May 28, 2016 by jorthusbooks
Keinigan caught her by the wrist just before she slipped a dagger into his side. As she looked at him surprised, he grins with a shake of his head. “Ah, ah. You forgot I can see the future. Not that I needed to in this case. A dagger in the folds of your dress, Gala? Is that really your style? You’re a guild thief. Isn’t this overstepping your bounds?”
She broke into that lopsided smile once more as she backed away, pulling her hand free. “Only a little. Besides, I won’t be the last, Keen. I know who the soldiers are looking for now. Lord Weiss is that handsome fellow we saw in the tavern last year and, if that is so, then the woman with him is the magda. If you value your life as much as I know you do, or the life of your little redhead magda woman, then you’ll get square with the Journeyman and stop hiding here.”
He lunged to snatch her, but she moved swiftly with inhuman agility to evade his grasp. “Gala, no! Don’t tell them.” Keinigan’s heart leapt with desperation.
Turning back to him briefly, she spoke so softly that only his keen faerlin ears heard it tumbling through the heavy night air.
“Don’t worry, Keen. I’ll give you a head start.”
Then she glided into the crowded ballroom as daintily as a feather on a breeze, and was gone from his sight.
Standing alone in the flickering yellow light of the quiet corridor, Keinigan looked down and saw the dagger that Gala had left in his possession. He grinned.
“Remind me to repay you later,” he whispered to the vanished woman.
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