The Thief

by Rama Nugraha

  Datan’s intuition told him this was really, really bad. He could not even gulp.

  Warily, he took out his dagger and walked towards them… he shivered. Datan was shaken at what he saw. Yuznak, one of the Red Necks, who was tall and still in his grey attire leaned against the tree, positively dead. His mouth was wide open. His neck, which was colored in red and tattooed with the number 6 under his ear, was barely in one piece. He bathed in his own blood.

  Datan’s stomach was stirred at the sight. He felt like retching. He took three steps back and decided to smell the twigs of the tree to ease his nausea before walking closer again. He stood rigidly. What happened? Datan was still in the state of disbelief. He squatted to examine the corpse. His hand which was covered in black gloved was reluctant to touch the body, though his eyes scanned it thoroughly.

  Datan found something unusual.

  Yuznak’s eyes were bugging out. They resembled a pair of ivory crystal marbles. His nose was bleeding, and the blood was black and smelt like sulfur. His dry skin was yellowish and covered in scales.

  The pouches in his belt were filled with a lot of knives made of white iron was not properly tied. None of it was used. His attire was neither wrinkly nor dirty, except because of the blood. There was no sign of resistance. There was no sweat in his face who looked at something in horror—it was like he reacted too late at something that sliced his throat.

  Yuznak the White Knife was dead in an instant.

  Datan was sure whoever is that killed him was a skillful one. Alright, now what? Should he proceed or backed off? He wondered. Could it be that the killer that Sami was hunting was right here? Is there another killer on the loose?

  Datan held his dagger tight, his eyes moved scanned every dark corner of the yard. He was getting uneasy. Regardless, he had to make sure to assess the situation better before deciding the next step. He stepped soundlessly on the grass, approaching the main building of the house. It was then the scent of blood could be smelt from all around the corner. It was revolting. Datan felt like he was suffocating, his knees wobbled. His eyes were widened in horror at the sight that greeted him.

  Datan saw another dead body. There was manslaughter in Thar Ubaga’s yard.

  The entire members of the Red Necks known for their strength were scattered around the ground, drenched in their own blood. Abasu the Silver Club; Tamta the Black Axe; Sujos the Flying Dagger; Majuka the Iron Head; Lindara the Red Karambit; including the leader Kadeki the Fire Spear.

  No one was left standing.

  Each of them was facilitated with an amulet to repel magic and high-quality weapon. But they were slaughtered mercilessly. How strong was the killer? Almost every member of the Red Necks died due to the slash wound in their neck. How could that be? Why did they look so bizarre, like they had been very sick?

  He remembered Tannu, Guma and the five kids he found on the street.

  Datan concluded that the reason why this troop had fallen, the only one left around Thar Ubaga was Joris the Wizard.

  Well then, where was that man?

  The black wristlet reacted all of sudden, stopping his train of thoughts. This time, the temperature was so cold that it almost broke his wrist. Datan got nervous. He ran, hiding in the bush as he heard creaking sound of wood being stepped on something sharp—probably nails—dragged on it. Datan peeked through the leaves, looking at the door with a golden bell approximately twenty-five meters before him.

  There was an ape with pointy ears.

  He looked magnificent. His orange fur was clearly taken care of, there were odd black stripes on it. With stretched legs, he was sitting next to the door. He moved his fingers like they were itchy, scratching the wooden floor in a tune. He played a dreadful melody for the intruder in the yard.

  Two red dots glowed in his forehead.

  Anag. Datan knew it—he—was an Anag. But as far as Datan remember an Anag that was Joris’ slave was not of the Two Dots. Then who was that? The murderer? The situation got worse.

  Out of nowhere, the Anag sang.

  Who is it, oh who is there?

  Who came escorting lives?

  Come here, O, come here. Don’t be shy and don’t hide.

  Who is it, oh who is there?

  Who came escorting lives?

  Come here, O, come here. Don’t be shy and don’t hide.

  Come on, O, Come on. Are you ready to perish?

  He stopped.

  “Hey, didn’t you hear me singing?” he asked. His voice was low but sounded really close. It was as if he whispered right next to Datan. “Come out, there’s no use hiding there.”

  Datan’s face turned blue.

  He could not think straight nor breathe right. His jaw clenched as he realizes his fate. It did not feel right to back down. His left hand wiped his shaking knees until it calmed down, then he came out of hiding. He was sure. Yes. He was ready to face the worst case scenario. He walked across the pond with a stork statue spurting some water from its open mouth, then across a flower garden where all of the flowers had withered oddly.

  The itch and ache because of the dry air hit his face and neck which was not covered by the night attire. The atmosphere was quiet and tense, just like at a funeral. Datan faced the Ape—staring at him coldly. Two Dots.

  The Ape smirked mockingly. “Another Royan, really?” he observed Datan with his eyes. “This one seemed… inexperienced, right? Or should I say, downright idiotic?”

  “Shut up,” Datan snapped—ignoring his trembling lips. He realized that this creature referred to Sami earlier. “Who are you?”

  He smirked again. “Something you don’t want to know.”

  “I thought you were a giant snake.”

  “Yeah? I’m bored with that form.”

  “That means you killed the Red Necks?”

  He shook his head. “If I did it, they would be decapitated, then I’ll suck their essence thoroughly, I’ll swallow their life force until nothing but skin and bones left,” he scoffed, showing off his fangs.

  Datan could not imagine how terrifying that was. Was he trying to scare me? Datan did not want to look scared in front of him. Both of his hand rested calmly next to his waist. Though in every breath, he was ready to pull the sword and stabbed the Qie sign in the Ape’s head. But he remembered Kanas’ message to not spend his time fighting this one.

  Neither of them talked again. Datan looked at the red symbol. Calculating his attack, hand movement and the position of the head, which swayed slightly.

  Qie was the indicator of Anag’s age. At least that was what Datan leaned. The less Qie Anag had, the older they were, the more perfect their form was and the stronger their black fire was. Two dots indicated that this one was an old one. Two dots means that this Anag had the ability to shook an entire nation.

  Once, Datan’s index finger scratch his thumb. It was a habit, a gesture he did when his idea met a dead end. Ultimately, he knew this was not a battle he could win.

  The Ape scratch the Qie in his forehead using his index finger. “And I surely…” he added, taking Datan’s attention. “…will not leave two guards in the gate.”

  His eyes showed that he was not lying.

  This was his first task and he was this misfortune. “Who, then?”

  “My master, of course,” he stretched his back then crossed his legs. “Uh, I mean, my Master’s comrade—well she is my friend as well—a really close one, in fact. She was inside. I was assigned to take care of her. Though I am sure she did not need any help. Well, this duty turned boring.”

  It was silent and tense. Datan stared at the Ape, wondering what he would do.

  “Are you afraid of me?” the Ape guessed, frowning

  There was no way Datan could answer that honestly. “Why should I?”

  “Because I can tell,” he crossed his arms before his chest, scanning through Datan’s face from every corner as he swayed his body to the left and right. “But I applaud your courage. I could feel your dangerous insan
ity. I don’t see something like that every day.”

  “Oh, thank you. Well then, why are you even here?”

  “Aside from killing? I don’t think it’s my place to tell you,” he shook his head, his yellow eyes widened. “What about you? What are you doing here?”

  “I was passing by the house and I decided to look around.”

  “Do you think I am stupid?”

  Datan grinned. “Initially.”

  The Ape growled. Thick saliva dripped from his fangs to the board, leaving a hole in it. It was like hot iron going through papers. His face was in a deep frown. He balled both of his fists, shaking in rage, holding back not to pounce at Datan and decapitate his head.

  The black wristlet froze. Datan could feel the emotion of the Ape and he told himself not to panic, even if hot sweat dripped in his back and he could not breathe. Datan looked at the opened door. He could not afford to lose more time outside. The Ape read his mind, knowing what he was about to do.

  The Ape sighed. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said seriously.

  “Will you stop me?”

  “No. Just giving you a warning.”

  “Seriously?” Datan stepped onto the first stair. The Ape truly did not stop him. “Great then, because I don’t need a warning from an ape.” He passed through the creature and entered the building.

  “Tch,” the Ape spat. “You will regret it, Kid,” he sneered.

  Chapter 21

  The Silver-eyed Lady

  Datan sheathed his dagger.

  He proceeded to make his way around the corridor made of pahatt stone, which had a fine, elegant surface with its natural bluish shade intertwined with spots of gold. It looked mesmerizing under the shower of dim light from the lantern. Nothing was heard from the inside. Currently, he should only be cautious of Joris and the killer. Luckily, Thar Ubaga’s house did not host deceptive routes and deadly traps within, just like ones in The Hanging Prison of Bavarat, which was known to keep the most dangerous criminals captive.

  Joris… Joris… Datan had studied the archives about the man thoroughly. He was an old wizard who had been suffering from Black Heart disease after his wife passed away. Ironically, the tragic death of his wife was the result of his attempt to cast a forbidden mantra.

  This incident had caused Joris Meik’s behavior to be very unruly.

  Joris enjoyed eating the bile of monkey infant and butterfly cocoon, also, he drank rattle snake’s blood. No longer did he eat tater, bread, even mushroom. Joris was attracted to young girls dressed as elderly—adding to his own peculiar way of dressing. He kept unreasonably bursting into a rage all of nowhere. Every once in a blue moon, at night, he buried himself in the ground, leaving only his head in the surface of the soil.

  This man is out of his mind.

  Datan wondered, why was a man such as Thar Ubaga willing to be guarded by someone like Joris?

  The Royan spies suspected that Joris forced Thar Ubaga to have him as his guard. Another speculated that Joris blackmailed the Thar. Regardless all of that, Datan could care less. He ought to do his job professionally. After all, Datan had found out his weakness.

  The armpit-scratching man would die if he whiffed the scent of garlic. Well, he would not be truly dead, but he would not be able to breathe properly and he would spasm. Datan had thought to muffle the old wizard with garlic he had prepared.

  Well, at least that was what he had planned.

  About the killer, though, he knew nothing. Sami, where is Sami?

  He felt a bizarre piercing cold penetrating the juul of the night attire, numbing his skin. It was like he was walking on ice. Sooner than he thought, he arrived in a glorious room lit by a dim light from crystal lanterns, half of which were off. The room was filled by faces of Fardas people, various expression colored their face. There was also a wide table surrounded by around a dozen bookshelves.

  Each furniture in the house was a gorgeous craving of a rare type of stone. Turning left through a door, Datan saw a meeting room connected to split stairs. Datan noticed that the house was exactly just how he remembered it from the files.

  Thar Ubaga was known as a confident man who relied only on the Red Necks. Datan could not help but wonder how the Thar would react when he found out that his troop had died in his own. He had yet to sense the presence of either Thar Ubaga or Joris and the killer.

  Walking in that house felt like exploring an abandoned manmade cave for giants who were too fond of chambers. It was odd because according to the files he read, there should be five other servants in the house. Where were they? Were they also slaughtered?

  Datan hastily climbed the stairs, walking towards Thar Ubaga’s room on the highest floor. As he stepped onto the second floor, his pupils widened, his hearing sharpened. His nose whiffed the scent of paint over stones in the air.

  The second floor had a room for family members to gathers. There were more rooms, all of which were just as nice as the one downstairs.

  All of sudden, his ears caught a noise. Wavering breath and fearful whispers. There was more than one person. They were inside one of the rooms where the door was shut tightly.

  The servants. Datan was sure it was them. They might also be with the children of Thar Ubaga. Then and there, Datan was hit by a wave of anxiety. His steps became heavier by the second. He began to think that the mission was a mistake after all. What would he do if he met the killer?

  Looking at the side of the window, a picture inside a blue frame caught his attention. Ah, blue. Thar Ubaga loved everything blue, everything that caught attention. Datan approached the item as he put down his hood. His eyes widened as he examined the oil painting.

  The painting was entitled ‘Victory’. It depicted the figure of the Thar. In the painting, he laughed happily whilst being surrounded by Fardas people who were eager to shake his hands.

  Datan was taken aback, his mouth dried. He knew exactly who the painter was. Never would he imagine that he would find it in the Thar’s house. In the right corner of the painting, there were three lines smeared using the tip of a thumb.

  Mother would disown me, he thought. What would she say if she found out her son stole something from her customer.

  A loud thud was heard from above. It sounded like someone fragile, old perhaps, slammed to the wall, followed by a chocked threatening hiss. Then, there was silence.

  It was Joris and the killer. Or it could be the Thar himself. Datan put his hoodie back on, taking out his dagger and dashed across the room to climb the stairs.

  I couldn’t give up here, he told himself.

  The third floor had even bigger space. The floor was covered in a tapestry made of airy blue wool. Most of the walls were mere glass, displaying the vast garden. Broken furniture was placed oddly in the room, though there was a comfortable reading space.

  Datan found a figure curled up on the floor next to Thar Ubaga’s room. He swallowed, feeling his throat tightened as his heart raced. Datan squatted down, examining what was before him closely.

  Joris Meik was clearly in shock. His face, painted in white and red straight line symbol on top of his nose, was crinkled. Her small blue eyes were unfocused. His foamy mouth made a gibberish noise. It was like he was terrified, trapped in another world. Then he shut his eyes like he was trying to hold back pain. He scratched his underarm for a bit, then he went completely unconscious.

  Datan takes out an ivory paste covered in oil paper. He unfolded the wrapping and put some in front of Joris’ mouth and nostrils, before rubbing it all over his face.

  Joris’s body spasmed. The man groaned in pain. And then, he went still.

  Oh, poor old Joris.

  Datan wished he did not have to waste his garlic paste for this.

  Another sound was heard from the inside of the wall. The sound resembled a drawer being slid, the movement was careful, nearly inaudible. It must be the killer. It seemed like he had another agenda to rummage through the Thar’s room.

  Datan wipe
d his tense face, staring at the dimly-lit room through the tiny space spared by the door. He peeked inside the room carefully. He saw a woman, whose back was facing him. She had a shoulder-length silvery hair, which was left untied.

  Datan noticed that the woman did not seem like an Urgut. She was rather small to be one. Her poster was more similar to a Haedin person. Could she be a defected Urgut? he thought.

  That woman looked really focused on the foreign item in her palm, whilst on the luxurious bed, Thar Ubaga slept and snored soundly. The Thar was wearing a pajama with a furry hat that had a drawing of a frog kissed by two females. That man was truly unaware of the chaos taking place in his own house.

  “I like this jewelry,” the woman suddenly said aloud. Her voice was sweet and airy. She then turned around, making her innocent face visible for him. She was smiling, “Especially the stone.”

  Rather than bewitched, Datan shuddered as their eyes met. In a blink of an eye, his instinct told him to be wary. Sami was right. The depth of her eyes was deeper than an endless well, dangerous and threatening.

  Datan pulled himself from the door, hiding. He leaned his back to the stone wall, feeling his heart beat fast as his knees wobbled. He could calculate the threat coming from the figure standing in Thar Ubaga’s room.

  Was that really the killer? Was she the one butchering the Red Necks? A woman? On her own? Fear began to creep upon his system at the thought.

  Be calm as unruffled water, Datan thought. He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing. That woman looked familiar. But where had he seen her before?

  “The Zu stone,” she scoffed. “They need to give it a better name.”

  “You’re fooled. It was a fake,” Datan responded from behind the wall. “Thar Ubaga collect fake jewels.”

  Silence fell. Datan did not hear any answer. The air felt heavier.

  “Hey, open your eyes.”

  Datan was startled. He turned around and his heart was about to explode. The next thing he knew the woman was in the doorway, standing next to him. Hiding his face under the hood, Datan took a leap backward instantly.