“With some planning, yes.” Briar looked around the campfire at the band of thieves, then her gaze flitted to the tunnel through the thicket, as if she were still thinking about running away. “But if I agree to help you, I’ll get a price on my head for my troubles.”
“Only if you’re seen and somehow recognized. I don’t expect that to be an issue, do you?”
Briar touched a lock of her frizzy hair. “Of course not.”
Had that been hesitation, a note of falseness? Archer couldn’t be certain. Lord Larke’s retainers were unlikely to recognize her, especially if Jemma and Archer himself didn’t know her. They were acquainted with most of the lawbreakers in Larke and Barden counties, even though they’d spent most of the past year farther afield. She couldn’t be that notorious. So who was she worried about?
“We shouldn’t discuss any more details until she gives us a straight answer,” Esteban muttered. “Are you in or not?”
Briar cast a swift look at the old mage then focused on Archer. She had turned him down flat before, but this time she might actually need the coin. It wouldn’t be cheap to restart her business after what had happened back at the cottage. Still, he held his breath. They needed her too.
“I’ll do it,” Briar said, “but I have a few conditions. First, after this job, I will take my money and go. I am not joining your merry band, and I’m no thief.”
Archer released a sigh. “Fair enough.” Rescue missions were outside the job descriptions of most thieves anyway, but then, Archer and the others were not most thieves.
“I’ll need a few things for my curses,” Briar went on. “New paints and brushes, for starters. I lost all of mine when …” She trailed off, looking into the fire, twin flames dancing in her eyes. She blinked them away. “Do you have money, or will we need to steal them?”
“I’ve never lifted paints before,” Nat said, cracking his stubby fingers. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“Those we can buy,” Archer said. “Discretion is essential from here on out. We have enough coin to purchase whatever you require to get the job done.”
“I need a rare shade of purple,” Briar said. “It’s made from crushed marine snails, and only one supplier has the right kind in this county. He keeps a shop in the Mud Market.”
Lew combed his red beard thoughtfully. “That’s a little out of our way.”
“The curse won’t work without it,” Briar said. “It’s the only paint that will unravel another’s magic.”
“We can work in a detour,” Archer said. “Anything else?”
“I don’t want to kill anyone.”
Jemma and Lew exchanged quick glances, and Esteban muttered something under his breath. They’d run enough jobs to know casualties weren’t always something they could control. They all looked at Archer.
“We’re thieves, not murderers,” he said. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do everything in my power to see that you don’t have to kill anyone, providing it doesn’t endanger the mission.” He met her gaze across the fire, his voice going cold. “But all bets are off if you allow any of my team to be hurt out of some misguided attempt to be principled.”
“Understood,” Briar said. “I will not hesitate, if it comes to that.”
“See that you don’t.”
They stared at each other for a beat longer, and Archer remembered the teacup exploding in his hands. The girl was powerful, and he would have to be careful of her in the days to come.
They couldn’t afford to fail. Lady Mae’s safety was too important. No matter what they said about the reward—and the bonus—the real stakes were much higher. Only Archer among them knew how vital it was that they succeed.
The deal made, they finished their stew and set about cleaning up the campsite and settling the animals for the night. The weather had cooled considerably since the sun had gone down, hinting that the end of summer was drawing near. They retrieved extra blankets from their cache of supplies—a half-buried trunk they replenished whenever they were in the area—and rearranged their bedrolls so everyone could sleep with their feet to the fire.
Briar accepted a bundle of blankets from Nat with a polite nod and lay down at the farthest edge of the clearing, her back to the brambles and her face to the team. Her eyes remained open, her wariness visible from ten feet away.
I guess I’d be nervous around a fearsome band like ours too. Archer deliberately ignored Lew, who was scratching a poem on the notebook he kept in his vest pocket. Esteban had scuttled over to the far side of the clearing to pick blackberries for dessert.
When Nat and Esteban got into a rousing argument over who had the first watch, Archer took the opportunity to pull Jemma aside.
“What do you think of the curse painter?”
“She’s hiding something.”
Archer laughed. “Aren’t we all?”
“Some more successfully than others.” Jemma folded her red shawl tighter around her body and peered up at him. She was a head shorter than Archer, but she could still make him feel like a scruffy kid with more energy than sense. “Be careful with her. I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just don’t let a pair of pretty eyes distract you,” Jemma said. “That girl is dangerous.”
“I know she is.” Archer chose to ignore the part about Briar’s eyes. He supposed they were rather pretty. “She hurled me out of her house in a chair and nearly embedded a teacup in my face.”
Jemma’s mouth tightened. “I’m more worried about the killing.”
“The fact that she doesn’t want to? I reckon that’s good. Larke’s men don’t deserve to pay the price for their lord’s actions.”
“It’s not that she doesn’t want to kill,” Jemma said. “It’s that she has done it before and knows how it feels.”
Archer blinked. “How could you possibly know that?”
“It’s in those pretty eyes of hers,” Jemma said. “You’ll see it, too, before this is done.”
Archer shifted uncomfortably, scraping his boots in the dirt.
“The important thing is that we get Mae back,” he said. “Whatever this girl is hiding has nothing to do with us. She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. With her abilities, the mission will succeed for sure.”
“And that’s why you’re the boss.” Jemma reached up to give him a motherly pat on the cheek. “Someone needs to believe we have a chance.”
Chapter 5
Briar awoke to a large pink tongue licking her face. She yelped and scrambled back. The huge dog followed, anointing her with slobbery kisses and trampling her blankets with his massive paws.
“Go away,” she mumbled.
Instead of obeying, the dog turned in a complete circle and planted himself in her lap like an overgrown kitten. He gazed up at her with a plaintive expression. Strings of saliva dripped onto her shirt. Her legs began to go numb from his weight.