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had fashioned two short torches, which he tied to his back as well. She knew he typically
carried various stilettos and other bladed weapons somewhere inside his clothes.
She, on the other hand, traveled light, carrying nothing besides her falchion. Her role in
this macabre play was to fight Rashed, while the others dealt with the smaller creature
called Ratboy, should both their targets be discovered together.
 How are we going to get in? she asked finally, surveying the warehouse wall up and
down.  We can t exactly walk in the front doors and ask the workers,  By the way, where do
your masters sleep? And I don t fancy trying to enter after dark.
 There s probably a hidden door in the back wall, Leesil answered.
She blinked.  How do you know?
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He hesitated.  Because I ve seen this type of construction before. I ll know what to look
for.
He d broken into warehouses before? Magiere s curiosity was piqued, but this was not the
time or place.  All right, she said.  Stay behind the crates.
Stacks of wooden crates surrounded this side of the building, which made it possible to
move around to the back without being seen. All the workers were inside and few people
wandered about on the pier. Once in position, Leesil passed Chap off to Magiere, who
grabbed the dog by the scruff of his neck.
They watched as Leesil s hands moved lightly across the base of the warehouse. Brenden
seemed confused and leaned forward.
 What are you looking for? There s no door here.
Leesil didn t answer and kept moving his fingers across the wood. Magiere began
fidgeting after a while, making it harder to keep the dog from doing the same. Her eyes
never left Leesil, though they narrowed suspiciously as she tried to figure out what her
partner was doing. Finally, Leesil stopped and remained motionless with his hands firmly
against one spot. Then his head tilted slightly to one side and his eyes half closed.
Magiere craned her neck, trying to see what Leesil had found. It was just a blank space of
wall. Leesil pulled his hands away, but remained crouched as he reached into his sack and
pulled out the long box, glancing up at her in concern.
 Do you trust me? he asked.
The frank question caught her off guard and she hesitated.  Of course, she answered.
Long, yellow-white hair fell forward across his face as he leaned down.
 Then don t ask me to explain anything about this.
When he opened the box, she regretted agreeing to his request.
A wire loop with small steel handles at each end and two stilettos with blades narrow as
knitting needles were the first items she saw. The sight of the wire made her swallow hard.
She d never actually seen such a thing firsthand, but she had once witnessed a criminal
executed by strangulation and could guess how the item was used.
The narrow stilettos were another matter. Too slim for any blade-to-blade fighting she
could imagine, she couldn t be sure what they would be used for. But looking back to the
wire again, she didn t particularly want to know. What she did want to know was how and
why Leesil had come by them, and she didn t care for the guesses that flashed through her
mind.
The metal of the wire and blades was too pale and bright for common steel. Some other
metal had been used, and these were expensive items of a questionable nature no one
would buy openly from some weaponsmith. There were only hints of blemishes on the
polished blades. Though carefully tended at one time, they had not been taken out for a
long while. As much as the items in her companion s possession made Magiere nervous
and wary, and even angry, she felt an unexpected wave of anxious concern for Leesil.
Pushed aside and hidden, these distasteful possessions had enough meaning for him that
he d kept them shut away for an unknown number of years.
Leesil hesitated, and Magiere saw his back rise and fall in a deep breath before his narrow
fingers pressed some hidden spot on the box s inside. He then grabbed the base of the lid
near the hinge, and an inner panel folded open to expose a compartment inside the lid
itself. Therein, tucked in cloth straps, was an array of shaped wires, long, needle-small
hooks, and other similar delicate items crooked, bent, and shaped like a set of tiny tools,
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r r
the purpose for which she couldn t guess. And again the metal was of a polished silver hue
too pale for steel.
 What are those? Brenden asked.
Leesil ignored him, picking out a thin wire strut that ended in a right-angle turn. The
bent end stuck out less than half a fingernail s length and was flattened to be thinner than
the longer shaft or handle. He felt carefully around the base of the wooden wall, and then
pressed his first finger against a spot that looked exactly like every other place on the vast
wall. He attempted to insert the wire directly above his fingernail.
To Magiere s shock, the wire strut s head passed right through the wood, and a panel as
wide and tall as her arm slid open.
 Let me go first, Leesil said.  There may be traps.
His body was so tense and face so serious that she hardly recognized him. He knew what
he was doing, but somehow to take these actions was a strain on him, as if he forced
himself.
Her thoughts stopped and retreated one step. He knew exactly what he was doing. How?
 Leesil...
When he turned, his slanted, amber eyes pleaded with her.
 Trust me, he said.
He snapped the box shut, slid it back into his sack, and crawled through the secret door.
She had little choice but to follow.
Once Brenden crawled down the shaft after Magiere and emerged into a plush sitting
room, the first thing he noticed was a candle in the shape of a deep, red rose. Wax roses
were hardly what he expected. Leesil was already searching the walls and floor by sight
and fingertips. Two oil lamps attached to the wall provided small flames of light. Last
summer, if someone told Brenden that he d soon be in the company of a vampire hunter
and a professional thief, tracking down the undead murderers of his sister, he would have
thought the speaker quite mad. In fact, it really did sound mad, and that thought made the
hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
And when he first met Magiere, he had despised her, thinking her a selfish and cold
woman, whose only interest was in turning a profit from her tavern. His opinion of
Magiere had altered a great deal since then. For all her strength and carefully guarded
face, he could see pain and uncertainty buried inside. She did not hide in her tavern
because of selfishness but something else, and he did not know her well enough to ask
what that was. Now, she had overcome this mysterious obstacle and was standing beside
him with a sword, ready to fight and kill or die. He admired her courage, and the clean
lines of her features and her long black braid were not lost on him either. Strength, beauty,
and fighting ability in the same person seemed a rare combination to him.
Then his thoughts turned back to Eliza, his fragile sister, and the smoldering anger in his
chest made him focus on their current goal. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]