A Book of Spirits and Thieves (Spirits and Thieves #1)(10)

“Very good.” Livius clasped the man’s shoulder. “However, please do feel free to tell those who are trustworthy and may require our help. It’s what we do. We help those who have nowhere else to turn.”

Maddox tried very hard not to roll his eyes.

Lord Gillis nervously wrung his hands as he followed Maddox around the room so closely that he could feel the man’s warm breath tickle the back of his neck.

He wanted to get this over with, but if he was too quick about it, the procedure wouldn’t be believable. Too long, and it would strain the patience of everyone involved.

The timing had to be just right.

“This line of work must be so dangerous for you both, though . . . ,” Gillis said after a moment.

“Dangerous?” Livius prompted.

“What the boy can do is so much more than what a witch is capable of. And even witches must protect their secrets.”

Livius’s jaw was tense. “The goddess has become rather strict of late, hasn’t she?”

Gillis laughed nervously. “Yes, I’d say that demanding the head of every accused witch in the North qualifies as rather strict. But what can we do? Defy her and face her judgment ourselves?”

“Have . . . have you ever met her?” Maddox asked, his words now tentative. “The goddess?”

Gillis turned to him. “Indeed, I have. She is as beautiful as the sunrise. She is absolute perfection in every way, and I shall worship Her Radiance every day of my life.”

“As will we all,” Livius murmured, the standard reply for such praise of the goddess.

Maddox mouthed the same response while wondering if Gillis was lying. Very few had seen the goddess in person. She allegedly preferred to remain within the grounds of her huge palace a full day’s journey west of Ravenswood on the very edge of the sea.

“Luckily for us,” Livius continued, “witches are known to be female. I’ve never heard of the goddess’s wrath accusing a male witch.”

“And yet your son is one.”

Maddox wanted to protest being referred to as a witch—as well as the constant assumption that Livius was his father—but he held his tongue.

He wasn’t a witch. Witches had the powers of the elements—earth, fire, air, water. His powers . . . well, he didn’t know what they were, other than utterly useless and unreliable most of the time.

“His gifts are very special and must be protected. That’s my job . . . to protect him.” Livius paused. “Are you ready to begin, Maddox?”

Maddox didn’t feel very special right now, or protected, but he knew what to do. He’d done it many times before. “I am. You might want to stand back, Lord Gillis. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Lord Gillis immediately took a giant leap away.

Maddox tried not to smile at the man’s dramatics as he pulled a silver box the size of his palm from his satchel. “I will trap the spirit in this box. . . .”

“With your very special power over the dead,” Gillis finished breathlessly.

“Yes.” He tried to inject confidence into the single word.

“Amazing.”

It was good that Gillis needed no further convincing—he was a believer from the start. That made everything much easier. After this, whatever creaking or knocking heard in the middle of the night that had disturbed the Gillis family enough to seek his help would be considered nothing more than what they actually were: knocks and creaks in a large house on the edge of a tall, windy cliff.

Maddox sensed no actual spirits here, only a family of rich cowards. But to admit this would be to forfeit payment.

He held the box in his hand and closed his eyes.

“Come to me, spirit of the dark. Leave these good people alone. Come to me. Come to me now.”

He waited a few moments, then tapped into the ability he knew he could easily control, which was to summon a shadow from the corner of the room, drawing it toward him in a ribbon of darkness. The shadow swirled in front of him in a dramatic display before he drew it fully into the box.

He closed the lid to trap it inside.

“It is done,” he said solemnly.

Gillis stared at him with utter amazement, which was a completely normal reaction. The trick had impressed many over the three years Maddox and Livius had been traveling together, separating many lords and nobles from their gold.

“Incredible,” Gillis said with awe.

“Your worries are now at an end,” Livius said. “The spirit has been successfully removed from your home, and we shall dispose of it so it will never trouble you again.”

Gillis clasped his hands. “Much gratitude, kind sir. To you and your incredible son.”

I’m not his son, Maddox thought darkly. I’m nothing more than a slave to him.

A slave he could use to make enough coin to pay back the moneylenders to whom Livius owed a small fortune. Livius had once been a gambler, one with very bad luck. The last time Livius hadn’t been able to make a payment, one of the moneylenders had taken his left eye as punishment.

“No gratitude necessary,” Livius replied. “Except, of course, the second half of the fee that we agreed upon.”

“Yes, of course. Of course! Please, follow me.”

Maddox turned toward the entrance to see that a girl now stood by the golden archway leading into the huge room. She gazed around, her eyes wide.