that I knew of a cure?”
Annis frowned. “Cure for what?”
“For what ails you. For your curse.”
“A cure for my curse? There is no cure for my curse. I don’t have a curse. I was born this way. This is natural.”
“Annis, you don’t know what you are, do you? You don’t know why your skin turns blue or why your nails grow long and you don’t know why you’d turn to stone if sunlight hit you.”
“Yeah?” Annis said with a sniff. “And I suppose you do?”
“Actually, yes,” Tanith said, “I do.”
“You’re lying.”
“I have access to certain files and documents, and one of these files is about you. You were cursed, Annis. It’s why you’re the way you are. And there is a cure. But if you want it, you have to do something for me first.”
“Like what?”
“I’m putting together a group of special individuals with unique talents, and I want you to be part of it.”
“You want me to be in your gang? I eat people.”
“The new me doesn’t care,” Tanith said. “Eat whomever you want. Apart from the other members of the team, obviously. That would be inconvenient. Just do what I say, and when our job is done, you’ll be set free and you’ll get the cure. The rest of your life is yours to live, however you want to live it. May I suggest not living it in a ditch?”
Annis stood. She wasn’t a tall woman, so still had to look up. “You say you’ve changed. How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Do you know what a Remnant is, Annis? I’ve got one of them inside me, permanently bonded to my soul. I’m a changed woman.”
“So you’d be breaking me out of here, is that it?”
“That’s it exactly. Providing you agree to my conditions.”
Annis looked at her for a long while. “If you bust me out of here, you have a deal.”
“Oh, good,” Tanith said, grinning. “Come on.”
She turned and walked out, and Annis hesitated. If this was some sort of trap, she couldn’t see the point of it. So she followed.
“We’re lucky,” Tanith was saying as she walked. “They didn’t put you in a top-security gaol. Don’t get me wrong, Annis, you’re a dangerous lady, you truly are. But prisons like these are designed to keep in prisoners who aren’t really smart enough to try to escape.”
Annis was barely listening. Her body tingled as her magic returned. It was such a wonderful feeling it almost took the breath from her. She could grow her fingernails and swipe that pretty blonde head from those pretty broad shoulders if she so wanted. But then what? She didn’t know where the hell she was. She didn’t know how the hell she’d get out.
They passed a man on the ground with his throat torn open. Another up ahead, and beside him, a woman. Annis’s stomach rumbled.
“You kill all these?” she asked, salivating.
“Not all of them,” said Tanith. “I have a friend with me. You’ll meet him later. I think you’ll like him. His name’s Dusk. He’s been cursed, too, in a way, so you’ll probably have lots in common if you... oh, Annis, please. We really don’t have time.”
Annis looked up from where she was kneeling beside the dead sorcerer, but didn’t answer. Even though she had a habit of living in ditches, she still didn’t like to speak with her mouth full. Some things were just rude.
Sabine put the ring on the table, and watched Badstreet’s eyes widen.
“Is that it?” he asked, his voice hushed. Around them, mortals laughed and joked and drank, and music played, and occasionally someone would nudge past Sabine on their way to the bar. Sabine didn’t mind. The only thing she cared about was convincing the man before her that the metal band on the table was the Ring of Salumar.
“Yes, it is,” she said. “Forged in shadow and fire by the seventh son of a seventh son, a blind man who spoke with the dead. He made that ring for the great sorcerer Salumar, but on the eve of delivery, the dead came to him, and told him Salumar was going to kill him. So he hid the ring, refused to hand it over and Salumar therefore killed him. A cautionary tale for those who don’t believe that dead people can have a sense of humour. Pick it up.”
Moving slowly, reverently, Badstreet did as she told him.
“It’s heavy,” he said. “And powerful. I can feel the magic, even holding it...”
He went to put it on, but Sabine’s hand flashed, snatching the ring back. “Sorry,” she grinned. “You break it, you buy it. You know how it is.”
Badstreet’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t expect me to buy it without testing it.”
“You don’t need to test it,” she laughed. “Badstreet, come on. A sorcerer of your ability doesn’t need to slip the ring on to his finger to know the power it holds. You said so yourself, you could feel it.”
He rubbed his hand along the stubble on his jawline. “It’s like it’s calling to me.”
Sabine nodded, and did her best not to laugh. “Do you have the money?”
He hesitated, and she saw the debate going on behind his eyes. To pay, or not to pay, that was the question, and it was a debate Sabine was used to seeing. The outcome, of course, was never in question.
Badstreet passed an envelope to her beneath the table. Keeping it out of sight, Sabine opened it up and quickly counted. It certainly seemed to be all there. She nodded, pocketed the envelope, and put the ring into a small wooden box. Then she stood up, handed the box to Badstreet, and gave him her best smile.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said.
She walked to the back of the pub, squeezing through the throngs of people. It would take Badstreet fifteen to twenty seconds to figure out how to open the box, another ten seconds of examining the ring and savouring the power, and then a full two to three minutes before the power started to fade and he was left with a useless trinket she’d picked up from a dingy shop on the way there. Plenty of time.
She had already deactivated the alarm, so she left quietly through the fire escape door, stepping into the alley behind the pub. She turned away from the street, because that would be the direction in which Badstreet would eventually sprint, and instead walked deeper into the darkness. Another job done. Another sucker suckered. All in a night’s work.
“Such a naughty girl.”
Sabine whirled, looked up. Standing straight out from the wall above her was a blonde woman in a long leather coat.
“Good to see some things haven’t changed, though,” the woman said, slowly strolling down to street level. “You were a sneaky little thief thirty years ago and you’re a sneaky little thief now.”
Sabine tried a smile. “Hi, Tanith. Been a while.”
“It has at that,” Tanith said, hopping to the ground. She was taller than Sabine. “To be honest, I never thought you’d live this long. Sneaky little Sabine, always conning the wrong people, always getting the wrong people mad with her. I thought you’d have ended up dead in the gutter a long time before this.”
“Is that why you’re here, then? To kill me?”
“Kill you?” Tanith laughed. “Now why would I do something as mean-spirited as that?”
“I heard you’ve got a Remnant inside you.”
“True enough, but while my insides may be rotten, I still like a good reason to kill someone. It has to be either business, personal or out of sheer boredom. Do