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whatever I could from him, so with a quick jerk I freed my velvet tool roll from my belt and slapped it into his hand.
    He raised a quizzical eyebrow, but said nothing and unrolled it in his lap. As he bent his head down to study the picks I got distracted by the way his hair fell past the nape of his neck, and how it shone in the glow of the fire. He raked it out of his eyes and I suddenly wanted to feel it slide through my hands. The feeling intensified when he ran his fingers past my lockpicks and took out a few to study them more closely, caressing the metal as he held them up against the firelight. His fingers were long and slender, and I could almost imagine them stroking my skin with that same reverent touch he used on my tools.
    “A decent set,” he said, waking me from my musings, “but these will break the lock. Better quality picks will simply unlock a door, and people are always willing to believe that they just forgot to lock it.”
    I shrugged. “Those are all I have.”
    “Did you have any plans for that money you stole in Mazar?”
    “Sure. Food, shelter. Shani needs new shoes.”
    His gaze went to Shani ’s feet, to the worn leather and the hole beneath her left big toe, and he nodded. “Add a new roll of lockpicks to that then. That is, unless you’re saving for something?”
    I blinked at him. “Saving for something? Like what, a house? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re half-elves. There’s not much real estate available for our kind.”
    The smile he gave me then made my heart pound and my blood run hotter. “Oh, I had noticed, Little Firelocks. One could hardly miss those delectable ear tips poking through that bright hair of yours.” Then he rolled my lockpicks up and tossed them at me, his face back into its mask. “Get some sleep, tomorrow I’ll take you out.”
     
    *   *   *   *   *
     
    We continued our travels just after noon the next day. I was bleary-eyed again, but refused to admit to myself that I had slept badly solely because of that last, casual remark he had tossed at me. Refused to think of being taken out properly – to an entertainment house, or a dance. Never mind that I couldn’t dance, and that they wouldn’t let us in anyway.
    I was distrac ted from my thoughts when Mior adjusted his pace to walk next to my sister and started talking to her. The previous day Shani and I had stuck to each other like burrs, both of us too tired to talk much even to each other, but today she looked rested and alert, and Mior seemed keen to get to know her.
    “Your sister has left her trainer, but did you have a master at all? Someone who taught you how to handle your magic?” he asked.
    Shani nodded and smiled at him. “I had a teacher for a while, yes, but I left him when Rin left Naerev.”
    “Surely not for the same reason?”
    I sniggered, thinking of Pailev – fusty, at least eighty-five and dry as old parchment. He was a human, but had been old enough not to care about what trouble he might get into for training an unslaved half-elf sorceress. We owed it to him that Shani was able to hide her abilities so well.
    Mior turned around at the sound, giving me a qui zzical smile, but it was Shani who replied. “Master Pailev lacked the… capacity to consider such a relationship with me,” she smirked.
    “Though I’m sure he had the desire to,” I felt it necessary to point out. “Lecherous old bastard.”
    “I told you before, I could handle the leering,” Shani said before turning back to Mior. “To put it plain, he was too old for that. He was a good teacher though – I learned a lot from him. But where my sister goes, so do I.” Then she cocked her head at him. “What about you? Who taught you?”
    “Oh, various people,” he said airily. “We have good connections in the underground community, and there are a number of sorcerers active in there. I’ve managed to get quite a broad education, all in all.” He followed the statement with a gesture and