Thomlin owed her a new knife.
Shade grumpily inspected the snapped blade, running a thumb across the jagged edge. She’d spent a week to find this one, perfectly balanced and sharp as the wind. It had been a wasted effort, stealing it, apparently the merchant had been less than honest about the strength of the steel.
With a sigh, she tossed the hilt into the bushes by the low stone wall. She was far enough from the great house that no one would look for it here. Even magic would have problems sniffing it out at this distance. The blood on the other hand, dammed her. She sucked at the shallow slice that ran down the webbing between her forefinger and thumb. If any had gotten on the wall, or lock they’d find her soon enough. Damn the knife for breaking and damn Thomlin for his harebrained ideas.