“I like it,” Kel said. “I like sleeping in a good bed, and eating three meals a day, and talking to people who aren’t afraid I’m going to steal their purses. I like not having to run and hide, and not worrying whether I’m going to be dragged in front of the magistrates and sentenced to another flogging.”
“But you’re trapped here!”
“I can leave any time I want, Ezak. I just don’t want to.”
“How can you not want to?”
“I’m comfortable here.”
“But people are telling you what to do all the time!”
Kel turned up a palm. “I’m used to that, Ezak. It’s just that it always used to be you telling me what to do.”
“I did not! I’m your friend! I always took care of you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” Kel agreed. “But I’m a grown man now. I can take care of myself.”
Ezak stared at him. “You didn’t think so a couple of months ago.”
“I know,” Kel said. “I was scared.”
“Well, yes! It’s a big nasty world, and you’re a small fellow. You need someone to protect you.”
Kel shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said.
“Of course you do,” Ezak said bitterly. “You just think the sorcerer’s widow can do it better than I can now.”
“No,” Kel said. “She doesn’t take care of me; she showed me that I could take care of myself.”
“I took care of you!”
“You did,” Kel agreed again. “But I don’t want you to anymore. I do it better myself.”
“Better? You call this better?” He waved at the shop.
“Yes.”
“It’s a trap! A prison! You’ll need to work your whole life, until you fall over dead!”
“At least I won’t starve, or get a knife in the back,” Kel replied.
“You’ll certainly never get rich!”
“I didn’t get rich with you, either.”
“Not yet, but one of these days I’ll find a way, and I’ll do it without taking orders from anyone.”
Kel looked at him. “You never wanted to be a potter, did you?”
“What? Of course not! My uncle made me take that apprenticeship.”
“You got kicked out on purpose.”
“Yes, of course!”
“You didn’t really try to join the guard that time, did you?”
“No, I just told Uncle Vezalis that.”
“I tried, when I was about sixteen. I was too short.”
“I…you did?” Ezak stepped back from the counter.
Kel nodded. “I don’t want to be a thief, Ezak. I never wanted to be a thief.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
Ezak stared at him. “Never?”
“Never.”
Obviously shaken, Ezak said, “I don’t believe you!”
Kel turned up both palms.
For a moment Ezak simply stared. Then he stepped forward and leaned on the counter again. “She has you under a spell, doesn’t she?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“No,” Kel said, amused.
“But you might not know,” Ezak insisted. “She could have ensorcelled you without you knowing it.”
Kel shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He thought, but did not say, that if he had been under anyone’s spell, it was Ezak’s-his words and attention had been as effective as magic in keeping Kel’s loyalty. But the spell was broken now. All it had really taken was some time away from him, in the company of honest people. That, and watching how Dorna had set about building a new life when her husband’s death destroyed her old one.
“Well, I think so,” Ezak said. “I’m going to find a way to get you out of here, and then you’ll help me steal Nabal’s talismans, and we’ll go to Ethshar of the Spices, or Ethshar of the Rocks, and use them to get rich. She knows too much about our places here.”
Kel looked sadly up at Ezak. “We might be able to find you a job,” he said. “Maybe you could still join the guard after all.”
“I’m not taking anyone’s orders! If you weren’t enchanted, you’d know that!”
“I’m not enchanted. I grew up.”
“Well…well, stop it!” To Kel’s astonishment, he saw tears in Ezak’s eyes. “You can’t grow up! You’re younger than me!”
“I’m…I’m twenty, I think. About that. That’s grown up.”
“It doesn’t have to be!”
“I want to be,” Kel said quietly. “I’m sorry, Ezak.”
“You can rot, Blabbermouth!” Ezak said. He straightened up and spat at Kel. “If you never wanted to be a thief, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was scared.”
“Of me?”
“Of everything. Including you.”
Ezak looked around. “I should smash all this crockery. Then Dorna would throw you out and you’d have to come back to Smallgate.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I’d find someplace else. I’m not coming back.”
Ezak glared at him.
“If you break anything, I’ll call the guard,” Kel added.
“You’d do that?”
Kel nodded.
“You’d do that to me?”
“Yes.”
“You took a flogging for me last year!”
Kel nodded again.
“You aren’t coming back? There’s no way I can convince you?”
“No.”
For a moment, the two men stared at each other. Then Kel said, “I’ll miss you. I’ve missed you ever since you stole Dorna’s bag.”
“Well, you can go on missing me!” He turned to go.
“If you ever change your mind and want a job, I’ll try to help,” Kel called after him.
Ezak paused in the doorway. “If the spell ever breaks and you come to your senses, and you want to be free again, you know where to find me.”
“I do,” Kel agreed.
“Goodbye, Kel.”
“Goodbye, Ezak.”
Kel got to his feet and stood behind the counter, his hands on the smooth polished wood, and watched as Ezak marched across Harbor Street, and turned the corner onto Tapestry. Then he sighed, and returned to his stool.
That had been strange. All his life Ezak had been there, a tower of strength, a symbol of safety, watching over him. Ezak had been big and strong and smart, wise in the ways of the world, guarding him against all the menaces that surrounded them, teaching him what he needed to know.
But here and now, Ezak had looked like a spoiled child who had just had his favorite toy taken away. He had seemed silly and selfish, frightened and weak. It was sad. Kel knew he would never again look up to Ezak in the same way he had for so long. Even if Ezak were to suddenly turn into a respectable citizen, their relationship was changed forever.
But everything else had changed, as well. The city that had always seemed so hostile welcomed him now that he was working an honest job. He was well-fed and well-housed; he was trusted, even respected. He had lost his protector and best friend, but he had gained the world.
That was a trade worth making. If the sorcerer’s widow really had enchanted him, he hoped the spell never broke.