Soul Weaver: A Fantasy Novel Read Free

so much to ensure our perpetual good fortune and continued happiness.”
    “So true.” Shel nodded her head in vigorous agreement, sidling ever closer to the fat man’s side. He snaked out one arm suddenly, slipping it over her shoulders. Shel wanted to get a little closer yet, but she was startled when he pulled her in close against him. “Sir?”
    “You're a fine little lass,” he said, looking down at her. His hand slid down off her shoulder, trailing over her back and sliding around her waist. She wanted to squirm and pull away but she forced herself to endure his unwelcome attention. His breath stank of stale wine. “And an honest one, to boot. I think a reward is in order, so I do.”
    Shel pretended not to understand, though in fact it was the fat man who was confused. “A reward, kind sir?”
    “For your good deed!” He laughed heartily, tightening his grip around Shel’s narrow waist and pulling her closer. “My house isn’t far, not far at all. Return with me, and we'll raise a glass of wine to his majesty’s health!” The fat man’s dancing eyebrows promised more than wine awaited her at the merchant’s house.
    “Oh,” said Shel, feigning surprise. It was difficult not to show the disgust she felt. She caught his beady eyes and held them with her own. He never even noticed the hand slipping beneath his coat to relieve him of his purse.
    “A tempting offer, kind sir, but I'm afraid my father will be looking for me. He sent me to the market to buy two loaves and a dozen pies from the baker, but when I saw you drop your treasure I forgot all about it. Truth, sir, I dallied at the Square of the Swans and daydreamed beside the pool there. I'm late enough as it is.” It was all a lie, of course. Shel hadn’t seen or heard from her father in years, and wasn’t the least bit sorry for it.
    “Such a shame,” said the fat man, still leering at her. His voice had fallen to a hoarse whisper, and his arm was tighter than ever about her waist. His gold had already disappeared, unnoticed, beneath her cloak – now Shel just had to get away from him. He wasn’t letting go. “But surely, one glass of wine…”
    “My father doesn’t want me drinking wine, kind sir,” Shel said, making a face. “He says I'm too young for it yet.”
    “Ah,” began the fat merchant, but before he could continue there was a loud clatter just behind them. The fat man jumped back, his beady eyes going wide as they fell on his heavily laden cart, which had begun rolling back down the hill. “Oh no!” he cried.
    Shel jumped back in the opposite direction, and for an instant the cart was between her and the fat man. Then, picking up speed, it plummeted down the hill. The cart swayed ponderously from side to side as the rickety wooden wheels clacked over the uneven cobblestones. The fat man threw up his hands and raced after his cart, momentarily forgetting all about the pretty girl. Shel turned and ran in the other direction without thinking.
    It was a stupid thing to do. Every good thief knew better than to run from a mark; if you had to run, you were caught already. Shel didn’t know why she ran, and she forced herself to slow down almost at once. There was a thundering crash from behind her as the fat man’s cart reached the bottom of the hill, crashed over a curb and overturned in the middle of the street. He’d be far too busy to come looking for her…
    “You there, halt!”
    Shel cursed under breath. Suncloaks! There was no way they’d seen her take the purse, but they must have seen her run as soon as the cart went careening down the hill. At best, they’d assume she’d set the cart loose for some reason. Shel broke into a run again, catching sight of the two men in their bright, golden cloaks coming toward her from a side-street. She cast her eyes frantically about, looking for Rickon or West or any of the others. They were nowhere to be seen!
    Shel was starting to panic. Racing, she turned onto the next