Page 7 of Embrace the Serpent
Grimney put the plate before me, and a small pile of rocks before himself.
I was still in my livery. “I’ll change and be down in a second.”
I left the kitchen and trod down the hallway, past the door to Galen’s workroom, but instead of taking the stairs, something made me pause at the last door, the frosted glass one that led to the showroom. A shiver went down my spine, a prickle of unease.
A flicker of movement—there it was. Someone was in the showroom.
It should’ve been impossible—the front door had a triple lock, and besides, the workshop guards knew not to let anyone past the gate when Galen was out.
A gravelly tread came from the kitchen, and I motioned for Grimney to stay back.
I cracked the door open.
A tall man strode from one display to the next. His back was to me, his dark hair falling in soft waves to his shoulders. The showroom was lit only by the frail light filtering in from outside, but even in the dimness, he glimmered. If a peacock had taken on human form, it would have showed more restraint in clothing than this fellow. He was draped in layers of jewel-toned fabric, fine golden embroidery catching the light at his collar and cuffs; even his shoes were of expensive silk textured to look like scales. The curious thing was that he wore no jewels.
He turned, bending in half to peer at another one of the threepieces in the showroom. Not our most expensive, nor ones that displayed our unique inventions, but ones that I quite liked. He smiled down at a pair of pink tourmaline earrings. “Beautiful.”
He had a slender face, with kind dark eyes that sparkled with humor. A nice, trustworthy face. All the best thieves have them.
“Rather lovely pieces,” he said loudly, and turned to face me.
I yelped. “I—I’m armed.” Grimney’s footfalls sounded as he came up behind me.
“Good for you,” he said.
My face heated as I slid the door fully open. “You broke in.”
“I’ve let myself in, it’s quite true, but I have no nefarious intentions.” He paused. “As I’m sure you saw.”
“I wasn’t watching you,” I said too quickly.
A crooked grin split his face. “No? That’s too bad. If you had been, you would’ve seen me admiring Master Galen’s work. They are beautiful and quite clever.”
I shrugged and nodded at the same time. There was something about his grin.... “You’re the fellow who was following Galen,” I said.
“And you’re the little mouse who was also following Master Galen.”
I gestured at my livery. “That’s my job.”
“How funny,” he said. “That’s what I was about to say.”
He was utterly unruffled. I had the feeling I was on the back foot without knowing how or why. My heartbeat quickened like my body was preparing to run.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“My name is Rane.”
Rane? I knew that name. A rich man who had showed up a month ago and promptly proceeded to commission every jewelsmith on Gem Lane. Save Galen and Master Vyalis. Galen had gnashed his teeth at the stories, watching Rane’s flashy black carriage streak down the street and moaning, “My reputation!”
I didn’t care about Galen’s reputation. But it had irked that Rane found every hack jewelsmith worth commissioning—even Master Roodrick, who thought that heart-shaped jewelry was the height of taste—but had found my work lacking.
“I see,” I said.
“You seem disappointed at the thought of my spending a small fortune in your store.”
“Master Galen will be very pleased,” I said. And then pride made me ask, “Will you be visiting Master Vyalis, too?”
His brow arched. “Perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t.”
