A Distant Magic
Chapter 1
Valletta, Island of Malta
Autumn 1733
The two foreign gentlemen strolling through Valletta’s market square looked like they had pockets worth picking. Nikolai quietly shadowed them through the crowds, knowing they would never
notice a boy his size in the noisy throng. A dozen or more lan-
guages babbled above his head. He recognized all of them, and could make himself understood in most. Valletta was the crossroads of the Mediterranean, a place where Europe, Africa, and Asia met and exchanged their goods.
The men had the pale coloring of northern Europeans. When Nikolai got close enough to hear their conversation, he found that they spoke in English. That was one of his better languages, since his mother had had a taste for English sailors.
Other foreigners roamed the market, but these two had the air and garments of wealth—and they were fool enough to walk alone, with no guards. They’d be lucky to get back to their ship with the clothes still on their backs.
Nikolai followed the men, slipping behind a tethered donkey cart to get closer to his quarry. His talent for going unnoticed had enabled ...
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