The Thief Queen's Daughter (8 page)

They passed a spice merchant’s shop with burlap sacks spilling out onto the porch, filled with fat vanilla beans and pungent peppercorns and all sorts of good-smelling herbs. Beyond that was an apothecary where tonics were being sold, a shop with nothing but fudge for sale, and a tailor who was talking to a woman in a nearby shop full of bolts of beautiful silk.

Clem stopped at a table in front of the fabric shop. “Look at this gorgeous satin,” she said, running her hand over a sheet of shiny black cloth. “It reminds me of the night sky—you can almost see the stars shining in it.”

“Look harder,” said the woman in the shop. “You
can
see them.”

The children squinted. The silky folds of the fabric gleamed, then twinkled with a million tiny sparkling lights. When they looked again, it had returned to black.

“Come on,” Ven said insistently to Clemency, who blinked, then turned quickly away from the table.

“What do you suppose that means?” Nick asked as they came to a large sign hanging over a shop at the corner of first street. It read

ARMS OF COATES

“That’s odd,” Ven agreed. “I’ve heard of coats of arms—it’s like a family crest or symbol. The Polyphemes have one. But Arms of Coates?”

“Why don’t we go in and see?” Char suggested. “I wouldn’t mind being inside about now. All these people millin’ around are making me skittish.”

“Good idea,” said Clemency. She climbed the wooden steps up to the store and held the door open for the others.

As they stepped inside they froze in fear.

B
LOCKING THE DOORWAY WAS A GIGANTIC GUARD DOG, LARGE
enough for Char to have ridden it like a horse. His shaggy coat was brown with black streaks starting at his gigantic jaw that ran from his ears to his tail. The teeth that protruded from that jaw were the size of Ven’s thumbs.

A man with dark circles under dark eyes and hair that matched stood behind the counter, polishing a silver mug. He seemed amused.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the man asked. He put down the polishing cloth and came out from behind the counter.

With him came a second dog, smaller than the first. His coat looked like butter and cream, and he had a serious face with soft brown eyes and a black nose. His ears were the color of toasted marshmallows, and he trotted toward the children and stopped in front of Saeli. He sniffed her, then Ven, then Char, Clem, and finally Nick, whose eyes were tightly closed.

Satisfied, the dog turned around and went back behind the counter.

The dark-eyed man stopped in front of them and folded his arms. “How can I help you, lads and lasses?” he asked politely.

“We’re just looking,” said Ven.

“Ah,” said the man. “That would be a good idea. In fact, I advise you to keep your hands at your sides at all times, please.”

The children glanced around.

The store was filled with weapons and armor of every imaginable kind. Wicked-looking blades from the tiniest knife to a sword taller than Clem hung high on the walls. Beside them many other weapons were displayed—clubs and maces and crossbows, spears and daggers and axes, and some kinds that Ven had never seen.

Along the walls of the shop were suits upon suits of every kind of armor, some made of shiny metals, others of leather or dull steel rings, shirts and sleeves and gauntlets.

The store owner walked slowly around them, then went over to the window and looked outside onto the market street. He closed the door, turned back, smiled brightly, and bowed to the group.

“Allow me to introduce myself—Mynah Coates, at your service,” he said smoothly. “And who might you fine young’uns be?”

“Just shoppers,” Clemency said, interrupting Ven.

Mr. Coates nodded. “And how did you get into the Market? They don’t usually let children inside.”

“Our money was as good as anyone’s, I guess,” said Char.

“Hmmm.” Coates looked out the window again.

“Are you looking for someone?” Ven asked, suddenly nervous.

The man just continued to watch out the window. Finally he turned around and smiled.

“Is there anything in particular you were looking for here?” he asked. “I think most of the items are out of your price range, but I could be wrong. If you can afford to buy Market tokens, perhaps you are wealthier than you look.” He stepped away from the window and headed back to the counter.

“Mostly we were just curious to see what your sign meant,” said Ven. “Sorry to disturb you—and your dogs. I guess we can be on our way now.”

“Oh, Munx wasn’t disturbed,” said Coates, picking up his polishing cloth and returning to his work. “He was just doing his job—he’s my doorbell.”

“What’s the other one’s name?” Clemency asked.

“Finlay,” Coates replied. “He was just doing his job as well.”

“What’s Finlay’s job?” asked Char.

The man’s dark face lost its smile as he polished. “He makes certain no one brings anything in here that shouldn’t be in here.” He gestured, without looking, to the walls and the deeper recesses of the store. “While you’re here, why don’t you look around? There are many beautiful pieces. Just don’t touch anything, please—for your own sake as well as mine.”

Nick, Char, and Ven looked at each other, and Nick shrugged.

“Can’t hurt,” he said. The others nodded in agreement.

As they wandered around the shop, Mr. Coates continued to work on his mug. They passed cabinets full of rings with tiny spikes extended, decks of cards and hair combs, pots and glasses and articles of clothing, all of which seemed to have been designed as weapons. All the while they kept their hands at their sides, fearful to touch anything.

Finally Nick stopped in front of a case where a strange metal glove was displayed. Ven stopped, too; there was something about it that made his curiosity burn so wildly that his ears turned red.

“What’s this, Mr. Coates?” he asked.

The dark-eyed man put down his cloth again and came over to the case. He took out a ring of many keys, unlocked the glass door, and put the glove on the top of the case.

“Try it on,” he said.

“Are—are you sure?” Ven asked.

Mr. Coates chuckled. “
I’m
sure—the question is, are
you
sure?”

Ven thought for a long moment. “No,” he said finally. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s wise,” said Coates. “You can never be sure in this place. Now, do you want to try it on, even though you’re not sure?”

Ven inhaled deeply. “Yes.”

“Of
course
he does,” Clemency said to Saeli, who sighed.

Mr. Coates handed him the giant glove.

Slowly Ven slid it on.

“Do you want to try it on, too?” Coates asked Nick, who nodded excitedly. After Nick tried it, Char and Clemency each took a turn, while Saeli shook her head vigorously when offered the gauntlet.

Finally, when Clemency was done, Coates put the gauntlet on his own hand. He smiled at the children.

Then he flicked his wrist.

With a
snap,
a shiny metal blade leapt out of the gauntlet.

The children jumped away from the display case.

Coates chuckled. He flicked his wrist again, and the blade disappeared. Then he turned his hand over, made a fist, and appeared to punch the air.

A wide metal spike appeared, with two sharp points, out of the knuckles of the gauntlet.

“In addition to its obvious advantages, this is also useful, when used with its mate, to climb walls and stony cliffs,” he said. Another turn of his hand, and the spike was gone.

Finally, he held out his palm as if to shake hands, and extended the thumb. Then he passed his index finger over the tip of the thumb. A tiny flame appeared.

“Flint and steel, good for lighting campfires,” he said.

“Whoa,” Char whispered, his eyes wide.

Mr. Coates took off the gauntlet and set it down on top of the display.

“That’s only a few of the functions,” he said as he put his keys back in his pocket. “You’re welcome to examine it—you can’t trigger the knives or the flame unless you are wearing it.” He went back behind the counter and returned to his work.

The boys turned the glove over and began to check out each of the joints, while Saeli and Clemency looked at cases filled with oil lamps, saddles, books, dolls, and hair ribbons, each apparently deadly. Ven could find the slits where the knives had emerged, but Mr. Coates was correct—there were no visible trigger mechanisms that he could see.

He decided to look closer. He unbuttoned his pocket and took out his great-grandfather’s jack-rule.

His father’s voice rang in his memory, words Pepin Polypheme had said to him on his fiftieth birthday, and later in a letter telling him to follow his dreams.

Magnus was the youngest in his family, you know. As was my da, as am I. So it’s only right that his jack-rule go to you now, Ven. The youngest may be at the end of the line for everything from shoes to supper, but often we are at the head of it for curiosity and common sense. Use it well
—
it was calibrated precisely to the Great Dial in the Nain kingdom of Castenen, and so it will always measure truer than any other instrument could. It also contains a small knife, a glass that both magnifies and sees afar, and a few other surprises
—
you will just have to discover those for yourself. If you see things as they appear through its lens, you are taking measure of the world correctly.

Ven extended the magnifying glass and peered through it at the gauntlet.

He was examining the slit in the gauntlet’s wrist when he noticed Mr. Coates was standing over him again, looking at him intently.

“Is that a Nain jack-rule?” the merchant asked softly.

“Ye—yes,” Ven answered.

“May I see it?”

“Please be careful,” Ven said awkwardly as he handed the tool to the merchant.

“Of course,” said the dark-eyed man. He opened the measuring tool slowly and examined it, turning the hinges with ease and familiarity. He extended the telescope and the tiny knife, then folded it up again and handed it back to Ven.

“I don’t suppose you want to sell it, by any chance?” Coates asked, but with a chuckle in his voice that showed he already knew the answer.

“I couldn’t,” Ven said. “Family heirloom.”

“Of course,” said Coates. “It’s a thing of beauty. I’ve never seen a real one before, just drawings in books and a few fakes.”

Ven blinked in surprise. He had no idea humans had ever heard of Nain tools. He watched Mr. Coates look out the window again. “Well, we had best be going,” he said. “Thank you for showing us your weapons—they are amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” said Coates.

“Just out of curiosity—how much is the gauntlet?” Ven asked, knowing that the answer would be far more than he would ever have.

“Are you looking to trade?” Coates asked, amused.

“No,” Ven said quickly.

“Didn’t think so,” said Coates. He glanced out the window.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Char demanded. “What’s goin’ on outside that you’re looking at?”

Even as the words were leaving his lips, it was clear that Char regretted them. The shop suddenly went silent. Ven, Nick, Clemency, and Saeli all held their breath in shock.

Coates turned around and regarded Char thoughtfully. He walked slowly over to the cook’s mate, who started to tremble, and patted him on the shoulder. Then his hand went a little farther down Char’s back.

When he took it away, there was a small black circle of felt on his smallest finger, no bigger than his fingernail.

“What’s that?” Ven asked.

Coates exhaled. “A mark. You have one, too, no doubt. Turn around.”

Ven tried to look over his shoulder as he spun, but saw nothing. Coates reached into the folds of his shirt collar and removed another felt circle, this one white. Nick and Clemency examined each other’s backs, removing similar circles.

“They must have thought you had something especially valuable,” said Coates to Saeli. He held up two he had taken off her.

“What does this mean?” Clemency asked, her voice shaking.

Coates sighed. “That the people who go about the market, marking the, er, guests, guessed you had something worth stealing,” he said. “But white marks are minor; if you had a red one, now, then you would be a prime target.”