A Book of Spirits and Thieves (Spirits and Thieves #1)(8)

“Take my hand, boy.”

Maddox hesitated only another moment before he clasped the old man’s hand and helped him to his feet. “You’ve lost a great deal of blood.”

“Not nearly as much as you’ll lose if you don’t do exactly as I say.” The old man produced a dagger and held the sharp edge of steel to Maddox’s throat. “A trusting youth, aren’t you?”

Trusting. Or stupid. In Maddox’s experience, they seemed to be interchangeable when it came to many of his choices.

“Give me all your coin.” The old man’s lips peeled back from broken teeth. His breath smelled like rotting vegetables. “Or I’ll slit your throat.”

Stupid. So very, very stupid.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t have any coin on me.” Maddox grimaced as the man pressed the blade harder and warm blood trickled down his neck. “If you let me go, I promise I can get you plenty.”

“Promises don’t work for me.”

“You’ve obviously confused me with someone else, someone with coin to spare. Do I look like someone who carries bags of gold and silver with me?”

The old man peered at him. “You’re well dressed enough.”

Today he wore tailored leather trousers, a suede vest, and a fine shirt made from linen imported from across the Silver Sea. At first glance, Maddox Corso might be mistaken for the son of a lord.

Which made sense. These clothes had been stolen from the son of a lord.

“How old are you, boy?” the thief asked.

He hesitated before answering truthfully. “Sixteen.”

“Where is your family?”

“In the city up ahead,” he lied. “They’re the ones with the gold.” He racked his mind in search of a way to escape this predicament. “So tell me, do you lie in wait at the side of the road like this often? Is this a hobby or a profession? Is it profitable?”

His questions only got a jab from the blade to silence him.

Maddox then tried to clear his mind, to concentrate on the man and nothing else. To will the thief into unconsciousness with the strange and nameless power inside him.

Unfortunately, his magic failed him today, which wasn’t surprising. It almost always did any time he actually tried to use it.

Another voice cut in. “What are you doing with my son?”

The old man wheeled around to face the intruder, taking Maddox with him. “Your son, eh? So it would appear your father has come looking for you.”

“So it would appear,” Maddox mumbled.

But Livius was his guardian, not his father.

Livius, who was dressed every bit as well as Maddox today beneath his long, hooded cloak, swept his gaze across the otherwise vacant road until it finally landed on the man’s overturned cart. One of his eyes, as always, was covered by a black patch. “Does this setup work well for you? Drawing hapless flies into your sticky web?” he asked.

“Works like a witch’s charm. I find many of those willing to help an old, dying man also have pockets heavy with gold. I only wish to unburden them of that weight.”

Livius’s gaze locked on Maddox, his good eye dark in his tanned face. “The boy is young and naive. He’s susceptible to deception.”

“And I am very grateful for that weakness.” The thief’s grin widened. “You have the power to stop this peacefully. I’m happy to release him . . . provided you show me what I want to see.”

Livius reached into his leather satchel and pulled out a handful of golden coins that glittered under the sun. “Something like this?”

From his current position, Maddox could only guess that the thief’s eyes also glittered.

“Yes, something exactly like that.” The thief roughly poked Maddox in the center of his back. “Take the coins from your father, boy. Take them and put all of them in my bag. Only then will we part ways.”

Maddox did as instructed, the blade pressed to his throat the entire time. He avoided eye contact with Livius, who watched him patiently, his arms crossed over his thick chest. Five handfuls of gold coins made their way into the thief’s worn sheepskin bag.

“Excellent.” The thief shoved Maddox away and picked up the bag from the ground. “Be on your way now, the both of you. And don’t look back, or you’ll regret it.”

“You think you can steal my gold and just walk away?” Livius clasped Maddox’s shoulder, his fingertips biting into his flesh.

“Seems that way, doesn’t it?” The old man turned away with a sneer.

“Not to me.” Livius let go of Maddox, closed the distance between him and the thief in two steps, and sank his blade into the man’s back.

The thief collapsed to the ground, real blood now mixing with the fake substance he’d used to lure Maddox to his side.

With a last hiss, he closed his eyes forever.

“He was old and weaker than you,” Maddox mumbled. “He was going to let me go. You could have taken back the coins without killing him.”

“What did you say?”

Maddox turned to Livius and was greeted with a strike to the side of his face.

A good blow, too. He saw actual stars behind his eyes as he stumbled backward on the loose soil, tasting coppery blood in his mouth.

“You take your own sweet time getting here when you know I’m waiting for you,” Livius growled, “and get yourself in trouble along the way. What else is new, you pathetic little brat? If I hadn’t finally lost my patience and come looking for you, what do you think would have happened? I’m sick to death of dealing with your insolence.”