Poison Dance (Midnight Thief #0.5)(9)

Alvie’s expression became more guarded when he saw James. “You’re the buyer?”

“I can get your goods past the Red Shield checkpoints,” said James.

“You’re not afraid of the Palace?” The trader looked him up and down.

James smiled. “More marks against me won’t make a difference. But why would you take this risk?”

Alvie gestured in the direction of the city. “The Palace keeps our prices low by prohibiting us from selling to others. I travel far for those goods. I want to make my fair due.”

“I assume Thalia’s told you that we’re only planning one run. We don’t plan to be in Forge much longer.”

“Plenty of money in one run,” said Alvie. “And if things go well, there’s no reason we couldn’t continue this elsewhere.”

“Fair enough,” said James. “We’ll need to find buyers, but I’d like to see the wares first.”

“Certainly.” Alvie gestured to Thalia. “It’s in the fifth wagon.”

As Thalia disappeared behind the wagon, Alvie turned his eye toward James. “You know her well?”

“No. She sought me out.”

Alvie looked him over again. James suspected that this time Alvie wasn’t evaluating his abilities as a smuggler. He wasn’t sure what the caravaner could discern from his appearance, but whatever Alvie saw didn’t clear the suspicion from his eyes. “I’d ask your help in keeping her out of trouble, but I suppose that’s not your arrangement with her.”

James smiled, not missing the layers of questions behind the caravaner’s remark. “She’s not looking to stay out of trouble.” If Alvie wanted to know more about their arrangement, he’d have to get it out of Thalia.

“Are you involved with her?” Alvie asked bluntly.

“Why do you want to know?”

“We both stand to lose much if this venture goes wrong. Thalia says you’re trustworthy, but I need to know if anything’s clouding her judgment.”

James didn’t believe for a moment that the man’s concern was for business reasons. Not with the protective way he watched over the girl. James supposed there was no point in needlessly antagonizing the man. “She keeps her distance,” he said.

Alvie gave a quick nod, apparently satisfied, and looked to where Thalia was climbing out of the wagon. “She’s changed,” he said. “Since she lost her sister.”

The caravaner was watching him for a reaction. James gave a noncommittal shrug. “I just do what she pays me to do.”

There was a twitch of frustration in Alvie’s expression. He might have said more, but Thalia was already coming back with a large box. If she suspected she’d been the topic of conversation, she gave no sign of it. Alvie placed the box on the back of the nearest wagon and opened it. The smell of a half dozen spices filled the air.

“Cinnamon, saffron, curries from Minadel,” said Alvie. “I can give you some samples to show to your buyers.”

“That will work. I should have buyers ready in a fortnight.”

Thalia stood on her toes and kissed Alvie lightly on the cheek. “You’ll bring me the venom next time?” When Alvie stayed silent, she added, “If you don’t, I’ll just go forward without it.”

For a moment, it looked like Alvie was going to argue, but he gave a defeated nod and squeezed her tight. “Take care of yourself.”



*





Thalia danced again that night. Every time James watched her, he noticed something new. This time, it was the way she arched her neck when she bent to the music. It was a small detail, sensual and carefree at once.

“You bed her yet?” asked Bacchus. “If you’re not interested, I want a try.”

“Stay away from her,” he said, eyes fixed on the dance. Actually, James wasn’t sure why he hadn’t tried anything yet. He’d never been shy of women, and there were always some adventurous serving girls eager to roll with an assassin. But Thalia had made it clear from the beginning that their arrangement was purely business—going out of her way to wipe off her eye paint and rouge before she came to talk to him, refusing to sit on his bed. This was limited only to her off stage dealings. When Thalia was on stage, she was enchanting—all swaying hips and fluttering lashes.

Presently, the music stopped, and she came by their table. Her cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and the hair around her face was damp with sweat. She’d been in good spirits after visiting the caravan.

Thalia made a barely perceptible gesture toward a table in the corner.

“Over there. That’s your guildleader, isn’t it?”

James glanced over. “That’s Gerred.”

“And who’s that with him?”

“One of the noblemen he caters to. Goes by Steffen.”

Thalia shifted herself carefully so no one but James could see her lips. “And his real name, is it Hamel?”

He really needed to stop being surprised when the girl knew something she shouldn’t. James gave a discrete nod.

Her face took on a focus that he’d never seen before. “I need to speak with him.”

“Why?”

She hesitated a split second. “He has connections.”