“How? Are you experiencing a haunting in your icy kingdom?” Maddox narrowed his eyes. “I want that pouch of coins back.”
Frustration with this city, with this boy, with this quest, made Magnus want to start yelling and making demands. Demands he knew would go unanswered. “Steal your own pouch of coins. This is mine.” Magnus looked up at the sign above his head, reading it several times. The Bronze Rooster. Yes, that was it!
“Finally,” he said with a huge sigh of relief before he tensed up again. “Fine. If you’re not going to help me, then leave me alone. Go chase some of your spirits far away from me.”
Magnus pushed through the entrance, scanning the dark interior for the men he’d spoken to. They’d relocated to a table near the back of the tavern, two women now with them.
Magnus walked up to them and slammed the pouch of coins down on the table. “One hundred silver coins. Now give me back the obsidian blade.”
Emil looked up at him with surprise. “Well, look who’s back.”
“And with coin.” Kalum’s eyes were wholly fixed upon the pouch. He opened the strings to look inside, and his eyes widened. “Well done.”
The man placed the black shard on the table and pocketed the pouch.
Emil didn’t take his gaze from the blade. “What’s that thing worth, anyway? I might be interested in buying it. Perhaps I can make you a better deal than Samara can.”
“It has no price,” Magnus said. No price was high enough to take this treasure away from him again. Without it, he was truly lost. He ignored the man’s glare at his glib answer. “Now, where can I find Samara?”
“My, my, such insistence.” Kalum chuckled. “Did your little adventure into thievery help you form a bit more of a backbone, boy?”
“Yes, indeed it did.” Magnus picked up the blade and drove it into the wooden table right next to Kalum’s hand. He jumped up.
“Where can I find Samara?” he asked again. “Answer me, or I promise I won’t miss next time.”
Emil’s and Kalum’s eyes were wide, and the color had drained from their faces. “Very well,” Kalum said. “She’s in the building at the end of the street just before you come to the dead end—the tallest one in the city. Go to the third floor and knock on her door. You can’t miss it. She’s painted it red.”
“See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Magnus slipped the blade beneath his shirt and left the tavern.
The way he had caused unmistakable fear in those two men gave Magnus a surge of confidence. No wonder his father was always so self-assured. Everyone regarded the king with fear.
“Fear,” King Gaius had said more than once, “leads to obedience. And obedience is what gives a leader their power.”
Magnus groaned with annoyance when he saw that Maddox had followed him around the corner.
“Are you deaf?” he asked sharply. “I told you to go away, witch boy.”
“I heard what you said in there,” Maddox said, his hands on his hips. “You just gave away my money for a shiny black piece of rock.”
“My money,” Magnus retorted. “After all, I stole it.”
“Money you stole from me.”
“Livius.”
“Me,” Maddox insisted. “I should get half the profit from that thing.”
Magnus shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t want half of this treasure.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Magnus decided to ignore him and follow Kalum’s instructions to find Samara, but after he’d taken several steps, he paused.
“How can I not remember what he just told me?” he said under his breath.
“What?”
“Shut up, I’m thinking.” He wracked his mind. It had been explained clearly to him not a handful of moments ago, yet now it was completely gone.
The witch—what had she said to him before she forced him to touch the statue?
“When this all over, you won’t remember what has happened here.”
That memory was as clear as the cloudless sky that stretched above this city.
Magnus looked down at the bloody bandage wrapped around his right hand.
The mark she’d given him. His faulty memories since he’d arrived here.
They had to be connected.
“What if I forget who I am and why I’m here?” He allowed a moment of panic to ripple through his chest and grab hold of his heart. “If I forget where to find Samara so easily, what’s next?”
Maddox frowned. “That man told you she’s at the end of the street. The red door.” At Magnus’s quizzical look, he prompted, “Remember?”
“Clearly not!” Magnus gritted his teeth. “You will take me there.”
Maddox’s brows shot up. “Will I, now?”
Magnus grabbed his arm. “Yes, you will. And if you do, I will promise to repay you every coin I stole.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The word began to bubble up in Magnus’s throat before he had a chance to think it through. “Please,” he said.
Maddox blinked at him.
“Please,” Magnus hissed, hating the word and hating that he needed to use it here and now. “I need your help. I don’t have much time before it’ll be too late.”
“Too late for what?”