The Scofflaw Magician (The Artifactor Book 3) (6 page)

“I’m no
criminal!” Gautum whined into the pavement. He was stoutly ignored.

“I see that,”
Xald acknowledged, amused. He shifted both of Gautum’s arms to a one-handed
grip so he could grab a length of twine out of a pocket, and then started tying
the man securely. “But Artifactor, I have to say, if you ever tire of your
profession you’d make a marvelous thief-taker.”

“I’ll pass.”
She took it as a compliment that he said so and grinned regardless.

Xald hauled the
man to his feet and roughly searched his pockets. On the inside of his vest,
two leather purses came out, both of them fairly fat and jingly. “Gautum, I
rather doubt these are yours.”

“They were lent
to me!” Gautum protested, eyes darting about nervously. “For a business
venture.”

“I’ll make sure
to talk to those partners of yours later. But for now, we have some questions
to ask you about the day you were in the courtyard outside of the Small Court.”

This statement
terrified the thief and he scrambled to get away. But his sandals found no
purchase on the paving stones, and Xald was strong enough that he could brace
himself and hold the man’s arms. Neither man moved an inch.

Tiring of this,
Sevana moved to face the man. “I am Artifactor Sevana Warran. I have questions
about the day you were in that courtyard. Not about what you stole, but about
what you saw. You will answer my questions.”

Gautum licked
his lips, head jerking in a shaky denial. “Wasn’t there.”

“You will
answer my questions,” she continued inexorably. “Or I will turn you into a
toad.” As if considering this, she lifted her head to squint at the sun. “In
this heat, you’ll be baked in about an hour. I wouldn’t recommend the
experience.”

The thief also
darted a look at the sun, as if weighing that option. He looked near to
fainting as he realized that a frog in this sort of environment really wouldn’t
last an hour. And he didn’t want to be a toad to begin with. Faintly, he
croaked, “What do you want to know?”

Sevana propped
her feet up on a barrel, letting her hat sink lower over her eyes, feeling like
everything was throbbing. Gautum the thief had been short on information. He
had only been able to tell her who was legitimately there on business and who
he knew was there causing mischief. The mischief makers were noted and Xald
would take care of them later, but it didn’t give her the information she
needed. After handing him off to the city guard, they went back to their list. She
and Xald had crossed back and forth across the city at least a hundred times,
ferreting out the missing people, or trying to. They’d crossed eight off the
list, and right now, she didn’t feel like they’d get to a ninth person. Even
with multiple potions and spells, her feet were aching, and the sun felt like
it had penetrated through her eyes and burned the back of her skull. Forget
custom, wearing a hat was a simple necessity in this country. She’d have been
sun blind and burned without it.

Xald, unfairly,
didn’t seem as affected as she was. He’d settled her into a cool corner of a
pub of some sort, then gone to fetch her a drink. The man was tougher than a
bed of nails.

Coming back, he
plopped a plate on the table but handed the drink directly to her. Sevana
accepted it with both hands and drained half of it in one long pull. She didn’t
care what was in it, it was nirvana to her parched mouth. Setting it down, the
taste finally hit, and she swiped her tongue over her lips. It wasn’t something
she was familiar with.

“What is this?”

“Lemon water
with mango slices. It’s a popular drink here.” Xald slouched into the chair
next to hers, briefly showing his own fatigue. “You like it?”

“I do,” she
answered, surprised as she said it that it was the whole truth. “It’s light and
refreshing. And what are these?”

“Curry naan.”
He lifted a thin slice of bread up and bit into it. “A simple snack, but we
need to eat something.”

She had no idea
what it was, but was hungry enough to not care about that either. Ripping off a
piece as he had done, she popped it into her mouth. To Sevana’s taste buds, it
tasted spicy and exotic but delicious. Smiling for the first time in days, she
ripped off a bigger chunk and stuffed that into her mouth as well. “You better
order another plate.”

“We have bowls
of curry coming,” he answered around a full mouth. “This is just to hold us
off.”

“Smart man.”
She ate a whole slice of bread, if that was the correct term, and drained the
rest of her drink before feeling human enough to ask the obvious question,
“We’ve been at this, what, eight hours?” It had to be near that as night was in
danger of falling.

“Near abouts.”
Xald drained his glass as well and sighed in satisfaction. “Master!” he called
to the bar, “another! Two glasses and a pan of naan!”

The master, who
looked like he was in his seventies, gave a grunt of acknowledgement before
passing on the order to a girl that must be his great-granddaughter, with those
looks.

Turning back to
her, Xald continued, “I recognized one name on the list. The ninth man we’re
looking for, Hamar, is known to eat here in the evenings. I expect him to come
at any point, as the master said he hadn’t seen him yet.”

“Ahh,
that’s
why you insisted on stopping here.”

“Why go chasing
after a man when you can wait for him to come to you?” Xald had a sly smirk on
his face. “Besides, I wasn’t sure if you would last much longer.”

“Your country
is too hot,” she informed him crossly.

“All foreigners
say that.”

“And you’re
insane to live here,” Sevana added, not relenting. “I feel baked.”

“You look it,
too.”

She eyed him
sideways. He only seemed to be half teasing. Granted, her skin did feel a
little stretched and tender, but most of it had been covered as a precaution
against the sun. “How much?”

“Your nose,
chin, hands, the patch in front of your neck. The hat didn’t do well in
shielding you from the sun.”

Growling, she
lifted her kit onto her lap and shifted through it. But no, luck was not with
her. She hadn’t brought any potions or salves that would deal with sunburns.
That was a severe oversight on her part. She’d have to go back to Big tonight
and fetch something.

A man burst
into the pub, head swiveling about madly as if he were searching for someone.
He was well dressed for this section of town, his shirt and pants of fine
linen, the robe over it all of silk. His skin was darker than usual, like a
merchant’s would be, which was somewhat at odds with his silks. He had the look
of a more humble man with that soft chin line and thick nose too. When he
spotted their table, he came directly to them, looking only a little relieved.
A dark crease of worry was in his brows.

“Bodyguard Xald
and Artifactor Warran?”

“That’s us,”
Sevana affirmed, standing. “Who might you be?”

“Blessings upon
the both of you. I am Petran, Sixth Lord of the Seventh Ring.” He bobbed a
quick bow to them as he introduced himself.

The title meant
little to her. Sevana could only infer that he was a minor nobleman of some
sort. “Blessings, Master Petran. You have business with us?”

“I do,” he said
hastily, nearly shifting from foot to foot in anxiety. “May I…?” he gestured to
the only free chair at the table.

“Please do,”
she invited, reclaiming her own seat. Now this was interesting, what had he
come chasing after them for?

He sat, but his
nervousness didn’t abate. Instead, he wrung his hands together, gripping and
releasing his fingers in a rhythmic way. “I am told that you are searching for
the missing princess.”

“Yes,” Xald
answered simply.

“And that it
might have been someone at the palace that has since left that did it?” Petran
pressed.

“That’s our
theory at the moment.” Sevana tapped an impatient finger against the table.
What was this about?

“In truth, my
son is also missing. It’s been over a month now. At first we thought he had
just run off—he’s in a rebellious stage—but we’ve looked all over and can’t
find a trace of him. He’s been spirited away, just like the princess has.”

Sevana’s
attention sharpened. Was this one of the missing people that Firuz had
mentioned to her in passing upon her arrival? “Is that right. You think they’re
connected?”

“There was a
musician that came through, very skilled, and performed for my household. We
enjoyed her performance so much that we gave her a reference to the king and
she performed in the palace as well.”

Xald whipped
out their creased list and flung it flat on the table. “Can you point out this
woman’s name to me?”

Petran used a
finger to trace through the list before he stabbed the page. “This. This is
her.”

Xald pulled a
pencil out and marked it. To Sevana he said, “She’s one of the people we
haven’t tracked down yet.”

“That makes her
a prime suspect, until we can prove otherwise.”

“Oh?” Petran
said, surprised.

Sevana’s eyes
cut to him. “Oh? What oh? You recognize another name?”

“I do,” Petran
responded slowly, his finger hovering next to another name. “This man. He
painted a portrait of my son right before he disappeared. His skills were good,
but I didn’t think them amazing enough to recommend him to the king. I wonder
how he came into the palace?”

Xald cocked his
head sideways so he could read easier. “Ah, him. Not much to look at, that man,
and you’re correct—his skills were nothing to boast about. He was invited to
come in and audition for role of court painter, but he didn’t make it. I think
he only stayed a week.”

That was two
connections. “Mark him too. Sir, your information has been sound. Thank you for
tracking us down.”

“You’ll look
for my son too while you’re searching?” he beseeched.

Sevana felt a
pang of pity. “I will. Now that I know to look for him. Give me his name and
description.”

“Murad, he’s
fifteen, tall but thin, and he was wearing all white with a purple turban the
last I saw him. He’s very dark skinned, but eyes are light.” Petran’s voice
cracked at the end.

Xald put a hand
on the man’s shoulder. “Be strong, man. We’ll find him.”

Petran hunched
in on himself, looking very lost for several moments. “Pray do. Pray do.
Otherwise I will never be able to face my wife, my children, my parents. They
blame me, as we fought the day he disappeared.”

“If he’s truly
been spirited away the way the princess has, it doesn’t have anything to do
with you,” Sevana informed him, tone matter of fact. “And if he’s been taken
the way she has, I’ll find him along with her.”

With a glimmer
of hope in his eyes, he looked back up at her. “You think so?”

“It’s
inevitable.” She leaned in closer, eyes locked with his. “I tell you this. This
magician is smart, and crafty, and he’s made me repeat
I don’t know
all
week, and I HATE saying that. He’s challenging my skills, and I will not rest
until I have unraveled what he has done. Mark my words. I will not stop working
on this problem until I have retrieved everyone he has spirited away.”

“This is the
woman that saved Prince Bellomi and King Aren in Windamere,” Xald inputted
quietly. “You can take her word as truth.”

Petran grabbed
one of her hands with both of his, his palms sweaty, grip desperate. “I will
help you in any way I can.”

Sevana opened
her mouth, about to say he couldn’t help, when a thought struck. “Petran, how
strong is the magical influence in your house? You have shields and protections
up?”

“Some, yes.”

Some. But not
as strong as the palace, she bet. “I will come to your house tomorrow morning.
I want to see if there is any lingering magic there that will give me a hint of
what happened. I couldn’t get any readings at the palace, that place is choking
on magic signatures.”

“Of course,” he
agreed instantly. “I will meet you at the main gate after breakfast toll and
guide you myself.”

Good enough.
“For tonight, go back. Tell your family I’m coming, and don’t disturb anything;
I need a clear picture of what your house was like when your son disappeared.”

He bobbed his
head several times. “I will, I will, thank you, Artifactor.” With a last bow to
the both of them, he scurried out again.

Sevana tapped a
finger against her lips, watching him go with narrowed eyes. “Xald. We might
have just gained an important lead.”

“You believe
him, that his son has magically disappeared?”

“I give it
fifty-fifty odds. But if nothing else, I want to be in a household that has had
two of our missing people in it. I have a notion a clue of some sort has been
left behind.”

Xald blew out a
weary breath. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

Their drinks
arrived with two steaming bowls. Sevana didn’t recognize it, but this must be
the ordered curry. She took a cautious bite and her eyes nearly crossed, the
spices were that strong. People ate this regularly?!

The bodyguard
must have read her expression as he grinned and suggested, “The bread and the
drink both cut out the fire.”

She promptly
drank a healthy swallow, her mouth feeling almost numb around the edges. “Is
everyone in Sa Kao spice addicts?”

“This isn’t
spicy,” he objected, still grinning.

Looking down at
the bowl, she made plans to bring food back when she went to Big tonight. If
this dish wasn’t spicy, she was in trouble.

Xald abruptly
went still, his focus on a crowd of men that came through the front door. They
were an amiable group, discussing something between themselves as they headed
for a table, and Xald shifted in his chair to track them.

Sevana noted
this behavior and paused while ripping a piece of naan free. “Has our man
arrived?”

“Yes, I think
that’s him. Black turban, the one sitting with his back to us.”

From her pouch,
Sevana drew her box lens and lifted it to her eye, focusing it by using the
dials on the back. It glowed a soft blue as she activated it, and the world
turned interesting shades, as if everything around her was overlain with
spirals and lines of energy.

“I’ve seen you
pull that out several times now,” Xald said in a questioning tone. “But you
still haven’t told me what it’s for.”

“To read
magical signatures.”

He ruminated on
that for a moment before offering, “Didn’t you tell me before that magicians
can tell with the naked eye if magic is about?”

“Normally,
yes,” she answered absently. “But if it’s camouflaged or under a glamour,
that’s not always the case. Our evil magician, whoever he is, was able to get
in and out of the palace without the court wizards being able to tell what he
was. That means that he has a very powerful glamour of some sort on him. This
lens will tell me if something is off or possibly let me see through a part of
the glamour.” It was the easier option for her even if it was obvious what she
was doing. The only other method was to do some long incantations and spell
work, and she didn’t have the energy for that.