Burning Bright Read Online Free

"The only thing less closed than your pub is your mother's legs."
    Laughter came from the other side of the door and the panel closed with a thunk. A moment later, the door swung open and a large, burly man beckoned them inside. "Warmth to you," he greeted and embraced them both briefly. "Haven't seen you little sparks in a bit. What trouble you been hired to act out now, Raz? Pechal, ain't you found someone better to run around with?"
    "No one as easy to boss around," Pechal said lightly. "I smell stew—any of it left?"
    "Plenty," Misha replied. "I'll get you both some. Beer, too. What are you doing here so late?"
    Raz smiled briefly in thanks and said, "Meeting a client. Tall, quiet, spooky sort."
    "Half dozen of them, you'll have to pick out which one is yours," Misha said dryly and nodded his head toward the door that led to the front room. "Go on, then."
    "Thanks." Raz led the way down the narrow hallway and out into the main portion of the pub, skimming the dim, smoky room. There were ten occupants, three serving girls, and a large man tending the bar. He wondered what Misha was up to that he had four people working such a small crowd.
    But the first rule of the Sword & Sorcerer was:  mind your own business. He skimmed the room again, but did not see anyone who looked like the man they were supposed to be meeting. Shrugging, he found an empty table in the very back and settled down. Pechal ran off to fetch their promised food from Misha and returned a couple of minutes later with a tray.
    He sat down and set out two bowls of stew, a bowl filled with hunks of black bread, and two tankards of beer. Raz took his portion eagerly, snatching up chunks of bread to sop up broth, and washing it all down with the thin, but still appreciated, beer.
    Misha had only just brought them a second round of beer when their client showed up, a deep hood hiding his face. He was tall and thin and moved with a sinuous grace that reminded Raz of the sorts of criminals even he preferred to avoid.  The man pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning back in a way that seemed casual, but Raz knew was anything but—the bastard was a snake waiting to strike. He had a dagger strapped to one thigh, a sword at one hip, and a bull whip at the other. Raz had heard rumors about all the things he could do with that whip when he was pushed. "Was starting to wonder where you were, Sasha," Raz said.
    "Do you have it, then?" Sasha asked and held out one gloved hand.
    "Payment," Raz countered.
    Sasha chuckled and dropped his hand to pull something from within his cloak. He threw a small bag on the table, the coins inside chinking when it landed. Pechal snatched the bag up and tipped the contents out. "Payment is good."
    He tucked the coins away, and Raz withdrew the velvet bag in his own jacket, holding it out. Sasha took it and pulled out the rubi necklace, admiring it much the same way Raz had earlier. "Perfect. I was told you were the best thieves in the business."
    "None better, by the Fires I vow it," Raz replied.
    Sasha rose. "Fire warm and guide you." He was gone before Raz could reply.
    "He's as creepy as they say," Pechal commented.
    Raz shrugged. "Who cares? He pays well and isn't playing games. I wouldn't mind more jobs this easy. Finish your beer and let's go home."
    Obediently finishing his beer, Pechal rose and led the way back through the mostly empty pub, pressing coins into Misha's hand as they passed him and slipped out the way they had come.
    The cathedral bells were just chiming half past twelve when they reached the back yards of the cathedral again. Raz overtook the lead, walking right up the back of the cathedral itself, and slipping into a small courtyard that contained a long-neglected and no-longer working fountain. He suspected the rest of it had been a garden at one point, back when the cathedral had maintained its own foodstuffs, but like so much else in the Heart of Zhar Ptitsa, generally just called the Heart, that practice had