The Amaranth Enchantment (10 page)

"But my treasure was worth the bother," I said. "You stole it."

106

"No, I didn't."

I wanted to stamp my feet. "Yes, you did!"

"Didn't."

"Did."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Didn't."

My hands tingled with desire to shake him until his teeth rattled. It's what came of growing up with Aunt. Always quick to try violence before reason. But he'd be too slippery to grab, that was sure.

Instead, I made as if to leave.

"Why you persist in this idiotic charade, I don't know," I told him, with all the condescension I could muster. "I know the truth, you know full well I do.

But never mind. If you didn't steal it, then you won't be able to return it to collect the reward money."

I walked away, jingling my pouch. It didn't merely tinkle, like a bag with a few coppers. Its hefty chunk, chunk proclaimed its authority. Would Peter take the bait?

I hadn't gone five steps before I heard Peter's footfall behind me.

"Hold a bit," he said, cajoling. "Supposing--just supposing--I had an idea of where your gem might be found. Then what?"

He rested a would-be friendly hand on my shoulder.

I turned and jabbed my finger into his breastbone. "Who said anything about a gem?"

His Adam's apple bobbed.

107

"You knew it was a gem because you took it, you light-fingered bandit! You take everything good that isn't bolted down."

He rubbed the spot where I'd poked him. "And some things that are, to be truthful."

"Oh, why start being truthful now?"

"Because you've got a sackful of money," he said. "I'm a practical man. Not above telling the truth when it's the most profitable course."

"Tell it, then," I pleaded, "and we can be rid of each other forever."

"What, when we're getting on so well?" he said. He took me by the arm and started leading me back toward the heart of the festival. "The truth'll cost you supper, and I know just the place."

* * *

Twilight continued to fold into night, and the sky grew blacker and deeper. We had only a patchwork of lamplight thrown from curtained windows to light our way back. But soon fires greeted us, built right in the center of the stone streets, and in rusty kettles beside buildings. Men carried torches, and every
Page 36

ABC Amber Sony Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcsonylrf.html

stage and stall was lit with lamps and hanging lanterns that swayed.

Night threw the festival into strange relief. Children had been scurried off to bed, and horses and carriages put to rest in stables. Now the streets were fair game for dancing, and

108

the revelry took a turn as shadows crawled out from hiding to join the carousing. Laughter louder, music wilder, faces bolder. I was actually glad of Peter's arm in mine.

"See she caught you, lad," said a large man, appearing from the darkness like a ghost. His booming laugh made me jump.

"Aye." Peter grinned. "Sometimes it's better to be caught."

"Not by the constables, eh?" The man roared at his joke, smelling strongly of ale. I shied away from him and pressed forward.

"Here we are;' Peter said, gesturing toward a glowing mountain of coals.

Beside it a sweating one-legged man stood cranking the wheel of a curious apparatus that rotated several spits at once. Each spit held half a dozen plump, browning fowl, their juices dripping and sizzling on the embers, smelling deliciously of gravy and woodsmoke.

"Dinner for two, Poke," Peter said, with an affected wave of his hand. "Use the fancy china, will you?"

"Anything for your majesties," the man called Poke replied, with a mock bow.

"But first, let's see your metal."

Peter elbowed me, and I opened my pouch, turning as far away from him as I could. I gave Poke a gold piece, and his eyes grew wide.

"The lady pays, does she?" He bent low and whispered in my ear. "I've known that Peter since he was a tot, and I warn you, he'll have that gold off of you in two shakes.

109

How's a nice young lady like you come to take company with the biggest rascal in Saint Sebastien?"

"Grim necessity," I said, and he roared with laughter.

It took most of his pocketful to give me change. Then he unhitched a spit from his strange machine and deftly slid off a bird onto a wooden board already shiny with grease. He cut the bird in half in one swift slice, skewered two steaming potatoes from a pan in the coals, and served us on trenchers of questionable cleanliness.

"Compliments to the chef," I said, breathing in the warm vapor. Poke grinned.

I could grow accustomed to regular hot meals, I decided. If all went well with Peter, I'd have them forever, with clean plate and cutlery, too. Mama's plate and cutlery. My plate and cutlery.

Peter steered me toward a watering trough, and we sat on its broad edge while Dog drank noisily. My day of searching and my chase after Peter had left me ravenous, and for a moment neither of us spoke, but took full advantage of Poke's skill. The hot potato burned my tongue then melted in my mouth, and the chicken... suffice it to say I did not eat it in a manner befitting the elegant lady I was dressed to be. Mama would not approve. Mama would never know.

People passed by in twos and threes, laughing loudly, their breath making frosty clouds before their faces. Groups of women began to appear, dressed in gaudy clothes. Their

110

lips and cheeks, I was astonished to see, were painted with rouge, their eyes rimmed with black, and they wore large earrings that hung down to their nearly-bare shoulders. With a shock I realized what they must be, something I'd only encountered before in books.

"Evening, Maud," Peter called to one, a young blonde.

"Go on, you ruffian," she called back, laughing.

He'd called her by her first name! I watched her pass with a pair of comrades.

Their shoulders, so white against the dark night, looked terribly cold.

I forced my attention back upon my food. At length, my energy restored, I
Page 37

ABC Amber Sony Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcsonylrf.html

remembered my purpose. Peter was still working on a drumstick when I asked,

"Do you still have the jewel?"

I could see him calculating. He chewed and chewed, and licked his lips. "Not on me."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Approximately."

I snatched at his half-finished plate. "I'm weary of your games and lies.

'Supper for the truth,' you said, and I've paid my price. Now do you know where it is, or not?"

He shrugged. "Approximately, I said, and I meant it."

Dog sniffed at Peter's plate. It was tempting to give it to him. Instead, I willed myself to think coherently.

"Do you know who has it, then?"

"Most likely." He made a grab for his dish, but I held it at arm's length behind me.

111

"How can you most likely know who has it?"

"I know who had it when last I saw it."

"And when was that?"

"Last night. Late."

I'd rather interrogate someone who spoke a different language than try to wring the truth out of Peter. I took a deep breath, and spoke slowly and distinctly.

"And who had it last night, late, Peter?"

"My customer."

"Your customer. You sold it?"

"'Course."

He did a tidy turnaround, that one. If Uncle had done half as well, perhaps Aunt wouldn't have harangued him so much. Already sold it! Was there any hope now?

"How much did you sell it for?" I knew I'd get no honest answer.

He pursed his lips and scratched his head. "Can't say as I recollect exactly."

"Your razor-sharp brain's gone suddenly soft, has it? And I suppose you've already forgotten who your customer was?"

He reached a long arm over to snatch back his chicken. "I remember that well enough."

One last hope. "Then will you for the love of heaven tell me?"

"Not for that, but possibly for the contents of your bag." His feral smile made me clutch the purse tighter.

112

"You'll have this bag and all its contents once you've stolen my gem back from whoever you sold it to," I said.

He put up a flat palm. "That would be unsporting," he said. "When Peter sells, Peter doesn't take back. My clients would never trust me."

"Nobody trusts you!"

He had the nerve to look affronted. "Besides," he said, "I'd hang if they caught me stealing from this client."

The irony was too much for me. "That didn't stop you from stealing from me!"

He inclined his head in a small bow. "Pardon my saying so, but you're small fry compared to him."

My heart plummeted into my belly. If he wouldn't steal it back, however would I get it? Someone grand wouldn't be tempted by money. "Who'd you sell my jewel to? King Hubert?"

He smirked. He stalled. He took a long lick of his greasy fingers, a sight to turn anyone's stomach. All was truly lost now, and he was enjoying my suffering.

"Not quite," he said, "though give me time and I'll make a client of him, too.

No," he said, gnawing on a bone, his eyes gleaming wickedly. "This time my client was only a shade less illustrious. I sold your spangle to Prince Gregor. He took a strange fancy to it. Said it'd be the perfect gift for his
Page 38

ABC Amber Sony Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcsonylrf.html

ladylove."

I felt as though a chunk of potato had lodged in my throat. I hadn't taken a bite.

113

"The princess?" I asked, trying to be casual.

Peter nodded. I saw a flash of annoyance on his face. "Why, what have you got against her?" I asked.

He frowned, "Nothing."

Something was going on under Peter's skin. I couldn't make it out, but it was a chink in his armor, which was all I needed. So I gambled.

I made an extravagant sigh. "It'd be a shame if Prince Gregor couldn't give Princess Beatrix a wedding gift, wouldn't it?"

He watched me under heavy-lidded eyes, saying nothing.

"And you won't steal it back for me, though by all rights you should, because you'd hang for it. I suppose I can't blame you for objecting to that."

He tilted his head, eyeing me from one side, much as Dog did.

A terrifying thought popped into my head. Tonight was a rash, reckless night, so I seized hold of it. "Of course, I could try to steal it back myself...."

He snorted derisively. "You? Ha."

"... if only there was someone who could teach me how it's done. A trainer. A tutor in thievery. For hire." I jingled my bag.

Lucinda, have you gone mad?

Odd strains of gypsy music floated out to us across the dark festival. I watched Peter's face through the shadows.

114

Once past the horror of his table manners, his face was a fascinating study in indecision.

"Supposing there was such a trainer," he said warily, "how much would he be paid?"

I met his gaze. "Everything I've got here, as soon as I've got the gem in my hands."

He shook his head. "No good. I can't be responsible for the outcome. Too risky."

"A third up front, then," I said, "and the rest upon the success of the mission."

"Half."

Why, why was I bargaining with a thief? Would he really be able to help me?

Did I have a chance of success? Now wasn't the time for caution. I couldn't afford it. "Half."

Peter shifted in his seat. "And if anything goes wrong, or you get caught, you've got nothing to do with me, got that? I don't know you and I never taught you anything."

I tore a bite of chicken flesh from its bones. "Never anything."

Peter ate the last of his potato then put forth his hand. "Then I offer you my services."

I slapped my hand in his, chicken bone and all. "Dear."

115

Chapter 14

I counted out the coins on the stone edge of the watering trough. Peter insisted on watching; I insisted he stand far enough away that he couldn't touch.

"That's no way to show trust in your new advisor," he sniffed.

"Balderdash."

Once he'd pocketed the coins, and I'd tied my much-lighter wallet securely back upon my belt, suddenly Peter was all business.

"Right then," he said. "First, you begin by knowing your target. I can help there. The prince believes the gem is magic. Romantic. Like a love charm." He laughed. "That idiot will believe anything I tell him."

I bristled. "He is not an idiot!"

Peter made a low whistle and shook his head. "So you're another one, are you?"

Page 39

ABC Amber Sony Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcsonylrf.html

116

"Another one what?" I cursed myself for talking without thinking.

"Another of the empty-headed Saint Sebastien females who run around besotted by Prince Gregor's dimples and curls."

Thank heaven the darkness concealed my blushing.

I'd never thought of that. It made me feel sick. Of course I wasn't the first to look at him.

"Nothing of the kind," I snapped.

Peter grinned. "And how would you know if he's an idiot or not?"

Think fast! "I've heard tell of him."

Peter shrugged. "Anyway, he'll have it on his person, that's certain. He met the princess for the first time today. He's been all worked up about it."

That, I knew. "So he'll have his love charm with him, sure as anything. And if I know him, it will be in his inside breast pocket." Peter gestured into his jacket with his hand.

That caught my attention. "How d'you know where he'd keep it? How would you know him so well?"

That same tight-lipped look I'd seen a moment before crossed his face and vanished as quickly, to be replaced by his usual sarcasm. "You mean, why would a gent like me keep such low company? I told you, he's my client."

"Yes, but you don't just have the prince as your client any old day of the week," I said.