admire the amethyst ring she’d given him at their first meeting. He loved flaunting it under the noses of the nobles who used him for their amusement; they hadn’t the slightest idea that he held the heir to the throne’s life quite literally in his hand. She was a vibrant girl, with life connections far beyond her years. An elixir from her ring or the emerald brooch would sustain him for weeks. He kept them about his person at all times.

They were so very tempting.

Of the night’s take, only Duchess Nasia’s chain was of any use. He set it aside for his next visit to Basket Street and placed the rest of the jewels into the casket in front of him. Leaning back in the chair, he yawned and stretched his arms over his head, ready for a good day’s sleep.

Taking up the candle again, he crossed to the bed, then stopped, frozen in shock at the sight of the open elixir case sitting in the middle of the counterpane. Trembling, he placed the candle on the stand by the bed and grabbed the case. Two bottles were gone. Two!

He lit more candles and threw open the wardrobe doors. Everything appeared undisturbed, but he knew better. Tossing shoes and boots aside, he wrenched up the hidden panel beneath and pulled out the locked casket. It wasn’t locked anymore, and the phial containing Duchess Eona’s powerful soul was gone.

Brader!

Not bothering with a candle, he went to his cousin’s room and knocked softly on the door. After a moment Brader opened it. He was in his nightshirt, but his dark eyes were sharp and alert.

“Come with me,” Atre whispered.

He waited until they were safely in his chamber with the door locked, then rounded on the man, who was already taking in the disorder.

“How could you be so careless?” Atre hissed, shaking with anger. “If you needed to drink so badly, why didn’t you say something before we went to the theater?”

Brader’s expression was eerily calm. “It wasn’t me.”

Atre’s disbelief was fleeting, giving way to a cold jolt of fear.

He clenched his fists in rage, fighting down the urge to scream. “No one has ever gotten close enough to find my cache before. No one! And some of the elixirs are gone!”

“I told you we should have moved on sooner.”

“And I told you to kill them!” Atre snarled, pulling a battered old pack from under the bed and dumping the contents of the jewel casket into it.

“I’d have to have found them, wouldn’t I?” That chilling calm was giving way to anger. “Damn you, Atre, you’ve brought this down on us again. On my children, my wife!”

“What? For providing for all of you? For taking a third-rate pack of country mummers and making them the toast of Rhiminee? Or is that your conscience pricking you again? Tired of eating the souls of children, Brader?” Atre sneered as he pulled on a fresh shirt and sat down to pull on a pair of old boots. “Your precious family will be safe once we’re gone.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Get dressed, for hell’s sake! We’ve got to go.” Atre took an old brown tunic from the back of the wardrobe and pulled it on.

“No.”

Atre looked up in disbelief. This was a first. “How long do you think you’ll last without me to sustain you? Don’t tell me you finally mean to give up?”

“Better that than deserting them. I can’t do that. Not like this.”

Atre resisted the urge to cry out What’s so special about this family? But he knew better. He’d feared this day since Merina’s first child was born, perhaps even before that, from the way Brader looked at her. The man had abandoned other children, other wives, but it had changed him a little, every time, until he’d come to loathe the very thing that kept him alive to enjoy his women and brats.

He stood and went to Brader. “But you can do this to me, cousin?” he asked sadly. “After all these years, these centuries we’ve shared, you just leave me to die? You know how

much I need you. You came with me willingly, remember, and you loved this life of ours. The times we’ve had, cousin!” His tone was pleading, but his eyes were hard when he added, “Please, don’t make me threaten them. I still have my special little collection, you know.”

The taller man closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ll help you get out of the city.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask of you. Now hurry and get dressed. We have to get to Basket Street before the sun comes up.”

Brader thought he’d left Merina sleeping, but when he returned to the bedchamber he found her trembling beside the bed, clutching a dagger to her breast. A real one, not a stage prop. Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she looked like fury itself.

He tried to approach her, fearing she’d harm herself, but she shrank back from his touch and raised the knife. “You monsters!”

Brader’s heart lurched in his chest. “Keep your voice down!”

“I followed you, Brader. I listened through the door and heard what he said. Do you think I’m a fool? All these years together, and you looking the same as the day we married. And all the secrets! You and he slipping out when you thought I wasn’t looking, and all the times whispering behind locked doors with your ‘cousin.’ Or is that a lie, too?”

“No. That much is the truth.”

“I thought-Maker’s Mercy, I even hoped you were just lovers, but it’s worse than that. All the times children began to die when we stayed too long in a town. I tried not to think about it, told myself I was seeing something that wasn’t there, but it’s true, isn’t it? What are you?”

“There’s no name for it, as far as I know.”

“You-you eat children’s souls? It’s monstrous!”

“Maker’s Mercy, keep your voice down!”

“Why? Will you eat my soul, too?”

“No, but he will. And the children’s.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “And you’d let him!”

“He’s had a hold on me, through you, all these years. But after tonight he’ll be gone. He’ll give me what I need to protect you, but only if I help him leave the city. I’ll be free of him, and we’ll all be safe.”

She held the knife out in front of her and hissed, “Safe? I never want to see you again! If you ever come near my children, I’ll tell them exactly what their papa does, and I’ll put this knife through your black heart! Get whatever you need and get out!”

Her voice was rising dangerously again. He dressed and packed quickly and buckled on his sword. Then, heart breaking, he turned to her one last time, but the hatred in her eyes sealed his throat.

She pointed to the door. “Don’t come back. If he kills us, our blood is on your hands.”

He knew it was the truth. Shouldering his pack, he went back to Atre.

As he always did.

CHAPTER 44. Luck in the Shadows

ALEC almost missed the shadowy figure slipping around the corner of the house. It wasn’t tall enough to be Brader. He smiled a thin hunter’s smile. Atre; even better.

As the man ghosted silently away to the backstreet behind the house, Alec could easily have put an arrow in his back, but they needed him alive to lead them to Illia’s soul. There was no time to go for the others or his horse, so he had to chance an owl’s hoot. The figure was nearly out of sight when Seregil and Micum appeared silently beside him.

“He’s alone,” Alec told them as they set out after Atre.

“I wouldn’t wager on it,” Seregil murmured, looking around.

It wasn’t easy tracking. The faint glow of the false dawn and the echoing empty streets made it difficult to stay close enough to keep him in sight. After a few blocks, Atre began to disappear between houses, walking through yards and jumping over low walls.

“He’s not going toward Basket Street,” Seregil muttered.

“Could be taking the long way,” said Micum, grunting as he heaved himself over a wall. He was a fit man, but even Sebrahn hadn’t been able to completely heal the scars left on the back of his thigh by the dyrmagnos.