Free Honor Among Thieves by Elaine Cunningham Page B

grimaced.
“You know, that sounded a lot more sensible before I said it out
loud.”
    Delgar shot a quick glance in his direction.“Glass
weapons can be surprisingly durable. Dwarves have several reasons
for making them. But these daggers aren’t meant for fighting.
They’re like costumes: meant for effect, not everyday wear.”
    “ These daggers? How many are there?”
    The dwarf tipped his head toward a table. Five
finished daggers rested on a soft, thick cloth.
    Fox went over for a closer look. “Why so many?”
    “Practice, for starters,” Delgar said. “I haven’t
worked in glass for more than forty years.”
    “They all look perfect.” Fox picked up one of the
curved blades, turned it this way and that to catch the light, and
traded it for another. “They’re also identical.”
    “Not quite. Look more closely at the roses.”
    At first glance, Fox assumed that the tightly furled,
long-stemmed rosebud had been etched into the glass. But it looked
somehow . . . deeper.
    He ran his fingertips over the blade to find that it
was perfectly smooth.
    “The design is inside the glass! How did you
do this?”
    The dwarf put down the cooled glass and stretched.
“When you have a few years to spare, I’d be happy to show you. Put
that dagger back and run your eye down the line from left to right.
Concentrate on the roses.”
    Fox did as he was told. The tight rosebud on the
first dagger unfurled a bit on the next, and so on until the fifth
dagger depicted a half-blown rose.
    “The Thorn’s rose opens at sunrise and closes at
sunset. There’s no telling exactly when we’ll get into Muldonny’s
curiosity room. If you have to make the switch with someone
watching, you’ll have less chance of detection if the copy and
original match.”
    Fox grimaced. “I should have thought of that. Good
planning.”
    “I’d take credit if I could. It was the elf’s idea.
She’s got Avidan working on them, too.”
    “Now there’s a frightening thought.”
    “He was in here a little earlier. He said he’d
offered to treat you for the pox but you declined, so he was
extending the offer to me.” Delgar lifted one eyebrow. “Clearly,
Avidan misunderstands the nature of our relationship.”
    Fox touched the cut on his forehead. “He made the
medicine for this. He had extra.”
    The dwarf’s lips twitched as he took in his friend’s
battered face. “Is that the fairy’s handiwork?”
    “Indirectly,” Fox said. “She created what you might
call a misunderstanding with a couple of fishermen. The older one
had a wicked hook.”
    The dwarf snorted. “How long have you been waiting to
use that line?”
    “Oh, I’ve been casting about for an hour or two.” Fox
paused. “We could probably do this for hours.”
    “Let’s not.”
    The dwarf pushed his chair away from the fire pit and
stretched his muscled legs. “Are you going to tell me what’s on
your mind, or do I have to fish for it?”
    “I thought we were stopping.”
    “Believe it or not, that one was accidental. Change
the subject before someone overhears and kills us both.”
    Fox took the locket from his bag and handed it to the
dwarf.
    Delgar’s gaze went right to the broken clasp. “This
looks like an easy fix. I’ll get to it tonight.”
    “Never mind the clasp. Look inside.”
    The dwarf flipped the locket open and studied the
runes. Color faded from his forge-reddened face.
    “You, my friend, have been dipping into the wrong
pockets.”
    “The locket isn’t stolen. It was passed down through
my family.”
    A long slow whistle escaped the dwarf. “Are you sure
this means what it seems to? The adepts claim that Eldreath’s
bloodline had been wiped out.”
    “They claim a lot of things.”
“True.”
    “If I am descended from Eldreath, I’m making a liar
out of Rhendish just by breathing and walking around.”
    “How did he find out?” The dwarf grimaced as the
answer came to him. “Your mother.”
    “That’s the obvious answer.”