it could happen. Everyone makes mistakes. And sometimes things just…they just happen.” He sighed wearily and he kissed her on the cheek, a dry, fatherly kiss that made tears well up in her eyes. “Please, Tavi. Promise.”

  Tavera swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the quiver that threatened her voice and she nodded, focusing on the pain of the beads digging into her skin. “I promise, Derk. I’ll always be your girl. And if it happens…I’ll keep on being your girl.” It was hard to say and the words tried not to come but they did. The relief in Derk’s face made it worth it. He let go of her hands finally, pulling her to lay against his shoulder. He smelled like tobacco smoke and beer and sweetsleep and he played with her hair, careful not to expose her ear. Her tears drained away and she looked up at the Goddess that stood before them indoors, her black hands offering abundance to her worshipers. “What now? With the Cup?” she asked.

  She felt his shoulder shrug under her head, his free hand playing with the beads of his rosary, more for something to do than out of piety. “Everyone will stumble around for a bit. There’ll be some arguments. But eventually everyone will come together again. Someone will rise above the others and take the lead. Same as always.”

  “Maybe you?” Tavera said, turning her head to look up at him. Derk turned his head to look at her and snorted with laughter. It made a priestess look to them and he mouthed an apology, keeping his chuckles in his chest so that Tavera felt them under her head.

  “If you love your pa you’ll never wish that on me,” he said. “No, someone else. Luckily I was on the upswing when he left. It could have gone badly for us. No, I won’t ever be the head but I can be on a shoulder. In good graces. I think we’re there now.” He smiled at her and mussed her hair, which made her make a face. They sat there in the temple for a while, breathing in the incense and listening to the chimes when she felt Derk draw in his breath before he spoke again. “You slept with Lights?”

  Tavera’s body stiffened slightly and Derk had his answer. He breathed out his disappointment in one long sigh and Tavera sat up, keeping her eyes on the altar. “It’s not a big deal,” she said. “You sleep with Old Gam all the time.”

&nbs
p; “I…what?” He opened his mouth to yell it but he kept his voice down, the sanctity of the church relegating him to a hiss. “I occasionally keep company with Old Gam, when we cross paths. And I’ve known Old Gam longer than you’ve been alive.”

  “We don’t know how long I’ve been alive so that might not be true.”

  “You are…you are missing the point,” Derk said, as quietly as he could though there was anger in his voice. “I don’t want you starting to do this, not now. And not within the Cup.”

  “Me and Lights aren’t in the Cup yet,” Tavera pointed out. It made Derk give her an angry look but she cut him off again. “Besides, we’re both in the same spot. It’s nice to have fun with a…a friend. A real one.”

  Derk laughed, a sardonic laugh that made heat rise in her cheeks. “Okay, Tavi. You tell yourself that. He’s your friend. Not another thief looking to get the upper hand on you, looking out for himself or Shot. I’m offering you the easy answer, trying to guide you to a good decision.”

  “How d’you know I wasn’t trying to get something from him?” Tavera narrowed her eyes at him and Derk just stared at her for a breath before he put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

  “This is not the conversation I want to be having right now.” Derk was about to put the rosary around his neck but he hesitated, looking to his daughter. He put it around her neck and kissed her on the cheek again. It was so chaste it made her face hot again and she let the rosary slip over her head, feeling the carved Goddess bead slip over her skin and between her breasts. “Remember what we talked about, please,” he said, waving her away. “It’s a holy day. Go. Have fun. For me.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, grinning. Derk smiled, not as big as she would have liked but it was something.

  “No. Yes. I mean,” he said, rubbing his face again, shooing her away finally. “Go. You shouldn’t be sad today. I shouldn’t be but I am. So be happy for us both. You know what I’d be doing. Just…remember we’re leaving at the end of second watch tomorrow.” He said the last bit too loud and several priestesses quieted him with a stern look, Derk bowing his head in response. Tavera turned and bowed her head as she ducked out, realizing she had left her cup in the temple. She shrugged inwardly. The priestesses would clean the temple tomorrow and return the cups to the bars. If they only had to deal with empty cups, it would be a blessing.

  Music rang through the air and laughter seemed to come from around every corner, splashes of water and light fighting the heat and darkness of the evening. The full moon rose in the sky, seeming to glow down approvingly at her children’s revelries. Tavera tried to smile, but the sober conversation she had just had with Derk kept her steps slow and her mouth from smiling. Hock had died. One day Derk would die or wind up in prison and she would be left alone. Derk had her and the Cup to fall back on, Old Gam, Jezlen when he was around. Her grip on the Cup was tenuous at best and everyone else she knew…Tavera shook her head. Derk was young and while he did do things in excess, he didn’t indulge to the point that Hock had. Derk was still active and never complained, hardly getting sick, though when he did he was an absolute child.

  She smiled, remembering the last time he had been sick, how pathetic he had been, making Tavera make him tea in just the right way or he couldn’t drink it. He’d be around for a while. Tonight they were both alive and Tavera was young. Her eyes fastened on a boy with dark hair and dimples and she smiled to herself, following him to where two roads met, a trio of musicians playing music and townspeople dancing in time. The boy walked over to another young man who had a jug of what could only be wine and she sat down next to him and smiled. The dark-haired boy smiled back, his arm quickly wrapping around her waist. He wasn’t a thief, she said to herself. She was. Tavera would steal a dance and maybe a bit more in the name of the Goddess tonight and since the girl and the deity were the only ones who knew about it, so be it.