The Way of Thieves

by K.N. Lee

  “So?” Uriah shrugged. “Who better to grab it than you?”

  “It was a magical pendant.”

  Uriah’s eyebrows furrowed. “Magical?”

  “The wearer of the pendant is protected from magic. Tell me, Uriah. Who needs something to protect themselves from magic … and why?”

  Uriah shrugged again. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “It doesn’t feel like nothing. And Keira agrees.”

  Uriah shook his head. He rubbed his brow as he stared at the table.

  “You know something,” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t you?”

  He saw the look in Uriah’s eyes, and it triggered a warning in his gut.

  Uriah was holding something back, and that didn’t sit well with Brendan.

  He was like a father to Brenden and Keira, though Brenden knew she didn’t respect him as much as he. In fact, ever since they’d moved out of his house, Keira hadn’t mentioned him at all, and to his knowledge, she hadn’t even attempted to visit him. He always knew his bond with Uriah was closer than Keira’s, but now the man was hiding something from him. He hadn’t kept anything from him, and a spark of anger welled up inside of him.

  “Listen, Brenden. There are a lot of things going on right now. But know this, everything that is about to happen is for the good of the Thieves Guild.”

  “So what do you suggest I do? Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” Uriah said. “Do as you’re told.”

  “Something big is about to happen, isn’t it?” Brenden asked.

  Uriah sighed. “I can’t tell you.”

  “You already have.”

  Brenden stood, pushed his chair in, clenched his jaw, and strode to the door. He touched the handle, then turned around to look at his friend. The man he’d thought of as a father.

  “I thought I could trust you—but you know more than you let on—and you don’t trust me to know.”

  Brenden stepped outside, slamming the door. He took a deep breath and leaned against Uriah’s home. Something pounded from the inside, like a fist against the table. Brenden gritted his teeth, then stormed off.

  11

  Keira hid in the shadows of moonlight, grasping a single piece of paper in her hand. A new day. A new mission. She tilted the piece of paper to see in the moonlight.

  Andraen, Earl of Areshia.

  Emeralds.

  Below the words was an intricate drawing of the appearance of the emeralds, and the suspected box they were hidden inside of. It was all the information Keira had. It was all she needed.

  Keira was known for her intuition. She could find almost anything with very little information. It was an innate ability. When she focused her mind on something, especially if she knew what she was looking for, she would stumble upon it. It reminded her of the game ‘Hot and Cold’ she played as a child. Whenever searching for something, Uriah would play ‘Hot and Cold’ with Brenden and her.

  Whenever she was close, he’d say, “hot”, but whenever they were far from the object, he’d say, “cold”. And if they were approaching the hidden object, he’d tell them they were getting warm. Ever since then, Keira realized if she focused on finding something, her mind would tell her if she was hot or cold. Her body would grow warmer, then hot as she approached anything she was searching for. All she had to do was trust her body, trust her mind.

  Areshia was a large city, and the only city on the Areshia Lake. It was much larger than Forscythe, though, most cities were larger than the capital of the Thieves Guild, but it still was much smaller than Cappria, the Nobles Guild’s capital, and where her and Brenden stole the magical amulet.

  Keira watched as the guards walked by. Then she sprang. Taking a partial swallow of the dragon scale elixir for strength, she slammed her small hammer into the back of the head of each guard. She didn’t want to kill them. After all, she wasn’t an assassin. All she needed was them to sleep for a while. It wouldn’t take her long to locate the gems. Her chest was already growing warmer.

  She slipped through the alley, and toward the rear entrance of the Earl’s Manor. The back didn’t have as many guards as the front, but it was still guarded. She noticed three more guards blocking the entrance.

  Grabbing the elixir from her pouch, she drank the rest of the vial and concentrated. Her skin became transparent and tingled with chill bumps. She would need to act fast, the invisibility wouldn’t last long, and using the dragon elixir would drain her energy. She would need to rest soon.

  Keira stepped behind the guards, grabbed a stone from her sash, and tossed it into the alley. The guards twitched, then unsheathed their weapons and ran toward the noise.

  Keira smiled. The door was clear. She reached for the handle, but found it locked. Keira muttered a curse under her breath. She withdrew her lock picks and began picking the door. The guards muttered and curse in the distance. They were returning. Sweat beaded down her invisible forehead. She needed to hurry. The door finally clicked, and she slipped inside, closing the door gently as she entered. Her lock pick fell to the ground outside the door. She clenched her fist, her eyes widening. The guards had returned. She couldn’t retrieve the small lock pick. Keira closed the door carefully, and prayed they wouldn’t notice the lock pick for a while.

  She rushed through the dark hallways. It was late, and most of the manor would be asleep. But Keira needed to be careful not to wake anyone. She was the quietest thief, even more silent than Brenden. Her body began to tingle with warmth. She was getting close.

  Keira turned the corner and nearly ran into someone. She jumped back in surprise, as he had been walking just as silent as her. Her eyes widened as she recognized the man. Benedict. This was the man who’d danced with her in Cappria. He’d said he was the earl’s son. She adjusted her expression and smiled at him.

  “Keira?” he asked.

  She was surprised he remembered her name, and now she regretted telling him her real name, instead of the fib she’d told the duke.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Keira scrunched her lips as she sashayed toward him. “I was looking for you.”

  His jaw dropped. “Me? How did you know I would be here?”

  “Well, you did say your father was the earl. Where else would you be?”

  “How did you get in here? Did the guards see you?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want too many people knowing I visited your chambers,” she whispered into his ear as she pressed her body against his.

  “I—I—” Benedict stuttered, and backed away.

  “What’s wrong, Benedict? Don’t you want me?” Keira purred.

  “Of course I do. I—my fiancé—”

  “Will never know.” Keira squeezed his hand. “Take me to your room.” She bit her lip. “Please?”

  Benedict swallowed, audibly, then scanned the hallways, before dragging her through the hall and to a private chamber. He ushered her inside as he looked down the halls again and stepped inside.

  Keira looked around the massive room. Scarlet drapes covered a window, and a giant red comforter was neatly fitted on the large bed. And the most interesting thing was the fact that the heat inside of her pulsed furiously. The box of gems she was searching for was not in the earl’s room. It was in his son’s. She bit her lip as a smile came to her face. This was going to be easier than she thought. She sat on the bed and faced Benedict.

  Benedict stared at her. “I don’t know if this is such a great idea.”

  Keira lay on the bed spread eagle, biting her lip, and clawing her finger toward herself. “Trust me. It is an excellent idea.”

  He came toward her slow at first, but when he was close enough, she reached out and pulled him to her. Her lips pressed hard against his. He resisted at first, but Keira put more energy into it, and soon, his guard slipped, and he let her drag him on top of her.

  12

  Daimen watched his young apprentice.

  The boy, age twelve, was in his fifth year in t
he academy. He showed promise, but he had many years to go before he could fully control his power. A small, yet detailed water elemental balanced on the child’s open palm. The elemental wasn’t anything special. It looked like a large standing wave, its head was where the wave caved back in on itself, and two little arms stuck out at its side.

  “Good,” Daimen said. “Now use the elemental to attack for you. Remember, it is alive, as are all elements, and you must treat them with respect. Our magic isn’t something that comes from us. The only difference between us and people who cannot use magic, is we have the innate ability to sense the living elemental spirits all around us. This is what creates balance. If we don’t respect them, they will not respect us.”

  The little elemental turned to face Daimen. A smile came across its watery face by an opening forming in the shape of a grin at the tip of its head. Its two arms flexed backward, then slammed together it front of itself in a large clap. A ball of compacted water the size of a hand-sized rock flew toward Daimen.

  Daimen grinned. He called his own water spirit, and a massive water elemental formed next to him. This one, however, was taller than even himself. It intercepted the water ball and threw it back at the little elemental. When it collided with the small elemental, the small water sprite dissipated into nothingness.

  The apprentice frowned.

  “Do not despair, Edmond. Remember, elemental spirits never truly die. He will be able to reform in a day.”

  “Why is your elemental so much larger than mine?” Edmond asked.

  “You’re still young. Right now, you can only communicate with elemental spirits of a similar age. And most importantly, they’re the only ones who will communicate with you. Larger spirits don’t want to be with an apprentice. They’d rather be with a more experienced sorcerer. They feel safer. The little spirits want as much practice as they can get, so they can become big and strong like the larger spirits.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Daimen grinned. “You’ll get there one day, Edmond. I promise. You’re progressing well.”

  Edmond bowed. “Thank you, master.”

  Daimen was proud of his apprentice. He’d had dozens of apprentices over the years, and all of them graduated to be powerful sorcerers or sorceress, and he’d been proud of every one of them. Well, almost every one of them. There’d been one sorceress who’d gone astray, but he shook his head, ridding his mind of the foul woman. Edmond exceeded all of his apprentices in talent, and most of all, kindness. He didn’t crave power like some, and he always wanted to help others. Daimen knew after a few more years, Edmond would be ready to pass the trials for himself and begin his journey at become a master sorcerer.

  Rapid knocks at the door startled the two of them.

  “Come in,” Daimen called.

  A young blond squire approached them, then bowed.

  “Yes?” Daimen asked.

  “Master Nadar requested your presence. Urgently.”

  “All right. Edmond, we will continue our studies later.”

  “Yes, master.”

  The squire, dressed in loose brown leather armor, nodded, then rushed to the door with Daimen right behind him. They wound through the halls until reaching Master Nadar’s room. Daimen took a deep breath before opening the door. Only one other sorcerer sat inside the office besides the master. It was Shronan, a skillful sorcerer with green robes, and someone who had helped them through many trials. Nadar stood behind the desk.

  “What is the urgency?” Daimen asked.

  “As you know, our relationship with the nobles has been on thin spider webs the past several years. Really, ever since we lost the protection spell we were designing for them. Our treaty with them dictates protection in exchange for position. Well, I believe the spider webs are near their breaking point. And without them, we will lose access to many more developing sorcerers who will need training.”

  “What happened?” Daimen asked.

  “The duke, Favian, had a protection pendant. It was given to his wife, well, her mother actually, but it was passed down to her. The day Favian had the pendant cleaned for her, she died mysteriously. They found no cause of death.”

  “Interesting,” Daimen said.

  “When was this?” Shronan asked.

  “A few months ago.”

  Daimen scratched his chin. “It could be a coincidence.”

  Nadar shook his head. “No. It was most certainly not. Favian came to me earlier today. That same pendant, which he kept on his person in memory of his wife … was stolen the other night.”

  “Stolen?” Daimen asked.

  Master nodded.

  “What exactly does this pendant do?” Shronan asked.

  “It protects the wearer of bodily harm: including both physical damage and magical attack.”

  Daimen frowned. “That’s impossible. There’s always a cost to magic. There isn’t even a spell that can do that. I mean, sure, spell protection, and I know of a few that prevent physical harm by creating a wind current to push the attack away, but I’ve never heard of a pendant doing both. Usually the two contradict each other.”

  Nadar bit his lip. “The way it works is, it completely repels spells, but with physical harm … it drains energy from the wearer over time. The injury still affects them, but instead of a concentrated injury over a few seconds, it spreads over days or weeks, depending on the severity of the injury. You are right that a physical protection wind charm has never been successfully mixed with a spell protection. And unlike such spell protection or physical harm protection pendents, this pendant doesn’t have a cool down. It works indefinitely since it uses the health of the wearer over a long period of time to settle the balance.”

  Shronan tapped his lips with his index finger. “What if the pendant is taken off before the full recovery time?”

  Nadar raised his brows. “We’re getting a bit off topic here, but then whatever injury befell them, would rush to them over a period of minutes, draining a lot of energy from the wearer.”

  “How many of these pendants exist?” Daimen asked.

  “Ah, now that’s the real question,” Nadar said. “There are only eight in existence that I know of, but one was destroyed in the fire we had in this castle over ten years ago. The ability to make them resided with only one sorcerer, and he is long dead. So, there shouldn’t be any more lingering around.”

  “Who has them?” Daimen asked.

  “They were given to the highest noble families to pass to their descendants from generation to generation. This was the start of our treaty with the nobles. It was our offer of protection until we could find a better way. Well, you can see the implications here …”

  “If someone has learned about these pendants … and who has them …” Shronan whispered.

  Nadar nodded. “It seems possible that this is the case. However, if these pendants are being sought out, it means that whoever is doing so, knows they are our connection with the nobles.”

  “They’re trying to start a war,” Daimen said.

  “If all five are removed from the nobles, they’re given no protection. Then what’s to stop someone from attacking them? And if the nobles begin to fall … and if we can’t protect them any longer, they will forfeit our treaty, and come after us.”

  “They wouldn’t be foolish enough to attack us, would they?” Daimen asked.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” Nadar asked. “Their armies outnumber us ten to one. That’s the entire reason we made a treaty in the beginning. We didn’t want the people to fear magic—to fear sorcerers. If everyone is against us, then we will be running for our lives.”

  Daimen tensed. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “I trust you two the most with this. That’s why I asked for you to come. We need to protect the remaining four nobles’ pendants.”

  “Remaining four? I thought you said there were eight?”

  “One destroyed, so seven, but three of those have already disappeared in the last year.” />
  “How?” Daimen asked. “We are but two sorcerers. You said there are four nobles.”

  “Two are the king and queen, and I’ve already sent word to them to increase their security and not to remove their pendants. And, I’m going to shadow them myself.”

  Daimen nodded. “Where do you need us to go?”

  13

  A knock at the door startled Brenden.

  He wondered if Keira was back from her mission. He stood, brushed his shirt, then stepped over to the door. When he opened it, he saw a young boy on the other side. The boy wore dark brown breeches that were too long, and a shirt two sizes too big. He was the youngest thief in Forscythe and served as the city’s squire.

  “Good morning, sir Brenden.”

  Brenden smiled. “Good morning to you.”

  “Mistress Mirabelle wishes to see you.”

  Brenden raised a brow. “Another mission?”

  “I don’t know sir,” the boy admitted.

  Brenden fished a silver coin from his pocket and flicked it in the air. The boy caught it eagerly.

  “Thank you,” Brenden said.

  “Thank you,” the boy said in a chipper voice.

  The coin disappeared from the boy’s hand so fast, Brenden could hardly see it. Then the boy ran down the street.

  Brenden put on a shirt then made his way to the keep. When he arrived, he saw all the other thieves carefully watching his steps. He knew he was one of the most skilled thieves in the city, especially for his age, but some of the other thieves began to look at him with uneasiness.

  He shrugged it off as he continued to Mirabelle’s office. Knocking twice, he took a deep breath. Being around Mirabelle always made him nervous. She was a fine leader, and a fine woman to look at, but something about her made him uneasy. He never felt she cared about it.

  It was always about the mission, and how well he would do at it. She treated him as lesser, or expendable, though, she always showed appreciation at his skill. Mirabelle acted like she cared, but Brenden could see through the veil. Perhaps he always imagined it, but something inside of him told him he was right.