Thieves World 7 – The Dead of Winter by Asprin, Robert

splashed across the courtyard.

Behind the wicket at the Gate was a little room where litigants had waited to be

called to the Hall of Justice in the days when the Prince still pretended to

govern Sanctuary. Lalo settled onto one of its inadequately padded benches and

closed his eyes. Instinctively he reached out for that current of awareness that

linked him to Gilla, but there was nothing there. He had never realized how

essential her presence was to him.

Gilla-Gilla! his heart cried, and he did not realize that he had moaned aloud

until he felt Wedemir patting his arm.

“You have decided to come to us after all! What is wrong?”

Lalo’s eyes flew open. Randal the Mage with his clothes on was an altogether

more impressive sight than the man who had borrowed his cloak in the tavern. In

this setting, even his freckles seemed less visible.

“Something tried to get him and took my mother by mistake,” said Wedemir

accusingly. “A black globular sort of thing-it just materialized in the kitchen,

and she was gone!”

“A kind of bubble shot with flashes of blue light?” asked Randal, and Wedemir

nodded. The mage chewed his lip for a moment, then grimaced. “It sounds like

Roxane. She has a habit of kidnaping people, and right now she’s hellbent on

revenge against anyone connected with Molin Torchholder or Niko….”

Randal’s voice had softened as he spoke the mercenary’s name, and Lalo sensed

the complex of frustrated love, longing, and loyalty that explained why the mage

had handled Niko’s portrait so reverently. But Lalo could hardly worry about