Page 68 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

“Speaking of shopping,” Lirion interjected, a lot of his happiness wilting in the pit of his stomach. “I am light on funds and might not be able to afford everything you’ve decided I need. My focus has been on locating my sister, and my purse has become rather light, my sticky-fingered lover.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re shopping with a mix of coin and fast hands. Plus, we have Puppy.”

Lirion glanced over at Maxie, who was once again bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Fenric says I can be an excellent distraction.”

Lirion nodded. “I believe him, but then, I’m quite good at distractions as well.”

So, with that understanding in place, their trip became an enjoyable breeze as they visited countless shops, all with Fenric leading the charge. The thief loaded him down with new, more durable clothes that could withstand storms and sun as they sailed. He acquired thick gloves to protect his hands from the harsh conditions and the ropes he’d undoubtedly be handling, as well as some supple leather boots that hugged his calves and cushioned his feet, which he couldn’t be more grateful for. He’d been feeling too much of the road through his parchment-thin soles. What surprised him was the heavier garments.

“It’s summer.”

“And Baza is much farther north. Their nights are colder than you find down here. All made worse on the deck of a ship. Warm clothes are a must,” Fenric stated as he thrust another heavy leather jerkin into his arms.

The thief was astounding to watch. His hands were lightning quick and they were constantly moving. The only thing faster could have been his tongue. He talked a shopkeeper’s ear off or sent them darting away for more goods. At best, they purchased only a third of what they actually walked out with.

Belstrom moved closer as Fenric went to check another selection of wool socks—apparently, a person couldn’t have too many pairs of socks. The barbarian had nearly doubled in size during the shopping trip. While Maxie had proven to be a fantastic distraction, Belstrom had become their pack mule, carrying everything Fenric purchased or stole.

“I have discovered Fenric is quite sensible, and it is much less hassle to heed his instruction in these matters,” Belstrom murmured in a low voice, as if afraid the thief would overhear him.

It was hard to argue with his logic. Especially when Fenric started asking about his sister’s sizes. The notion Aria would need things for survival after her escape had never crossed Lirion’s mind. His only concern had been about freeing her, not about keeping her comfortable and alive afterward.

But Fenric thought about it and added things for Aria to the stack after asking Lirion about colors and patterns she might like. Lirion chose a few things because he knew they would make her smile, but Fenric’s thoughtfulness had permanently lodged a lump in Lirion’s throat.

It was late afternoon when Fenric declared they’d gotten enough provisions to survive a trip to Baza and back. Lirion hesitated. Fenric had done so much for him already, and they hadn’t even left the port yet. Sure, the thief was expecting his help in return, but helping with a job didn’t feel like enough. He needed to do something more.

And he spotted the perfect thing.

He grabbed Fen’s wrist, pulling his companion to a sharp halt. “Bel, you and Puppy go on to the house. There’s one more stop Fen and I need to make. We’ll catch up.”

“Where are we going?” Fen demanded, digging his heels in when Lirion attempted to pull him down a different street.

“To see an old friend.”

“Who?”

Lirion leaned in close, brushing a light kiss along Fen’s bristly jaw. “You’re just going to have to trust me. I trusted you all day, didn’t I?”

He still didn’t budge an inch. “Yeah, but you need me to help get your sister back.”

“And I’ll need you for the weeks ahead on the ship. Come with me.”

Fenric huffed but started moving with Lirion down the narrow street until he came to what looked to be a small shop with a simple sign that had just a red tulip on it.

Lirion pushed open the creaking wooden door and was hit in the face with the rich scent of incense and tea.

“You’re in the mood for some tea?” Fenric inquired as he looked around.

“Nope.”

“Lir? Is that you?” An old man’s voice rose from the shadows and a knife seemed to magically appear in Fenric’s hand, his reflexes were so fast. It probably explained why Fenric had lived so long with so few scars on his beautiful body—the rogue was always prepared to slice a throat.

“If you used more candles in this place, Gillea, you’d be able to see it’s me,” Lirion teased as he stepped up to the shop counter. It was cluttered with boxes of tea, teacups, fancy tea infusers, and more. “I’m not asking for much. Candles. Lamps. Even magic glowing orbs would be nice.”

“Yes, but the tea needs to rest, and it prefers the dark to rest in,” Gillea argued, his voice barely over a whisper, as if the tea didn’t like loud noises either.

“More likely, it’s easier for you to conduct shady business in the dark.”

The old man with wild tufts of white hair sticking out from his mostly bald and spotted head smirked, creating a complicated tangle of wrinkles on his face. “There’s that, too.” His too-sharp brown eyes snapped over to Fenric and didn’t waver. “You’ve brought me a new friend. Looking to sell him?”