a symptom of. A promise of a mind that matched his own, clothed in a body that slid smooth and soft under his hand.
Perfect—today is my perfect day.
* * *
Van Gast staggered after Skrymir, his legs jerky and not-quite-his. Some semblance of thoughts had come back to him, but they were insubstantial, floating just out of his reach when he tried to grasp them.
They didn’t go far before the guards stopped at a stout door ranged with locks. Josie kept up her barrage of insults and elbows until the sergeant lost his patience and smacked her into a wall, holding her face to the stone with her arms pinned under her. It only served to piss her off more, and while the elbows stopped, the insults grew worse. Van Gast watched it all blankly, vaguely knowing that he had to do something, had to get her out of those chains somehow.
He stared dully at the door, and the rat-itch of his trouble bone flared even worse, wrenching a hoarse gasp from him. Not just trouble, this was worse than that the itch told him as it flared, a scorch, a burn, a hot flaming coal next to his heart. Not just for him, for all of them. It seared through the gray fog of the bond and brought him back to himself.
Rillen strolled along the corridor, a shark-grin splitting his face, with Ilsa behind him. She looked at Rillen and her mouth softened then, the way she’d once done with Holden or when she’d followed Van Gast around the ship. The burn of little-magics choked at his throat.
“Unlock the door,” Rillen said, and guards leaped to obey.
The locks rattled open, one by one, until the stout door stood free. Rillen pushed and it swung inward on silent hinges, to a wealth that boggled even Van Gast’s fuddled mind.
The guards shoved him, Josie, Skrymir and Haban inside.
“Oku’s oath,” Skrymir muttered and made an odd sign with a hand in front of his face, as though warding off an evil spirit.
Even Josie stopped her struggling and stood, mouth agape, at the sight that greeted them.
The stone-flagged chamber was ten times the size of the cells. Every corner was crammed with riches—piles of coins, golden statues, pearl-edged, filigreed jewelry to dazzle the eye, chests of rare and hideously expensive spice-wood that scented the whole room with the aroma of wealth. Atop one pile sat something Van Gast recognized through the haze of his memory—a diamond the size of his fist, his biggest ever booty from a single haul. A theft that had started this whole sorry mess.
Rillen flipped open one of the chests, and sapphires winked out at them, emeralds greener than cats’ eyes, rubies the color of blood. Rillen scooped up a handful of emeralds and let them dribble through his fingers.
Haban stood wide-eyed, fingers twitching and mouth moving silently as his little-magics calculated the worth of the room. His gaze slid to Van Gast. “Worth more than this whole city and everything in it.”
“Quite right.” Rillen’s shark-grin grew wider, his eyes flatter. “And you’re going to steal it.”
Josie’s sudden laugh split the tension from the air. “Steal it? What, and get shot by your guards? Why would you want us to steal it?”
“Because you’re going to escape. Oh yes, I’ll let you go. But while you’re escaping, there is one important thing I want you to do. A little job for me. In return, I might let you keep some of this.” Rillen dribbled more emeralds through his fingers and stared at Van Gast. “Very soon now, a man will come down here, having been told by his guards that you’ve escaped the cells and breached his strong room. A fat old fool, he is, thinking himself so clever. But while he can run a good trade, his mind is ever on the money, on the gold. That’s all he cares for. And you’re going to kill him for me.”
Josie narrowed her eyes and flicked an appraising glance around the room. She shook off the guards and Rillen made no protest, so she walked among the splendor. Picking up a trifle here, a precious stone there before she put them back. Finally she stood in front of Rillen, relaxed but ready, her confidence like a shield, and stared up at him. Van Gast had to smile—if the cuffs and shackles hadn’t been plain, you could have mistaken her for the one with the upper hand in this deal. Balls out, every