Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [62]
"Best not be coming back to the Cutter's Dip any time soon!"
The woman started to twist angrily. Keph held his grip on her and kept them moving.
"Bad odds," he muttered to her. "You can get back at them another time."
A moment later, they were through the tavern's door and out on the platforms of the Stiltways. Keph walked a short distance away from the Cutter's Dip, then let out a breath and released his hold on the woman.
"What did you do to get Stag and Drik so mad at you?" he asked her.
"They tried to rob me a tenday ago," she said bluntly. "I objected." She jerked her head at the door of the Dip. "This was just… unlucky. Thank you for your help."
Keph couldn't hold back a disdainful snort.
Dark, he thought, if Jarull and the other cultists saw this____________________
"Don't thank me," he told her. "If Stag had held his tongue, I would have given you back to him."
The woman looked at him with disgust. "I guess I shouldn't have expected any more." She drew herself up as if she wore a noblewoman's finery instead of country clothes, and lifted her chin haughtily. "In that case, accept my apologies for interrupting your drink and my congratulations on a fight well fought."
Keph blinked at the change in her manner and cocked his head. Country wife, scrapper, noble-the woman had more sides than a loaded die. She must have recognized the surprise in his expression because she grimaced and shook her head.
"No," she said, as much to herself as to him it seemed. She looked at him and bent her head. "Thank you," she said with genuine gratitude. "Even if you don't accept it-thank you."
"I…" He searched for words, something that would knock her back down. To his surprise, he couldn't find any. "You're… welcome," he told her haltingly.
She extended her hand. "Feena," she said.
"Keph," he replied, "but then, you already know that." He took her hand and bowed over it politely.
Feena started.
"Keph Thingoleir?"she asked, surprised.
Keph bit down on his tongue, let go of her hand, and said, "My reputation precedes me."
Feena seemed confused. "No," she said, "it's just… this is the second time tonight I've heard your name. And you shake hands like your father."
"I'm sure he'd be pleased to hear that," Keph snapped. He stepped away from her. "You should go."
She looked at him strangely. "I'm sorry if I-"
"Go. And like Noyle said, best not be coming back any time soon."
"All right." Feena's expression hardened. "Will they come after you?"
Keph laid a hand on Quick. No weapons was an unspoken rule inside the Cutter's Dip, but outside was another matter.
"They can try."
"You'll be alone," she warned.
"I was waiting for a friend before you came along. He'll be here soon." He gave Feena a cold glare. "Leave!"
She turned and stalked away-then paused and twisted to look back at him.
"I owe you," she said, then she turned back around and continued on.
"You don't owe me anything!" he shouted after her.
He turned to the railing of the platform and looked out into the darkness of the Stiltways.
Dark, he thought silently. Mistress of the Night, are you the only one who can see me as more than the failed son of Strasus Thingoleir?
He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them again. He stood that way for a long while, listening as the sounds of the Cutter's Dip returned to normal at his back. The bleeding light of the tavern caught his shadow and threw it out, long and thin.
Heavy footsteps came creaking along the platform toward him. He twisted around. Jarull stood staring at him.
"What are you doing out here?" the big man asked in surprise.
Keph put on a false smile. "A little trouble," he laughed. "Nothing I couldn't handle." He swaggered up to his friend and punched him in the arm. "You should have been here. You would have enjoyed it!"
Jarull gave him a sober look and said, "Variance wants to see you."
All of Keph's swagger and bravado vanished.