Heart Thief Read Free

bloodred. The leg irons slashed past the black dye into the leather, leaving white gouges in his boots.
    â€œHey, get smart,” Smelly said. “Your feet are too damn big for his boots.”
    â€œOh, yeah.”
    Ruis smiled ironically. Soon he’d be in the Guildhall dungeon. His concern to find a place to live was gone. No more worrying that the generational spells of old buildings would crumble at his long-term presence, that his neighbors would turn on him when they realized what he was, or about the ever-present threat of his uncle Bucus finding him to make him permanently disappear. Bucus, along with the rest of the NobleCouncil, now had him.
    Some of the GreatLords and Ladies were out of town. As soon as the FirstFamilies Council had a quorum, he’d be tried. No doubt they’d take care of it before the Autumnal Equinox in a couple of eightdays. He wondered if he’d be executed—another rare occurrence in Celta, where duels were customarily used to settle differences. But he’d sinned against the FirstFamilies.
    Anger stirred, then subsided. Whatever happened, the life he’d known for thirty-five years was over. The crash of his world had been inevitable. The way he lived and his fury-fueled recklessness had guaranteed that. Though he’d stolen for survival and for objects to power his Earth machines, stealing from nobles had been enough to warrant death. Perhaps just being a Null was reason enough to kill him.
    His anger had been just, but even justifiable anger was something he couldn’t afford. He must master it, since it had determined his fate.
    He hadn’t seen this coming.
    â€œOf course the FirstFamilies Council will loan our Family the 1,500,000 gilt,” Aunt Menzie said from the front of the Family glider. “If they don’t, it will be because you bungle the asking. You are far too young to be the Head of the Family.”
    â€œI don’t bungle,” GrandLady Ailim D’SilverFir replied with all the calm she could muster. “I have been trained from the moment I was born and have been a circuit judge for six years.” She smoothed her brocade robe over her lap in a nervous gesture she was careful never to allow anyone else to see, then glanced through the spell partition separating her from G’Uncle Ab and his niece, Aunt Menzie. Ab drove the glider to the Guildhall.
    Both of them sat stiffly, radiating anger and resentment.
    Menzie snorted. “That didn’t stop you from coming up with the insane idea of selling the D’SilverFir Residence and ancestral estate. ”
    â€œIt would have cleared the debt once and for all.” She’d hated the thought. It still brought a lump to her throat to consider selling her home, to be the first D’SilverFir to fail the Family, but it was the sole honorable option available.
    â€œUtter nonsense. A good thing the Family convinced you otherwise, even though it took an eightday to do it.” Menzie nodded sharply, not bothering to look back at Ailim.
    Ailim clenched her hands. The confrontation with her Family had been ugly. Even after an eightday, emotions ran high. Her specific Flair was telempathy—being able to hear thoughts and feel emotions from others. She’d had to keep her personal shields at full strength, pulling energy from her body to bolster them. Emotions from her Family had pummeled her in waves, leaving discomfort and migraines in their wake.
    â€œThere is no reason to go over old ground,” Ailim said, knowing it was futile, that Menzie would yammer at her during the entire drive.
    â€œYou—”
    â€œSilence. I need to compose my thoughts.” With a wave of her hand she thickened the shield between them until no sound came through. Menzie squawked in outrage, but Ailim didn’t hear.
    Menzie’s mouth moved faster and faster. Ailim turned to the passing city scenery. Autumn foliage melded into a vivid blur that both