Fable (Fable #1)(26)

Footsteps struck the floor inside before it opened and a bald man with a long, dark beard stood in the doorway. I pulled my knife from its sheath slowly as I ducked inside, and the door closed behind me, the bell jingling. He didn’t even bother to look at me, making his way back to a stool in the corner of the shop where a lantern was lit over a mounted magnifying glass. Beside it, a pipe was still smoking, filling the little shop with the sweet, spicy smell of mullein.

Candles fixed into old, grimy rye bottles were set on almost every surface, their light flickering off every shiny thing tucked into corners, on shelves, laid out on tables. Raw stones, polished jewelry, gold-plated cartographer tools. Little things that had once meant something to someone, somewhere. But for people like me, very little held more value than a roof or a meal. I’d given anything that had ever meant anything to me for both.

I picked up a comb set with a row of rare seashells like the ones Fret sold at the barrier islands, inspecting it. A matching hand mirror sat beside it, where my reflection looked back at me, and I stilled when I saw my lip. West was right, it needed to be stitched. The swollen skin was reddened around the edges, the bruising almost to my chin.

I moved to the next table before I could spend another moment looking at myself. I didn’t want to see what or who might look back at me in that mirror or how different she was from the one who used to live inside these bones.

“What’s this?” I picked up a bronze statue of a naked woman wrapped in a ship’s sail.

The gambit looked up from his magnifying glass, the pipe clenched in his teeth. He glanced at the statue without answering and then went back to work. “You either came in for somethin’ or you didn’t.”

I set it down, making my way to his worktable. My eyes searched the glass cabinets behind him, where shelf after shelf of knives were laid out. But I didn’t see the dagger.

A flash illuminated in the corner of the shop, and I turned toward the single beam of moonlight reaching through the murky window. It landed on a small wooden chest with a tarnished brass lock. Inside, the dagger lay in a narrow, velvet-lined box.

The gambit’s eyebrows rose when he saw what I was looking at.

My fingers caught the edge of the lid and I lifted the glass.

I felt him behind me before I heard him, and I dropped my hand, stepping back. His face was turned up in a question, studying me as his arm reached over my head. He picked the box up and set it down on the worktable between us.

“Just bought this off a trader,” his gruff voice turned up in a sudden friendliness.

“Can I?” But I didn’t wait for his permission. I opened the glass and picked it up, leaning into the window. It was even more valuable than I’d realized. The blue and violet stones were set in swirling patterns, sparkling so the light rolled like waves over their facets. Their unique voices danced between my fingers like the notes of a song. If I closed my eyes, I could pick them out one by one.

“How much?”

The man leaned back on his stool so his shoulders were pressed against the wall, puffing at his pipe until the smoke was billowing again. “Make me an offer,” he said.

I looked at him from the side of my gaze, calculating. He’d want more than what he’d paid Willa to make a profit. I wasn’t sure what the ring was worth, but it would be smarter to use the coin West had given me and keep the ring for trade in Ceros. “Twenty-five coppers.”

He laughed, a rattling cough catching in his throat. “Get out of here.” He reached for the dagger, but I clutched it to my chest when I saw the glint in his eye. That was my first mistake.

“Thirty.” I tried again.

“That’s Bastian made.” He lifted his chin, looking down his nose at me.

The great port city in the Unnamed Sea was known for its gemstone creations. Nothing as intricate as the dagger was made in the Narrows because anyone truly skilled with stones went to Bastian, where the Gem Guild was powerful and paid well. There was no shortage of apprenticeships and plenty of work.

It was also where my mother had learned everything she knew about gems. Everything she’d taught me.

My life had depended on bartering, and I’d already broken the most important rule of negotiation. He could see that I’d give him everything for it if I had to. If I didn’t, West would leave me in Dern, and I’d be right back where I was on Jeval.

“Thirty coppers and a gold ring.” I wanted to bite my own tongue off as I pulled West’s ring from my pocket and set it on the counter before him.

It was already more than he’d ever get from someone else, but I could see by the way his mouth twitched that he wasn’t finished with me yet.

A wicked smile curled on his lips as he waited.

“And these.” I clenched my teeth and fetched the gold bracelet I’d pinched and the two brass buckles from my other pocket, dropping them on the table. “If you throw in a dredging mallet.” Mine was still sitting at the bottom of the reef.

“Deal.” He plucked a mallet from the tray of tools behind him and waited for me to count thirty coppers before he handed it to me handle first.

If I didn’t have the bracelet to trade in Ceros, at least I could dredge.

I looked out the window, trying to find West’s shape in the dark. I couldn’t see him, but I felt him watching.

He’d made the same mistake I had, showing me that he cared about the dagger. And he didn’t just want it. He needed it for some reason. If I knew what that reason was, I might be able to find just a little leverage.