Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 Read Free Page A

pushed on something I couldn’t see, and exposed
a hidden staircase. Interesting. Quentin activated a tiny lightglobe on the
interior wall, illuminating steep and polished wooden stairs. A plush carpet of
deep crimson ran up the center. It was all a little much for Nigel’s taste. Maybe
select noble clients saw this part of the house as well. At the top of the
stairs was a door with a screened panel that was just large enough to look
through. Quentin looked inside, and so did I. An ornately carved bed dominated
the room. I found myself grinning.
    “What?”
Phaelan asked.
    “Just
a fun fact to know and share. Conjuring up the dead relatives of Caesolian
courtiers must only pay so much. It looks like Nigel supplements his income
with a little blackmail.”
    Quentin
was searching Nigel’s room, and doing a very efficient and professional job of
it for a reformed thief. Someone had been staying in practice. He’d just
discovered a compartment in the headboard of the bed containing a jumble of
small boxes and papers. He took out a white stone box. The entire thing fit in
the palm of his hand. It had been sealed with black wax, but the seal had been
broken. Quentin opened the box.
    The
world exploded. Or at least my corner of it.
    I
found myself on all fours like I’d taken a giant fist to the gut. If there was
any air in the alley, I couldn’t find it. My vision swam, and pain stabbed
behind my eyes. I heard someone whimper. I think it was me. I pitched forward,
my forehead landing in something I didn’t want to identify, its stench the only
thing keeping me from passing out. I dimly felt Phaelan’s hands on my
shoulders, lifting my face out of the muck. I was dizzy, nauseous, and had an
urge to make my own contribution to the pile of scraps next to me.
    “Stop,”
I managed.
    Phaelan
stopped lifting, but didn’t let go. I was grateful. I don’t think I could have
stayed upright on my own. I raised my head slowly until my eyes were level with
the street. I resisted the impulse to gulp air into my lungs. I took a few
steady breaths. My vision began to clear.
    “Raine?”
He sounded worried. That made two of us.
    I
tried to answer, but my mouth was too busy breathing.
    “Are
you all right?”
    I
thought about nodding, but decided against it. “Think so.”
    “What
happened?”
    “I
think Quentin just found what he was looking for.”
    Unfortunately,
I was right. Sometimes I hate it when that happens. Quentin showed no signs of
putting the whatever-it-was back in the box, and my head hurt too much to
maintain contact with him until he did. Fine. I broke contact. He was on his
own. I assumed he had done everything he came to do, and would be coming out
soon. I sat back against the wall of the alley, watched the door where he had
gone in, and concentrated on breathing. Breathing was good.
    No
alarms went off, no lamps were lit in the servants’ quarters or anywhere else
in the house. The street was quiet. The few people who passed the alley with
magical talent enough to see past my shields probably thought I was either
drunk or had just been mugged. Either way, no one stopped to ask.
    “What’s
keeping him?” Phaelan asked.
    Glass
shattered. A lot of it. It sounded like it came from the back of Nigel’s house.
This was followed by shouting. I recognized Quentin’s voice. It sounded like he
had found his good friend Trouble, and they had made their own exit from
Nigel’s bedroom. Phaelan helped me to my feet and then sprinted toward the back
of the house. I ditched my cloak and followed as best I could. Considering how
I felt, my idea of running more resembled a loping jog. No use worrying about
waking the neighbors now.
    Not
surprisingly, Phaelan was the first to reach the back wall. He hoisted himself
smoothly to the top and stopped, something my cousin rarely did. Phaelan only
acknowledged one direction, and that was forward.
    “Goblin
shamans,” he said.
    That
was unexpected. I heaved myself up beside him.