Page 129 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

He flashed the incubus a smile, not slowing his pace but instead dragging Lirion along. “Lord Mire coughed up his secret safe combination. I’m going to see if he told the truth now. Come with me?”

Lirion returned the grin and raced up the stairs at Fenric’s side. It took only a minute to run down the length of the hallway to a decadent bedroom draped in luxurious furnishings, expensive fabrics, and beautiful works of art. Quite a contradiction when you considered the overall poverty of Dunley.

Fenric was mostly blind to his surroundings as he raced to the massive portrait of an idealized Lord Mire seated on a rearing white stallion, looking more heroic than the man ever was in his entire life. He ripped it off the wall and was greeted with the sight of a steel safe with a combination wheel.

His fingers trembled as he spun the dial, carefully selecting each number until a final click echoed through the silent room. He stepped back and even pushed Lirion behind him as he cautiously opened the door, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and caution. The bastard might have said there was no booby trap, but Fenric wasn’t willing to risk Lirion’s safety on that liar’s word.

A squeal split the air as the hinges whined at being used. They waited, breath held, but nothing happened.

Fenric peeked around the door into the dark opening of the safe, and his heart stopped as his eyes immediately landed on it.

Resting on a pile of jewel cases and slender gold bars was his mother’s treasure box—the retirement gift given to each and every saintess after she completed her time as voice of The Box. It was exactly as Fenric remembered it. Barely longer than his hand and half as wide, the dark cherrywood box was inlaid with pearl, gold, and gems, with the symbol of the constellation god Mineas on the top. There was a little tongue that fit over a hoop for a lock, but the gold lock had long since been destroyed and lost.

His hands shook as he lifted it from the safe and hugged it close to his chest, stumbling backward and then landing on his ass in the middle of the bedroom. Old pain warred in his chest with fresh relief, swelling his throat almost shut. It wasn’t until Lirion knelt beside him and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him against his chest, that Fenric realized tears were slipping down his cheeks.

Finally.

For too long, he’d searched, bribed, threatened, and killed for just a sliver of news about this precious box. His mother’s most prized possession and the symbol of the greatest moment in her life—the time when all the kingdom had listened to this one common woman.

When he’d been little, she’d taken the box out countless times and talked about what each gem and carving symbolized. She’d told him about how the kingdom cherished and honored each saintess. How she’d been honored to serve The Box and the people of Moorwood.

As he grew older, her talks had changed to words of warning. How it would be his job to protect this precious treasure after she died. He was never to show it to another soul, and he must guard all the secrets it held. Not that he knew of any secrets within it. As far as he knew, the interior of the box had always been empty.

But none of that mattered now. The treasure was back in his hands where it belonged, and his mother’s spirit could rest. All the years of yearning, frustration, and sorrow became an immoveable knot in the center of his chest, threatening to block his throat. More than anything, he wanted his mother back so he could at last place this treasure box back into her hands. He wanted to put all the jewelry he’d recovered into the box and give it to her, proving to her—to himself—that he hadn’t failed her.

But she was gone, and the reality was that finding the treasure didn’t mean he’d get the one thing he wanted most—to pull her back from death and erase all these years of pain.

A shudder rocked through Fenric, and as if he could withstand the tide no longer, his body bowed before the utter grief coursing through him. He cradled the box to his chest as silent sobs shook him, and he grieved. Grieved for the radiance that had been taken from the world when his mother died, for his own lost years, for the path that would never be.

And for a long while, he stayed that way.

Some time later, when the tears slowed, Fenric felt movement stirring beside him, a familiar presence.

“Fen?” a voice whispered, lips brushing a kiss to his temple.

He lifted his head, and for a moment his thoughts were disoriented. He felt so lost in swirling memories and old pains, but within that sorrow, there was the sweet smell and warm touch of Lirion right there to comfort him, to ease the pain so it wasn’t so all consuming.

Fenric sucked in a deep breath and scrubbed the tears from his cheeks with one fist. “I’m okay,” he mumbled before shoving to his feet, somewhat unsteady, then he shook himself into focus. He started for the door, but Lirion’s voice stopped him again.

“What about the rest of the contents of the safe? You don’t want it?”

He shook his head sharply, voice hoarse. “No. You can take it. Give it to your sister to start her business. Spend it on alcohol. Give it to the poor. I don’t care. This is all I want from in there.”

He walked down the hall, wanting to put this place behind him. Maybe he’d even get Malfas to set the entire manor on fire and burn it to ashes. But he hoped Lirion took everything out of the safe. He hoped they all looted the fuck out of this place, as its owner was just another greedy bastard in a long line of them.

With his mother’s treasure safely tucked away in a bag, Fenric joined in the looting, grabbing some jewelry and other expensive items that were easy to stuff in a bag. They confiscated a cart from the courtyard and loaded it up with various goods, the precious jewels and metals gleaming in the moonlight.

Fenric was readying the horses to leave when Maxie cried out, “Wait!” He jumped in front of the horses and held up his hands. “We’re just leaving?”

Rain cocked his head at the boy, his blood- and sweat-smeared face confused. “Why not? Fenric got the treasure he was looking for, and we’ve collected a fine booty for this endeavor. I say, let’s get out of here while the getting is good.”

Hapi grunted. “It’s never wise to overstay your welcome when you’re in the middle of a caper.”

“But the people! All the villagers! We can’t leave them. The finfolk still have this place flooded. They can’t grow crops or even safely escape. If we leave them, they’ll all die,” Maxie argued.

Fenric exchanged looks with Malfas, Rain, Hapi, and Belstrom as they stood around the wagon. Each of them shrugged and turned their attention back to Maxie.

“So?” Rain inquired.