Free The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price by C. L. Schneider

at him in the growing dark. Clearly, the boy had no grasp of the utter panic that had been moving through me only seconds before. Or what it took to put it away. He’d probably never felt anything like it. “I’ve seen you before. You’re not King Sarin’s page. You belong to his son, Guidon.”
    His whole body stiffened. “It is my honor to attend Kael’s heir.”
    “Is it?” My mood broke some at his well-practiced lie and I grinned. “What’s your name, boy?”
    “Liel,” he said, tentatively.
    “Well, Liel, forgive me for being cautious, but in the two years that I’ve been tasked with hunting Kael’s outlaws, Sarin has never once sent someone to fetch me.”
    “Escort you, My Lord. I’m an escort. Not a…a dog,” he finished boldly.
    I laughed at that and he panicked.
    “Forgive me, My Lord.” Liel bent his head and a mountain of hair hid the redness creeping over his cheeks. “I should be punished for speaking so.”
    “Speak how you like. Just tell me one thing.” I slid my sword away. “How did Prince Guidon know I’d be on this trail, today, right now? Did he pay for a spell to track me?”
    “I wouldn’t know, My Lord. I was told only that my duty is to bring you.”
    “Then your duty has to wait.”
    The boy got brave again. “I’m sorry, but I must insist.”
    “And I insist you go back without me. I have business in the city. I’ll come by the castle after, but you better have my pay ready. It’s best if I don’t stick around.”
    Politely, he said, “Yes, My Lord.” But I could almost see the risk of Prince Guidon’s displeasure hanging like a shadow over his head.
    “Wait.” Twisting around behind me, I took hold of the leather bag tied to my saddle. “Take this.” I pulled a knife and severed the line.
    “What is it?” he asked, standing in his stirrups to see.
    “Something that might keep you from getting into too much trouble.” As I turned back around and opened the flap, Liel threw a hand over his mouth. “Use it,” I told him.
    “As what?” he balked.
    “Proof you found me.” I closed the flap and tossed him Taren’s head.

SEVEN
    I flipped a handful of coins on the counter. “Another.”
    The gangly Kaelishman behind the bar pushed the dirty-water-colored hair out of his eyes and tallied the coins with a sour expression. Slowly, his disagreeable stare lifted. “We don’t serve your kind in here,” he said, taking the coins and slipping them in his pocket.
    “Your girls have no trouble serving me,” I reminded him.
    “My girls have no wits.”
    “I’ve been here before. I’ve had your ale. And your girls.”
    “I remember.” His pointed, scruffy jaw went tight. “And I remember how my place looked after you left.”
    “Your place is a shithole,” I said plainly, kicking at the dirt floor. “But I paid for those damages. Both times.”
    “I’m thinking, this time, you should pay in advance.”
    My hand twitched. All night, I’d been trying not to give into my temper. Anger was too closely linked to casting for a Shinree soldier and I was barely ignoring the urge as it was. Even so, I almost hit him and got it over with. But I lost interest as a woman’s arm came around the barkeep’s bony shoulder. She moved out from behind him and shamelessly draped her body over his.
    Whispering in his ear, she said, “I’ll take care of this one.”
    He gave no argument. The barkeep slipped quietly away into the kitchen with an almost blank expression, leaving the woman to size me up with herpretty blue eyes. They were pale and bottomless, and gave her square face a pleasing, sultry quality.
    “What are you drinking, Shinree?” she asked.
    The answer was easy. “Whatever you’re pouring.”
    “In that case…” Giving me a quick, frisky smile, the winegirl turned to the rows of shelves on the wall behind her. She reached up high for a lone, black jug sitting at the top. “Ever heard of the Wandering Isles?”
    “Don’t think so,” I