Page 41 of Dishonor Among Thieves
“By the gods…” Neo lunged forward and grabbed the items in his hand before I could make out what they were. “Syndrian…I…I apologize. Bringing this to you was a grave error. We’ve exposed you to risk that I did not intend.” He turned to me. “We must leave.”
“Neo, wait!” I grabbed his arm, but it was Syndrian’s words that stopped him.
“I may be one of the few common people who don’t spook easily,” he said, nodding to Neo. “That’s why Flynn knew he could bring you here.”
Neo’s fist tightened protectively around whatever he had in his hand. “You know, then? What these are? And why they matter to me?”
Syndrian didn’t respond. Instead, he dug into the deep front pocket of his leather apron and pulled out a tiny key. He stuck the key inside a lock hidden in the front of the desk, releasing the top, which swung open on silent hinges.
“Come,” he said.
We walked around to meet him behind the desk, my eyes wild with wonder at the treasures inside. Hidden beneath the locked surface of the desk was an assortment of instruments and tools the likes of which I’d never seen before.
“These are only what I keep here at the guild shop,” he admitted. “My father is nosy and quarrelsome but thankfully doesn’t care to indulge my interest in making custom tools. I craft them on my own time. There’s a place in Kyruna where I can trade freely. Meet with clients.”
“Freely?” Neo echoed.
They spoke of a place called Knuckles & Bones, a pub on the outskirts of a neighboring shire, while I stared with wonder at the instruments neatly laid out inside the desk.
“You made these?” I asked, unable to keep the awe from my voice. I’d never seen such intricate handiwork, such an impressive assortment of wonders.
The huge cutler’s face reddened as he nodded at my praise. “That’ll remove arrows.” Syndrian pointed to one particular instrument, then lowered his voice. “Even those of elvish origin, not that we’ve seen any of those in these parts for at least a thousand years.”
I grimaced, knowing there would be no point in making a tool that would never need to be used. “And this?” I asked.
“Dental tongs,” he said. “Strong enough to tear out any toothandits roots.” He scrubbed the back of his hand along the stubble above his ear. “Even a tooth long and strong as a fang.”
Fangs.Panic tightened around my throat like a clawed hand as I looked at Neo’s fist. “Are those…”
“I believe so,” he said. “Haeloc’s.”
Haeloc’s fangs. Inside a goblin-made dagger left in the sanctum. But why? For what purpose? Did that mean that whoever did such a thing left the fangs as a message? For whom?
Neo and I had a lot more to sort out than simply my secrets.
“As I said, I’m not like most common folk. The things forgotten for generations are like the volcanoes that created our land. Truth lives eternally beneath the surface. And eventually, no matter how buried, the truth will erupt. I maintain a steady business thanks to things better left forgotten.” Syndrian reassembled the dagger as he added, “I believe vampires exist. Just like I believe in a lot of things that are forbidden. Goblin craftsmen and the magic they wield, just to name a few. But I keep my nose in my business and leave others to theirs,” he said, meeting Neo’s eyes.
Whether Syndrian was trying to convey that he neither knew nor cared if Neo was himself a vampire, I wasn’t certain. I added that to the growing list of things my husband and I would need to discuss. In private.
“Syndrian.” I pointed to something inside the desk. “Can you tell me about these?”
His grin was unexpected, wide and sincere, his perfect teeth softening the hard planes of his face. “Those are brand-new,” he said. “Not a commission. Made ’em for myself but don’t have a need for ’em just yet. Double edged, spear point. Set of four identical throwing knives.” He slipped a finger through the wide ring at the end of one and held it out for me to inspect.
“Are they for sale?” I asked.
He opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a length of supple brown leather with beautifully sewn fittings and sheaths shaped to hold the four matched blades. Syndrian raised his dark brows and looked from me to Neo. “I assume you’ll need me to resize the leg harness?”
ChapterEleven
Meeting with Syndrian only seemed to make Neo more agitated. After we left Serlo’s Cutlery, Neo had a change of heart. Instead of going ourselves, he sent Flynn off to deliver a message to the girl who’d purchased the death mask.
“I don’t know her family name. Refer to her as Lady Pali.” Neo gave the boy directions to a cottage on the opposite end of the shire. He clamped a hand on the boy’s collar. “Please, Flynn, for once in your young life, say as little as possible. Simply let her know I’ve been delayed and will be in touch. That’s all. No jokes, no chatter, not a single unnecessary word. The lady is winsome, so be prepared. No flirtation, no romancing. This is a matter of the utmost discretion. Do you understand?”
I unwound Sara’s reins from the stall behind the cutlery and mounted my horse while Flynn looked at Neo like he’d been gifted an entire purse of gold.
“I’m going alone?” he breathed. “My first real quest? I’m…I’m… You trust me?” he babbled, practically falling over himself with excitement.
“Let’s be clear. I donottrust you,” Neo growled, “but I have more pressing concerns. Circumstances leave me no choice. And this not a quest. This is an errand. You’re simply a messenger.”
