The Purloined Heart

The Purloined Heart

I knew she was trouble the moment I saw her walk into the bar.

She was tall, with long, red hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, wearing leathers cut to reveal her curves without interfering with her movements. Her short-sleeved shirt exposed a hint of cleavage and two tanned and muscular arms, one carrying the scars of an adventurer’s life. A sword hung from her belt, an expensive pistol resting right beside it.

She looked around the bar, saw me, and walked toward me with the air of someone who wouldn’t be denied. A drunkard grabbed her arse, and she punched him out without even looking at him. I guessed she had knuckledusters under her gloves. Or magic.

I studied her thoughtfully as she sat down facing me, her eyes studying me with equal interest. There was a tiny hint of magic surrounding her, far less than I’d have expected from a female adventurer. They tended to have magic of their own, or paid a sorcerer to layer protection spells over their bodies, or their adventures would come to a short, sharp, and humiliating end when they encountered a rogue magician. The basilisk scales woven into her leathers would give her a certain degree of protection, true, but any capable magician could easily work around them to swat her like a fly. Or turn her into one.

Her voice was calm and focused. “Quinn?”

I looked back at her. “Who wants to know?”

“My name is Starlight,” she said, “and I want to hire you.”

I raised my eyebrows.“Starlight” sounded silly, the type of nom de guerre an innocent or inexperienced child would adopt before having the naiveté knocked out of them. I’d have laughed, except she didn’t move like an inexperienced kid. The way she held herself, her awareness of everything around her, spoke of a person with as much experience as me, perhaps more. It was hard to place her origins, but I’d have bet good money she was noble-born, perhaps on the wrong side of the blanket. That would certainly explain how she had enough money to go adventuring, and the freedom to do so.

“I see.” I cast a privacy ward. The rest of the customers turned their attention back to their drinks and stopped pretending they weren’t trying to listen to us. “What can I do for you?”

Starlight eyed my drink, then shrugged. I passed the glass to her. I don’t know what the bar put in its alcohol, but I had a sneaking suspicion they should’ve poured it back in the horse. If there was another bar in town that served magicians, I’d have been drinking there, but magic and alcohol rarely mix. A drunk magician is a danger to himself and everyone within a mile or two.

“I’ve been hired to rescue a kidnapped girl,” she said. “I need your help.”

“And why do you need me?”

“The girl was kidnapped by Lord Dragon,” Starlight said. She looked down at the table just long enough for me to notice. “I need a magician to help me rescue her.”

My eyes narrowed. I’ve never met Lord Dragon personally, but I knew him by reputation. Most independent sorcerers adopted a nom de guerre of their own—they were just as bad as mercenaries and adventurers when it came to renaming themselves—yet their names were often talismans. A man who called himself Lord Dragon was almost certainly a pretentious git, a complete idiot, or a dangerously unhinged maniac. The fact that he was still alive after taking over a tiny lordship for himself suggested very strongly he was the latter.

The stories about him didn’t make the prospect of facing him any more attractive. He lived on the fringes of magical society, doing things most magicians would shun him for doing, and his isolation from his own people made him all the more dangerous to anyone who crossed him. If the stories were true, Starlight was asking me to take a horrendous risk.

“I was offered five hundred crowns for the girl’s safe recovery,” Starlight said quietly. “I’ll split it with you if we rescue her.”

“Five hundred crowns?” I stared at her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. I was astonished. That was enough money to buy a house, or the magical education I’d been denied since my expulsion from school.

My mind raced. If someone was willing to pay that much, the girl couldn’t be a commoner. An aristocrat’s daughter? I felt a stab of pity. Lord Dragon was reputed to be a slaver, crafting slave collars to keep his victims in helpless bondage for the rest of their lives.

I suppose that explained why the girl’s father had hired Starlight, rather than asking for help from a magical ally. If word got out that the girl has been held prisoner by a slaver, even briefly, she’d be unlikely to make a good match. She might never marry well. Or at all.