From the cutting room floor

Every book has them -- the scenes or chapters that for one reason or another just don't make it into the final book. Magic Lost, Trouble Found had a lot. I had entire subplots and characters that never saw the light of day -- just too much to fit into one book. That said, I thought I'd occasionally share some of those outtakes or "words from the cutting room floor" with you. This scene came from the end of Chapter 5, when Raine is leaving Tarsilia's to go back to Nigel Nicabar's townhouse. But first she makes a stop by her office (not in the final version). There's mention of a character that also didn't make the final cut -- Karlerius Cradok, the self-proclaimed crime lord of Mermeia. I hope you enjoy it.

I walked across and then down the street, giving anyone watching ample opportunity to see that I was leaving -- with luggage. I had an office upstairs above a magical instruments shop. The proprietor rented out space to a few who, like me, found it prudent not to do business where they lived. Crystal balls, scrying mirrors and other favorites of the mediocre were displayed in the front window. She kept the quality stuff in the back, available only to a few select clients she deemed capable of wielding them. Too many deaths were bad for business.

I stopped in Willa's shop and dropped off my pack. I didn't want to lug it around the city with me. If I needed to either run from or fight something, it'd just be in the way. Willa would see to it that it got to the safehouse. She knew where it was. Unfortunately, it was a drill we'd gone through more than once.

I went upstairs to my office and paused at the end of the short hallway. My office door was open, and I heard voices coming from inside. I recognized one of them by name. The other two voices were deeper and belonged to the muscle that made the first voice feel important.

Ocnus Rancil had made himself at home behind my desk, his grubby fingers pawing their way through my client records. Things were looking up. I was angry, I wanted someone to take it out on, and here was Ocnus.

I loosened my swords in their scabbards, and slid my shirt cuffs back slightly, clearing the way for the throwing knives strapped to my forearms. I stepped around the corner and leaned casually against the doorframe.

"Morning, Ocnus."

He yelped and the handful of papers he held flew into the air. I hated the thought of sorting and refilling it all, but the look on Ocnus's pudgy face was worth it.

"I understand you came to see me earlier," I said. "You could've just made an appointment. It'd have been easier."

The muscle silently arranged themselves against the opposite walls. I walked to the middle of the office between them, my hands loose by my sides, ready to move. I didn't intend to be violent, just prepared.

"If you're looking for something, I'm good at helping people find things -- but only if it belongs to them to begin with."

"It does belong to me," Ocnus said, "and it's none of your business, seeker."

He sneered the last word as if it were a bad thing. I debated whether I should take it personally. I decided to wait. I could always be offended later. With Ocnus there were ample opportunities. Right now I wanted to know what he was after. Then I could throw him out.

"You're in my office, so it is my business."

Ocnus ignored the papers on the floor. "I'm here to see Quentin Rand. Where is he?"

"I have no idea." The Flatus could be moored anywhere in Mermeia's miles of twisting waterways. I smiled, knowing it would only annoy Ocnus. "But if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."

He folded his meaty hands on my desk. "And why not?"

"Because you're not being honest with me."

He looked confused. I wasn't surprised. Honesty couldn't have been a familiar concept for him.

A thought occurred to me. Considering my lack of sleep, that did surprise me. Ocnus was looking through papers and wanted to see Quentin. Our escapade last night was caused by a letter. A letter whose contents blackmailed Quentin into breaking into Nigel's. Ocnus worked for Karl. A connection? Possibly. Only one way to find out.

"By the way, those are client records," I told him. "My client records. Quentin's not the paperwork type. Now if you're looking for Quentin's personal records, receipts, correspondence, a letter perhaps. . ."

Ocnus leaned forward eagerly, then caught himself and sat back, a sly look in his small eyes. I hope he didn't fancy himself a card player. If he did, I needed to introduce him to Phaelan.

I winked at him. "I told you I was good."

I didn't think I was making a dangerous gamble. As far as violence was concerned, magical or otherwise, Ocnus wasn't really worthy of consideration. His muscle-bound bookends didn't rate much higher. They were good at one thing -- being big. To their credit, they did it very well. But speed, either of thought or action, wasn't a burden either one carried.

Ocnus squirmed, settling his bulk more comfortably in the chair. My chair. A chair I would be cleaning within an inch of its life as soon as Ocnus's ample posterior left it. "I've been authorized to make you an offer, Mistress Benares."

My back stiffened. I had a good idea what was coming. "I'm listening."

"My employer, Magus Karlerius Cradok, wants to retain your services to find something for him. Something rightfully his that was stolen from him last night by Quentin Rand. He thinks you know where it is. Magus Cradok is willing to pay ten times your normal fee if he has the item by sundown."

I stared at him for a good, long time before responding. "And if I can't help him -- or just won't?"

"Then Magus Cradok would be forced to offer additional incentives to secure your cooperation. Unfortunate and regrettable incentives." Ocnus's fleshy lips spread in his idea of a smile. "You wouldn't like them, Mistress Benares, and neither would your adoptive family across the street."

I crossed to my desk in two strides. I felt rather than heard the bodyguard to my left move towards me. I ignored him. He'd have to get in line. I put my hands flat on my desk and leaned over it until my face was inches from Ocnus's own. My hands were open, but hardly empty. The knives were insurance against interruption. I had something else in mind for Ocnus.

"Call them off," I said through clenched teeth.

He looked at my knives and his head jerked in a nod. I felt the looming presence retreat.

I wasn't counting on knives or threats to get the results I wanted. I knew a curse. Generally I stayed away from curses. They had a tendency to backfire, aside from being just plain mean. I had made an exception for this little beauty. I had used it only once, and it had been more than effective. Ocnus had been on the receiving end that time, too. It was repugnant, even by his standards. I had put a three-day time limit on it -- fire fleas reproduced after four days. I'm not completely without compassion, even when it came to Ocnus.

I don't think he wanted a repeat infestation.

I smiled sweetly. "Still itching, Ocnus?"

The sorcerer's pig-like eyes widened to almost normal proportions. It's always nice to have one's work remembered and appreciated.

"Tell Karl that if he or any of his people, including you, so much as think an unhappy thought in the Rivalins' direction, I will hunt them down and make what happened to you before feel like a trip to a Rina spa." I leaned forward. "And guess what, Ocnus?"

His bottom lip quivered. "What?"

"This time I won't put a time-limit on it."

As I leaned towards him, Ocnus leaned back. My desk chair creaked ominously under his weight.

I smiled and it was genuine. "And you might not want to do that either."

The chair flipped back, Ocnus squealed, his legs flew up, and both landed on the floor.

I'd been meaning to fix that chair. Really.

Thug number one hurried to help his boss off the floor. Thug number two thought about drawing his sword. He thought too long. Mine was already out and leveled at his throat.

"Get out." I didn't take my eyes or my blade off the man, though my words were for Ocnus. "If you keep annoying me, or anyone I know, you won't have to come looking for me again, I'll find you."

Ocnus's hands shook as he straightened his robes. He was scared, but he was also angry. That made two of us.

"I will tell the Magus that you refused his offer," Ocnus said. "He will be disappointed."

"He'll get over it."

Ocnus managed to look scared and smug at the same time. Then he smiled and smug won out. "No, he won't."

They left, shutting the door behind them.

I blew my breath out and put away my blades. I hadn't even had coffee yet.