to see what's in the warehouses that we might want or need. There's not much money to spend, but it'll get us by until business builds up."
A shift of shadows outside the doorway caught Magiere's attention from the corner of her eye, and instinctively she knew it wasn't Caleb or Beth-rae. Leesil turned as well, staring at the door he'd left open, and a stiletto appeared in his hand.
Magiere didn't stop to ponder where he'd hidden that in his dressing gown. She slipped the sheath of her falchion, letting it drop to the floor.
There was no light near the door, and even the candles didn't show who was there. A deep voice came into the room, gentle, even soothing.
"Don't be alarmed."
Darkness seemed to follow the figure as he stepped forward into the doorway, then the shadows drained away, or perhaps he'd just shifted forward into the reach of the candles' light.
"How did you get up here?" she demanded, wondering why Chap hadn't alerted them to an intruder.
The man was about forty years old, of medium height and build. His peppered-brown hair lay carefully combed back. Perfect white patches at both temples framed even features that were striking rather than handsome. There was a slight widening bump at the bridge of his nose. His clothes were hidden beneath a floor-length, mahogany cloak. Only the rounded points of well-made boots were visible. He did not appear to be armed, but there was no way to tell what might be hidden beneath that cloak. His hands were clasped in front of his chest, and she noticed the top half of the little finger on his left hand was missing.
"Answer up!" Leesil snapped. He was now on his feet and had somehow produced a second blade in his other hand.
The man stared for a moment at Magiere's falchion, as if studying it, then he looked her over with as much concentration. His eyes stopped to rest on her amulets. She wanted him to stop looking at her and quickly tucked the amulets inside the dress, out of sight. While shoving them beneath her bodice, she noticed the topaz stone seemed brighter than normal, but she turned her attention back to the stranger. He gave no notice at all to Leesil.
"My name is Welstiel Massing. But you're the one, aren't you? The one who kills vampires?"
Magiere couldn't think of a response. The man spoke so blatantly, without any pretense, as if it was a common thing to ask a stranger.
"We don't know what you're babbling about," Leesil answered. "But we aren't open to customers yet. I suggest you come back tomorrow."
Again this Welstiel Massing acted as if no one had spoken, his attention centered on Magiere.
"You are not what I expected, but you're the one."
"I don't do that anymore," Magiere answered.
Something about this stranger frightened her—as much as anything ever frightened her. She wanted nothing to do with any aspect of her own past, and his presence disturbed the recently gained balance of her new life.
"I doubt you can avoid it here," Welstiel said. "I just came to warn you."
"Get out," she said coldly, losing her patience, "or I'll throw you out."
Welstiel backed up, not in fear, but as if he were a creature with impeccable manners. "Forgive me. I simply thought to warn you."
"Well, now you have," Leesil spoke up, "and I'll show you the front door." He moved forward.
For a moment it appeared this night visitor was not going to move. Then his eyes rolled casually toward Leesil. He turned and headed down the hallway as if leaving was his own idea.
Both Leesil and Magiere were caught in their own surprise for a moment, and then Leesil bolted out the door to "escort" Welstiel Massing down the stairs. Magiere followed in time to see her partner standing at the top of the stairs, wide-eyed. She heard the tavern's door downstairs close. Leesil looked back at Magiere with an expression on his face as if he'd come in on the tail end of a bizarre conversation that he couldn't quite figure out.
"He's rather quick for an older man," Leesil said quietly, then added, "I'll be back." And he scrambled down the stairs out of sight.
Magiere returned to her room and sank down onto her bed. Whatever this visitor had come for, she would not be dragged back into the old game—not for money, not for anything.
Leesil appeared again in the doorway. "Chap, Caleb, and Beth-rae are all asleep in the kitchen. I told you