Scent of Magic. Maria Snyder V.
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My passage matched the natural sounds of the woods. Unlike my pursuers, who crashed through as if running from a pack of ufas. I found a hiding spot. They cursed as they stumbled into trees, and the fabric of their robes caught on thorns. I muffled my breathing as one came quite close to me.
He yelled at his companion to stop making so much noise. They paused and listened, then decided to split up to cover more ground. Big mistake. I waited until they were far enough apart, then I stepped behind the acolyte who had yelled.
Touching the back of his neck, I zapped him. He jerked in surprise before collapsing.
His companion’s noisy passage was easy to track. I caught up to him and pulled my stiletto. Instead of zapping this one, I pressed the tip of the blade against his throat. “Looking for me?”
He froze. “Uh.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned as I yanked his sword from his belt and tossed it aside. “Follow my orders and your head will remain attached to your thick neck. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go.” I grabbed the collar of his robe.
“Where?” he asked.
“Back to the Lamp Post Inn.”
He paused. “You’re crazy.”
“So I’ve heard.” I poked him with my blade. “Now move.”
When we reached the front of the inn, I instructed my captive to go inside first. Drawing in a deep breath, I stayed behind him as he pushed open the door. This could be a very big mistake. I steadied my nerves by concentrating on being confident like Loren and cocky like Quain.
While we were still in the shadowy threshold, I peeked around my guy. The common area was rather crowded for the middle of the night. I counted five. All armed.
The leader, Chane, rounded on my acolyte. “What’s going on? Where is she?” he demanded.
“Uh.”
My captive wasn’t the most loquacious. I moved next to him but kept my stiletto pressed against his skin.
“I found him lost in the woods.” I tsked. “Poor thing should know the forest is dangerous at night.”
Swords appeared in four hands within seconds.
However, Chane studied me. I copied him. He was as tall as Belen but not as wide. Although I didn’t doubt strong muscles lurked underneath his robe. His nose looked as if someone had sat on it, and his brown hair had been cut military short. A soldier despite the acolyte’s garb. He appeared to be around Loren’s age—about thirty-five.
He broke the silence. “You’re either incredibly stupid or …”
“Or what?” I asked.
“Or incredibly stupid.”
“Now, now. Play nice. I didn’t kill any of your men. And I could have easily disappeared. I still can,” I said with a bravado I didn’t feel.
He motioned to one of his men. “Hent, check her room.” Then he returned his attention to me. “Okay, I’ll play. What do you want?”
“It’s more about what you want. You sent your colleagues to ambush me. I assume you have a good reason?”
A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I just wanted to talk.”
Yeah, right. “Okay. So talk.”
It took him a moment to cover his surprise. “Just like that?”
“You’re looking for bodies for Estrid’s army. Right?”
“We’re missionaries, spreading the creator’s message of peace and educating the—”
“Save the speech for someone who is gullible enough to fall for it. Fact is, I’m interested. You know I’m skilled. Four of your guys couldn’t catch me. I can fight for Estrid, but I don’t want to be a draftee, devotee or anything else ending in ee.”
Understanding shone in his eyes. He relaxed until Hent returned from my room with the acolyte I’d pinned to the door. Two small rips marked the sleeves of his robe. He clutched my knives in tight fists, glaring at me.
“We can’t wake Tyson,” Hent said.
Every gaze focused on me. “He’ll be fine once the drug wears off.”
“What did you use?” Chane asked.
“Trade secret.”
“And my other acolyte?”
“Sleeping in the woods.”
He paused for a moment before gesturing to the bar. “Let’s have a drink and discuss your … terms.”
I waited.
“Consider it a cease-fire. No one will attack you. I give you my word.”
“And you are?”
“High Priest Chane of Ozero Realm.”
High Priest? An impressive rank. “What are you doing in Mengels?”
He laughed. “Spreading the word. I can be very persuasive.”
I glanced at his men. They still held their swords at the ready. “Uh-huh.”
“They’re overprotective.” He signaled them, and all but Hent sheathed their weapons.
He stared at me as if waiting for the opportunity to throw my knives at me.
Chane noticed. “Hent, give me those.”
With reluctance, Hent handed him the two throwing knives. Chane placed them on the bar, then he inclined his head at me, waiting. I released his man and slid my stiletto back into its holder on my belt. He pulled a stool out for me, then settled on the one next to it as if we were old friends getting reacquainted. But his gaze turned cold when he focused on my ex-captive. “Otto, fetch us some wine.”
The man rushed to obey.
“So, Miss …?”
“Irina of Gubkin Realm.” I perched on the edge of the stool.
“You’ve traveled a long way.”
I shrugged. “The northern realms are quiet compared to what’s happening on this side of the Nine Mountains.”
“As I understand it, you’re looking for a higher-ranking position in the High Priestess’s army. Why didn’t you approach the