Julia bit back a retort that she didn’t need anyone to “bring” her, and had come as a favor to him. “All right,” she said. “What would you do with a horse like one of those?”
“Um-race it, I guess. Win money.”
“But you’d have to do more than just stable a racehorse. It has to be run every day. And the rider-”
“All right,” said Galerio with a sigh, “I can’t afford the horse, or a trainer, and I don’t have the experience to race it myself. So a horse like that will have to wait till I get rich.”
“You’ll not get rich associating with friends like these!”
Julia and Galerio turned, Julia automatically Reading. “Wicket! What are you doing at the horse market?”
“I might ask you the same question,” said Wicket, who was holding Mosca and Antonius by the arms, one with each hand. Surprisingly, despite squirming and kicking, neither boy seemed able to escape Wicket’s grip. ‘ Associating with pickpockets is not what I’d expect from the daughter of the Lord of the Land.”
“Mosca! Antonius!” Galerio flashed. “Is it true?”
“No, of course not,” Mosca said sullenly, but his light eyes shifted, showing anyone who was watching that he lied.
“But you received money enough yesterday to live well for half a year!” Julia exclaimed. “Why-?”
“Gambling,” said Galerio angrily. “I told you Capero’s gang would cheat you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, well-gotta pay what I owe them,” said Mosca.
“You got into debt?” Julia asked. “And you too, Antonius?”
The younger boy mutely hung his head.
“I get it,” said Wicket. “The gamblers cheated these kids out of their reward and then gave them a chance to get it back-only they lost twice the sum. Right, boys?”
Mosca refused to reply, but Antonius nodded glumly.
“Fools!” said Galerio. “When are you going to learn not to gamble with Capero and his thugs?”
“I’ll have him run out of town,” said Julia.
“Oh, good lesson,” said Wicket. “Teach these kids that if they have friends in high places they can be as foolish as they please, ‘cause you’ll bail em out!”
Stung, Julia demanded, “Then what would you suggest?”
“If you can’t teach ‘em to be sensible-a lesson I’ve always had trouble with meself-teach em to solve their own problems, not expect someone else to,” Wicket told her.
“That’s what we were doing!” Mosca protested.
“And how long do you think it would have been before a Reader caught you?” Julia asked. “Wicket’s not a Reader, and he caught you before you’d been at it long enough to- How much did you steal?”
“Nothing,” Mosca said tartly. “Your friend here grabbed us before we got anything.”
Although Mosca was braced for use of his small Adept talent, Julia was sure he was lying.
Wicket confirmed her suspicion by shoving Mosca forward as he let go of him. While the boy was off-balance, Wicket’s hand moved so rapidly that Julia did not see how it happened, but Wicket was dangling a small leather money pouch from his outstretched fingers.
Wicket set Antonius on his feet more gently, and held out his hand, palm up. With a shrug, Antonius produced a ruby pendant and a lace-trimmed silk kerchief.
“Give them to me,” said Julia. “The auction pavilion has a place where lost articles may be turned in.”
“Except for the kerchief,” Wicket said, “these are not items usually lost. You would be questioned, Julia. I saw where these came from. Let me just put them back.”
“Now who’s suggesting that someone else solve the problem?” Julia asked.
“Ah, but it’s clear you’ve already learned that lesson, and who am I to lose a chance to do a favor for the daughter of the Lord of the Land?”
Still in possession of the stolen items, Wicket disappeared into the milling crowd.
“Interesting friends you have, Julia,” said Galerio.
“Extremely interesting,” Julia agreed, Reading after Wicket. His head was full of that nonsense he used to mask his thoughts from Readers as he slipped through the crowd, brushing against a woman watching her husband bargain for a pair of carriage horses. Wicket tucked the lace kerchief through her sash as he jostled her, murmuring an apology as he stumbled away.
A young, very pretty woman was buying an orange from a vendor when Wicket came up behind her, jogged her elbow, and caused her to drop the coin she was holding out.
“Oh, sorry!” Wicket said, stooping as the girl did, managing to kick the coin aside, stumble in front of her as she reached for it, push her enough off-balance that in her bent-over position she had to fling her arms out to keep from falling over, and at that moment fling the pendant over her shoulder from behind, so it fell right in front of her as if the chain had broken just then instead of when Antonius had pulled it loose.
“My ruby!” the girl gasped. “You fool-you almost made me lose my ruby!” But by the time she gained her feet and turned to vent her anger on Wicket, he was nowhere in sight.
Odd. At the moment Wicket had slipped the pendant over the girl’s shoulder, his mental litany of nonsense had halted until he slipped away. Julia paid closer attention as he stalked the man from whom Mosca had filched the pouch of coins.
The still-unwitting victim was a tall man with curly brown hair, dressed to be admired by the women at the horse market. He wore tight britches that showed the hard muscles of his legs, fine polished leather riding boots, a green silk shirt open in front down to where his deep-veed tabard covered it, and a wide leather belt.
At the moment he was pretending to consider a fine chestnut mare parading in one of the rings, but his attention was actually on two women who were bored with horses and having a much better time considering him. Julia was amused to see him turn his handsome profile to them, and then shift his weight so the muscles in his legs rippled-all in a pretense of getting a better look at the horses.
Wicket slipped up behind the man, and Julia turned her attention to Reading the reverse-pickpocket.
Wicket noted where his attention lay, came up on the other side of the man from the women, and waited.
It wasn’t long before the women decided to try to attract the attention of the man they thought had not noticed them. They giggled.
The tall man turned, lazily, as if it were the first time he had realized they were there. When he saw them, he gave an appreciative smile-and while his attention was thus distracted, Wicket slipped his hand over the man’s shoulder and dropped the money pouch.
It slid inside his shirt collar, down his bare skin, and lodged inside his shirt, where the belt held the tabard against it-a most unlikely trajectory.
Feeling the movement, the man grasped for the pouch, thinking he was being robbed. Relief flooded his mind as he found his money where he expected it to be.
Julia’s mind, however, was flooded with surprise.
For not only had Wicket’s litany of mental oddments cut off when he dropped the money pouch-in that moment he had become blank to Julia’s deliberate attempt to Read him!
Aradia’s morning was filled with her usual duties. Since she had learned to Read, most of her reports came over the Path of the Dark Moon. Huge as the Savage Empire now was, it was possible with Readers to relay a message from one end to the other within half an hour.
In the lands Aradia was responsible for, little was happening except for cleanup of the chaos created by the mysterious whirlwinds, and healing of those who had been injured. Readers and Watchers were spending days and nights trying to trace the source of Adept power necessary to cause such winds, but to no avail.
To add insult to injury, this morning just after sunrise a freak hailstorm had destroyed acres of apples just ripe for picking, in the lands between here and Lilith’s. No Reader had noticed the storm coming, and no weather controllers had been on the scene. By the time they reached the orchards, the storm was over, the damage done.