The City of Thieves

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  Azura’s expression softened. “Finally—someone asking the right questions. The thing that sits on the throne isn’t King Lucien, but a changeling impersonating the king.”

  “A changeling?” Berengar didn’t try hiding his skepticism. Although he had heard the cautionary tales about fairies kidnapping children and replacing them with changelings from the time he was a boy, it seemed highly improbable they could have taken the king. Then again, until recently, he had believed fairies were extinct throughout the land of Fál.

  “It makes sense,” Morwen said. “It would explain the sudden change in the king’s behavior. When we first set foot in the throne room, I sensed magic coming from the throne. At the time I thought it was fairy dust, when it must have been the changeling I sensed. But if the Lucien we saw was an imposter, what happened to the true king?”

  Azura nodded to Teelah. “Ask her. You heard what she told the druid. She knows where they’re keeping him.”

  “Where who is keeping him?” Berengar asked Azura when Teelah refused to elaborate. “You still haven’t said who’s behind all this.”

  “I’d have thought it rather obvious. Who controls the pretender to the throne?”

  The answer came to him at once. “Valmont.”

  “The man you know as Father Valmont is not as he appears. The magic Morwen sensed came from him.”

  “You said you weren’t the only fairy in Dún Aulin,” Morwen said. “Valmont is the other, isn’t he?”

  “Aye. His true name is Völundr. He murdered his predecessor to gain influence at court so he could replace the king with a changeling.”

  “To what end?” Berengar asked.

  “Völundr is one of the Unseelie—a dark fairy. Years ago, he fell in love with one of the fairy king Annwyn’s daughters, Princess Aurora. King Annwyn forbade them from marrying, so the two arranged to run away together. Before she could meet Völundr, Aurora was ambushed by goblins. She escaped the Otherworld and fled here, where she encountered a group of men who took her for a monster. They cut out her tongue to prevent her from using her voice and tortured her to the point of death. When Völundr found her, it was already too late.

  “King Annwyn blamed Völundr for his daughter’s death and exiled him. Fueled by his thirst for vengeance, Völundr made a pact with the dark forces for power. He believes all other races are inferior species and seeks dominion over all life. He hopes to reunite the two halves of the cursed blade to accomplish this foul purpose.”

  Morwen watched Azura with interest. “How are you involved in all this?”

  “After the Shadow Wars, King Annwyn and your High Queen signed an armistice sealed in blood that forbids the king and his subjects from intervening in human affairs. Annwyn, who has no love for humanity, knew the treaty would not apply to the fairies like Völundr not under his rule. I refused to sit and watch while Völundr attempted to conquer and enslave mankind, and for that I was stripped of my wand and cast out. I followed Völundr to Dún Aulin, assumed the identity of a thief, and have worked to thwart his aims ever since.”

  Morwen stared at her, confused. “You’ve seen how most of the people here regard magic and nonhumans. Why give up everything to help those who hate you?”

  Azura gave a sad smile. “’Tis a long story—one best saved for another time. Our captors draw near.”

  The door opened, and guards with torches swept inside the chamber. The guards remained stationary along the walls as three monster hunters followed them into the tower cell.

  “Winslow,” Berengar muttered.

  The Acolytes’ leader carried Berengar’s axe. “A weapon of legend. You used it to gut my son, did you not? I think I’ll enjoy taking your head with it.” He nodded to his subordinates. “Hold him steady.”

  The monster hunters seized him and jerked on his hair to pull his head back. Berengar stared into his enemy’s eyes, issuing an implicit challenge. “These chains aren’t enough for you?”

  Winslow struck him across the face with a gauntleted fist.

  Berengar laughed and spit out a tooth that landed at his enemy’s feet. “I hardly felt that. Surely you can do better than that.”

  “I’ve spent years thinking of how best to break you. Go on—resist. It will make your final moments all the sweeter.” Winslow hit him again, this time in the abdomen with the axe’s handle.

  Berengar continued to laugh, even as his eyes stung from the pain. “That all you got? Even your son put up more of a fight.”

  The monster hunters glanced at each other with unease, but Winslow continued the beating undeterred. Just before Berengar lost consciousness, his tormentor stopped to wipe the blood from his sleeve.

  “You’re tough, I’ll give you that. The High Queen’s Monster. A man with no love for anything or anyone. But that’s not exactly true, is it?”

  Berengar followed his gaze to Morwen.

  “I know that look. Only a parent can understand it. I always thought you cared for nothing. How do you hurt a man like that? Then I saw the way you looked at her.” Winslow took out a dagger and traced the point along the side of Berengar’s face, stopping just beneath his eye. “I considered taking your remaining eye, but I want you to see what we’re going to do to her.”

  Berengar let out a primal scream, broke free of the monster hunters’ hold, and drove his forehead into Winslow’s face.

  Winslow held a hand to his bloodied, broken nose. “Have you ever witnessed a witch burning? It’s a thing of great beauty.” He walked over to Morwen and cupped her chin in his hands. “Such a pretty face. I wonder what it will look like turned to ash.”

  Berengar’s blood boiled with uncontrollable fury. “Lay one hand on her, and I’ll take you apart piece by piece.” He threw himself at Winslow, but the chains pulled him back.

  “I was never a pious man in my youth. I was a soldier, like you. It took me years to find the Lord’s will. My son was different. He was special. I would have done anything to protect him. When you took him from me, I felt helpless for the first time in my life. Do you know what that feels like?” Winslow turned back to Berengar. “You will. I promise you that.”

  Morwen bit Winslow’s ungloved hand, and he slapped her across the face with his gauntlet.

  “You bastard!” Berengar strained against the chains. “I’ll kill all of you!”

  “Enough.” Valmont entered the chamber. He now wore white robes and a gold cloak with green trim to signify he had emerged as Flaherty’s successor. “I promised you the warden, Winslow. The others are mine until I decide otherwise.” Although quiet, his voice compelled obedience from Winslow, who backed out of his way. “Who was the druid in green robes?”

  Teelah spat at him rather than answer.

  Valmont wiped the spittle away with a look of revulsion. “Disgusting creature. Perhaps torture will loosen your tongue.” He gestured to the guards. “Take her away.”

  “Release us at once,” Berengar said. “I am a Warden of Fál. When the High Queen learns of this, she will—”

  “Nora will do nothing, I assure you. As far as your High Queen is concerned, you were slain by goblins at Tulach Mhór while in pursuit of the cursed blade. When the king’s men arrived to recover the blade, you were already past all help. The truth will never leave this room.”

  “You’re meddling with forces beyond your control,” Morwen said. “You’re mad if you think you can wield Azeroth’s sword.”

  Valmont returned the shard to a black sheath. “I am far more knowledgeable about the blade than you, magician—including how to reforge it, once the other half is in my possession. As for you…the ceremony’s attendees witnessed your role in the fairy’s escape, as well as your complicity in Bishop Flaherty’s murder. I should thank you. Once I was elected bishop in Flaherty’s place, I was able to rescind the edict disavowing the Acolytes of the True Faith.”

  “You killed Flaherty—murdered him with one of Azura’s knives.” Berengar cast his gaze on Winslow. “You’ve been worki
ng for a fairy this whole time.”

  But Winslow, his men, and the guards had gone utterly still. Each stared ahead with a blank expression. Berengar noticed a crystal wand fixed in Valmont’s hand. Valmont waved the wand, which glowed with purple light, and his appearance shifted before their eyes. The long, white hair clasped behind his back remained the same, but his skin took on a dark gray hue, his ears grew pronounced points, and his hands became claws. Two monstrous bat-like wings spread out behind his cloak. It was like looking at a twisted, monstrous reflection of Azura’s beauty.

  “I trust the iron is to your liking, Azura? I wouldn’t want you escaping—not after all the trouble I went through to capture you.”

  Azura grimaced in discomfort. “Let these two go. Your quarrel is with me.”

  Valmont regarded her with a pair of indigo eyes that seemed to burn in the pale light. “I find your peculiar affection for mankind perverse. You are of the Aos Sídhe, and yet you choose them over your own kin—all because you gave your heart to some human sorcerer. Pathetic. If you truly cared for these two, you wouldn’t have involved them in our affairs.

  “The Bear Warden is nothing more than a tool of his queen. Like most of his kind, he loves only violence. He is beneath my attention. As for the magician…” His gleaming eyes fixed themselves on Morwen. “She has only middling talent, if that. Still, it should prove useful to have a human magician in my service.”

  Morwen stared at him in defiance. “I will never serve you.”

  “You will have no choice in the matter. I will fill your head with words until your will is mine to shape according to my desires.” He returned his attention to Azura. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you. You have worked against my interests since I first came to this wretched city, all while hiding under the guise of a common thief. Even as my influence grew, you avoided my hunters and spies. Impressive, given the bounty I placed on your head. Then again, you are of the Aos Sídhe. You are clever—just not as clever as you think.

  “It was I who arranged for the offer of the black contract.” Valmont pointed the wand at Azura. “You played perfectly into my hands. I knew you would attempt to steal the blade to keep it from falling into my hands, and the prospect of obtaining a wand in the process would be too tempting to forgo.”

  So that’s how his men knew to look for us at the Giant’s Foot, Berengar realized. He set up the meeting to lure Azura into a trap. “Elazar’s supplier of fairy dust—it was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Perhaps you’re not as dimwitted as you appear, Warden Berengar. I used the revenue generated by the sale of fairy dust to buy off the city watch and curry favor with corrupt courtiers and church officials. Humans are remarkably easy to manipulate even without the use of magic.”

  “And the Acolytes?”

  “Fanatics make for useful pawns. So long as I allow them to indulge in the persecution of nonhumans, they are content to enforce my will, all the while unwittingly acting in the service of a fairy.”

  Anger lined Azura’s face. “You would allow those monsters to butcher countless creatures, so long as they do your bidding?”

  “How very human of you. It was mankind who invaded our forests and hunted us from the lands they stole. They have forgotten the old ways even as they expand their settlements across the land. King Annwyn is content to forget their sleights, but he is old and weak. There are other, wiser leaders who would succeed him.

  “The time has come to take back what is ours. Even in the time of Áed, there were fewer and fewer magicians. With your beloved thane slain alongside his king, there are no sorcerers left to oppose us. The cursed blade is but the first step. I plan to reunite all four of the lost treasures of the Tuatha dé Dannan and cast down the humans’ false queen.”

  “Azura was telling the truth,” Morwen muttered to Berengar. “This just went from bad to worse. Cathán wants to destroy humanity and Valmont wants to conquer us.”

  “And we’re stuck here.” Valmont had used his influence to get close enough to the throne to replace King Lucien with a changeling. Prince Tristan must have realized something was amiss and fled Dún Aulin before Valmont had him dealt with.

  With the prince regent missing and Niall gone in search of him, there was no one left to stand in Valmont’s way. With the crown and the church under his control, the most powerful man in Leinster wasn’t actually a man at all. If Valmont succeeded in his quest to reunite the cursed blade, he could bring about a second great war for dominion of Fál. Someone has to tell Nora. Berengar struggled against his restraints, but it was no use.

  “Attempted regicide. The theft of the cursed blade. The murder of Bishop Flaherty. I wonder if the humans you’ve grown so fond of will lift a finger when your sentence is carried out, though I suspect they’ll all gather to watch you burn.” Valmont tapped his wand twice before returning it to his robes. When he turned back to face Winslow and the others, his appearance was human once more. “I must see to the king. Remove the magician to another cell. I wish to question her further. These two I leave in your hands.” He lingered a moment longer at the chamber’s entrance. “Farewell, Azura.”

  “Get back here,” Berengar shouted as the guards led Morwen away. Although she tried to appear brave, the fear in her eyes was plain. Winslow and the others withdrew, leaving him alone with Azura.

  “This is on you. If they hurt her, I’ll flay you alive.”

  “Charming. It’s actually rather sweet, you know—the way you care for her.”

  “Shut up. I’m trying to get us out of here.” He strained against his chains, but only one of the nails anchoring him in place budged even a little. He kept at it until his strength ebbed, and he collapsed, relying on his shackles for support. Don’t give up, you bastard. You promised you’d keep her safe. With a pained cry, he pulled again. The nail came loose, and the chain came free of the wall. One down. Three more to go.

  “Impressive. At this rate, we’ll be free sometime tomorrow—after they’ve killed us.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a better idea.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” She pursed her lips to reveal a lockpick protruding from her teeth.

  “You had that lockpick the whole time?”

  “A good thief is always prepared to make her escape.” Azura bent her neck and contorted her body to bring her face in proximity to the shackle on her right arm. The increased slack on her chains on account of her small frame lent her greater mobility, and she deftly worked the lockpick into the shackle.

  “What’s taking so long?”

  Azura kept working until the shackle opened with a click. “It’s not as easy as it looks.” She winced and bit her lip.

  “What?”

  “That iron took more out of me than I thought.” She opened her mouth to allow the lockpick to fall into her nimble fingers, pried open the shackle on her left arm, and started on the restraints binding her legs. “You’re not actually going to flay me alive if I set you free, are you?”

  Berengar growled at her. “Only if you don’t hurry up and get me out of these chains.”

  Azura froze, and her gaze fell on the door. “Someone’s coming.”

  “No one said you were coming,” the guard who opened the door to their cell said to an individual behind him.

  “The Bishop sent me,” a familiar voice replied. “I’m to hear the warden’s final confession.”

  The skeptical-looking guard removed the key from the door to the cell and appeared poised to ask another question when he was hit on the back of the head with a walking stick and crumpled to the ground.

  Behind him stood Friar Godfrey, next to Faolán.

  Chapter Eleven

  Even if he didn’t show it, Berengar couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so glad to see a man of the cloth. “Took you long enough.”

  “On the contrary, it appears I arrived just in time. You’re in quite a state, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Godfrey caught sight of Azura, and he stammered
, suddenly at a loss for words. “You’re a…”

  “Fairy.” She showed him her teeth. “Keep that crucifix away from me and we’ll get along just fine.”

  Berengar cleared his throat to get their attention. “Hurry. It won’t be long before more guards arrive.”

  Godfrey tore his gaze away from Azura and stooped to retrieve the guard’s keys. “Your hound found me at the Coin and Crown and led me here.” He hastened to free Berengar from his chains while Azura removed her remaining shackle. “I have a wagon waiting outside. We’ll have to move quietly, though—the palace is crawling with guards. Once we’re beyond the walls, you can tell me what a Warden of Fál is doing locked in one of King Lucien’s tower cells.”

  Berengar came free of his restraints. Faolán approached and licked his face.

  “It’s good to see you too, girl. We’re going to have to fight our way out of here.”

  Although a stout man himself, Godfrey nearly buckled under Berengar’s weight. “Fight? You can barely stand.”

  “I’ll live.” Berengar pushed Godfrey away. “They’ve taken Morwen. We’re not leaving without her.” Fury kept him upright. He didn’t need his armor or his weapons—only his rage. It was all he had ever needed. It was time to remind Winslow and his men why he was called the High Queen’s Monster.

  Azura’s gaze moved to the door. “They’re coming.”

  Two monster hunters came running into the cell. When they saw the guard slumped unconscious across the floor, they regarded the prisoners with complete astonishment. Azura hurled her lockpick at one’s throat to prevent him from alerting others in the area. Berengar was on the man’s companion before he could get out his sword. He shoved the guard into the wall hard, but—still weak from confinement—lost his balance with his foe still in his grip. When they hit the floor, he pinned his opponent under him and wrapped his hands around the man’s throat. The monster hunter clawed at Berengar’s face in a desperate but futile attempt at escape before finally succumbing.