Cold Magics by Erik Buchanan Page B

was standing across the street from the Residence this morning.”
    “I barely noticed them,” said Thomas, looking back again. “Are you sure?”
    “They were standing in front of a shop window with a really pretty dress in it.” Eileen sounded slightly embarrassed. “I noticed them because they were in the way.”
    Thomas looked over his shoulder again. The men behind them didn’t seem in any hurry to go anywhere. Still…
    Thomas took Eileen’s hand, half-expecting her to pull away. Instead, she let him lead her off the main street. Thomas ducked into an alley and started running. Eileen kept pace. Several streets and turns later, they were in the market square. Thomas quickly led them deep into the crowd.
    “If anyone is following us, they’ll have a miserable time trying to do it here,” said Thomas.
    Eileen looked over her shoulder. “I don’t see them.”
    “Good. Now come on. Let’s get lunch. Roast chicken if we can find it, meat pie if we can’t, and a nice bottle of good wine.”
    Eileen glared at him. “I’m still mad at you.”
    “I know,” said Thomas. “But there’s no sense starving over it.”
    Thomas took a moment to buy a basket before they descended on a stall with a glowing stove and turning spits, and came away with a chicken and some potatoes. From another stall they bought a loaf of bread and some dessert pastries, and from a third a bottle of wine to wash it down. Eileen and Thomas made their way across the square, through a pair of side streets, and back to the apartment. Thomas kept an eye over his shoulder but saw no one pursuing them.
    There were three very familiar horses tied up on the rail outside Thomas’s building.
    “Oh, no,” said Eileen.
    “By the Four, they made good time,” said Thomas. Biter, his own horse that he’d left in Elmvale, recognized him and butted its head against him. He rubbed the animal’s nose, then looked at Eileen. “George and your father both, then,” said Thomas.
    “Or mother and father,” said Eileen, “and the third one for me.” Tears started down her face. “They are going to be so angry. How long do you think they’ve been here?”
    “Could have been any time since last night,” said Thomas, taking one of her trembling hands in his own. Remembering Lionel’s temper, he wasn’t feeling too steady himself. He hoped they hadn’t arrived the night previous. Explaining things was going to be difficult enough without having to explain why they hadn’t come home.
    “What do we do?” asked Eileen, her voice small and shaky.
    “What else is there to do?” said Thomas. “We go up.”
    Eileen was trembling harder, now. “He’ll kill me.”
    “He’s ridden too far to kill you,” said Thomas, making himself believe it. “He’s not going to be at all pleasant, but he won’t kill you.”
    “He will,” Eileen insisted. “He’ll be so angry.”
    “I won’t let him hurt you.” Thomas knew the words were fairly empty. Lionel was larger than George, his son, and strong from years working at the forge. If Lionel wanted Thomas out of the way, all he would have to do was push.
    Nothing for it, though. “Come on. The longer we wait, the worse it gets.”
    Thomas gripped her hand tightly and led her up the stairs. The climb to the top floor felt like a walk to the gallows. The door to his apartment was slightly open. Thomas was sure he’d locked it, but given how well the two men worked with metal, he had no doubt that either could have opened it. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to get a new door.
    “Right,” said Thomas, letting go of Eileen’s hand and putting their lunch down on the balcony. “Stay outside until I call.” Eileen nodded, pale and trembling, and stepped out of sight of the door. Thomas took a deep breath and stepped into the apartment.
    Inside, George and Lionel sat at the table, dwarfing the chairs with their bulk. Lionel looked even bigger than Thomas remembered, and both men looked rough, their