by Ben Hale
“Where did he get them?” Jack asked. “I've never heard of a Gate.”
“Where do we get anything?” Beauty said. “We are thieves.”
Jack grinned in agreement. “Let's see how it works.”
“First this,” Orathan said, and withdrew a key from his pocket that matched the one he'd used to enter the room. Then he handed it to Jack. “This will allow access to the secret levels within the guild, and is only given to higher class thieves.”
Jack examined the strange key. “I've never been good with keys,” he said. “Can I get a replacement if I lose it?”
“No,” Orathan said flatly. “Lose it, and the Guildmaster kills you.”
Jack started to laugh but the seriousness of their expressions robbed him of his humor. Beauty pointed to the key.
“It's happened before. Don't lose it.”
Jack slipped it into a pouch at his side and gestured to the Gate. “What are we waiting for?”
Orathan sneered at his cavalier tone and stepped to the mirror. He turned one of the runes embedded in the side of the frame and stepped back. In response the glass rippled like water and then returned to the view of the room.
“That's it?”
Orathan growled under his breath. “Your arrogance will get you killed, thief.”
Beauty was already striding toward the glass. “He's right,” she called over her shoulder.
She stepped into the glass but it flowed about her like liquid, enveloping her form until she disappeared from view. Surprised and intrigued Jack stepped to follow, but Orathan caught his arm.
“Watch yourself, Jack,” he said. “The Guildmaster's favor is a sword that cuts both ways.”
He pulled his arm free. “Why warn me? You obviously don't care for me.”
“True,” he admitted, “But the Guildmaster's wrath tends to reach beyond the offender.”
Jack smirked at the fear in his eyes. “You worry he will blame you.”
The elf scowled at Jack's expression. “A wise man worries about the storm yet to come.”
“And you’re the wise man?”
“You would do well to heed my warning, Jack. I witnessed what happened to the others, and it is not a fate you want for yourself.”
“Others?”
Orathan leaned back, pleased at Jack's curiosity. “You are not the first to draw his gaze.”
“You make it sound like he is searching for someone.”
“Perhaps he is,” Orathan said. “He picks the best and watches them flourish. When they are at their peak he sends them on special assignments. Few have returned, and those that do are never the same. Whatever he wants, he has yet to get it.”
Jack smirked and stepped toward the mirror. “He hasn't sent me yet.”
Orathan straightened, rage flitting across his features. Jack laughed and stepped through the mirror, the motion cutting off Orathan's angry retort. As if he’d stepped through a door, Jack found himself in a very different chamber. Rather than stone, the walls were made of seamless wood. Then he realized he stood within the interior of a single, gigantic tree. Spotting Beauty standing on a balcony outside the room, he strode to her side. She smiled at him and gestured to the city woven amongst other enormous trees.
“Welcome to Woodhaven.” she said.
Chapter 26: Kuraltus
Jack had been in a handful of elven cities, but had never had cause to go to Woodhaven. Now he wished he had come here before. As the third largest city within the elven kingdom, the elven port city was situated in the western side of the forest of Numenessee.
Trees curved and twisted in beautiful shapes, forming living streets and great buildings. Their upper branches contained thousands of homes, their terraces overlooking the city below. Hanging bridges curved between the trees like massive vines, connecting the upper levels of the city to each other. With great branches gracefully lifting small platforms, the stairs spiraling around the trees were hardly used.
Strands of sunlight cascaded through the leaves above, bathing the region in golden light. Sparkling in the sun, enchanted waters flowed up the sides of the trees to form liquid statues that clung to the trees like ascending giants. There the fluid turned into waterfalls and cascaded back to the forest floor.
Beauty grinned at his expression. “Woodhaven contains a guildhall for their mages. As part of their studies they use their magic to beautify the city. Each year the senior students perform an act of service for the city that is evaluated by their instructors on creativity and mastery. Last year the students cast the elven ascenders to ease travel between the levels of the city.”
Jack leaned over the branch that formed the handrail and peered between the branches below. “How far are we from Azertorn?”
“Eight days’ ride,” she said, “or two days by boat, if you can afford it. Woodhaven actually borders the coast, and among other things serves as the principal port for their nation.”
Now that she had pointed it out, he managed to see the distant break in the trees to the southwest where a glimmer of blue was visible. A faint call from a gull touched his ears, and a moment later he heard the unmistakable ring of a ship's bell.
“And our guildhall?” he gestured back to the room containing the mirror—but the doorway was gone.
She laughed as he searched for it. “This upper terrace is called a vethinaal, meaning 'a bird's view' in elvish. Most of the homes in the city have one, but they never have a room inside the trunk. They are intended for the elves to speak outside but in private. The wealthier homes contain a full garden held aloft by multiple trees.”
“And this home is the guildhall?” He gestured to their feet.
She led him around the trunk to the opposite side of the tree. Only a handful of homes were visible in the trees to the north. At half the size of the great city trunks, the trees were progressively smaller the farther they grew from Woodhaven.
“This guildhall is situated on the outskirts of the city. Any farther north and the trees have not been enchanted to grow to such heights.”
“And they let humans come to the city?” Jack asked.
“Of course,” she said. “It's nothing like Terros, but you'll see a smattering of the other races here. We won't stand out too much if we dress well.”
He glanced down at his clothes which were still dirty from the road. “What persona do you suggest?”
“If you have one with established credentials, a merchant would be best.”She turned toward the spiral staircase that wrapped the trunk going down. “As you know, the elves produce the light orbs used throughout the world. Woodhaven creates and exports more than any other city, including Azertorn. It has made the citizens here wealthy, and if we want to blend in, you'll have to dress the part.”
His gaze was drawn to the leaves fluttering on a branch nearby. It reminded him of rumors he'd heard about the trees in Azertorn.
“Do we need to worry about the trees hearing us?”
She jerked her head. “Some trees talk to the elves, but not the city trees. The enchantment to make them grow limits their ability to communicate, or so I understand. The sole exception is Le Runtáriel.”
“The great tree in Azertorn?'
She nodded. “All trees have a form of consciousness, but their minds are more like that of a squirrel or bird. Simple concepts can be conveyed but they lack the mind of a more sophisticated creature. Le Runtáriel has a mind as keen as you or I, and she frequently uses her sway over the trees in Azertorn to capture criminals.”
As capitol of the elven nation, Azertorn was a fortress—even more than the dwarven citadels. Many believed it to be the strongest citadel in Lumineia, and it had never been breached. Jack had visited once with his mother and had fond memories of exploring its terraced levels.
Beauty led him to the side and down a spiral staircase that descended fifty feet to the upper section of the home. Built between a group of trees, the multi-tiered structure lay nestled between the spiraling trunks.
The home was more than a hundred feet across, with spacious floors and broad windows that looked out over the city. Jack noticed a flicker in the image and realized that the windows were an illusion intended to mask what lay inside. When they stepped through a door and entered, the interior was as lavish as the illusion, albeit with an abundance of tools and weapons adorning the walls.
The space appeared to be a training room and resembled Ember Hall. Several of the training circles contained a pedestal with a tiny sphere of water or light. Recognizing them as sources of magic, Jack gestured to the trio of elves lounging about the room.
“We have elven mages in the guild?”
“Not all mages used their magic to beautify the city,” she said with a smile, and gestured to one sitting in the corner. He tossed a ball of water between his hands before curling it into a snake that climbed up his arm. “Take Urin, for example. He was one of their brightest students until his penchant for explosions came to light.”
As if hearing her, the elf pulled a fleck of water from the snake and tossed it into the air, where it detonated in a burst of fire. He smiled with pleasure at the sight and then went back to playing with water.
“I hope they’re not all mad,” Jack said.
Beauty gestured to an elf maiden, this one occupied with focusing light into a tiny statue of a swordsman. The figurine rose to its feet and charged another thief, digging its tiny light blade into his foot before evaporating into nothingness.
“Lorelia,” the elf growled, looking up from his book. “I swear I'm going to kill you.”
She feigned an innocent look. “Why? What happened?”
“You know very well what happened,” he snapped. “Stop putting needles in my foot.”
She folded her arms. “You've been sitting there for hours, and blame me when your foot starts to tingle?”
Her outrage appeared real enough that the man shifted and withdrew. “Perhaps I was mistaken,” he allowed, and then returned to his book.
Lorelia glanced Jack's way and smirked before bending and crafting a second figurine. A smile spread on Jack's face as he thought of the guildhall. These were the best thieves in the entire guild, and they clearly had talents to match.
“Lorelia,” Beauty called. “Is Kuraltus in his office?”
The light mage shook her head, her eyes flicking to Jack and wandering down his form. “He's downstairs conducting business.”
“This is Jack—”
“—Myst,” she cut Beauty off. “I've heard.”
Jack’s smile widened at her tone. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
Lorelia responded with a tinkling laugh. “I look forward to working together.”
Irritation flickered across Beauty's face and she pulled Jack away before he could respond. They strode across the floor and descended another set of stairs that wound past the meal chambers, sleeping quarters, and private offices. Once they were out of earshot of the training room, Beauty growled under her breath.
“Stay away from Lorelia,” she said. “She loves mischief, and is far more dangerous than she looks.”
“I hear jealousy in that voice.”
“Don't flatter yourself.”
He laughed as they reached the bottom of the guildhall, but she caught his hand and forced him to face her. He thought she would speak about Lorelia again, but instead her words carried a different warning.
“Be wary of Kuraltus,” she said. “He may be the master of this hall, but everyone here is a class three or above. They do what he says, but everyone hates him.”
“I'm always careful.”
His light tone caused her to lean in. “He's smart, Jack, and cautious. He won't be as easy to corner as Nemeth.”
The glint of worry in her eyes was enough for him to sober. “As you order,” he said.
Satisfied, she turned and took the last curve in the descent. The staircase ended at a door that opened into a spherical room. Situated at the crux between the three intertwining trees, the sphere formed the base of the tree home. An aquaglass floor allowed Jack to see the gnarled wood beneath, and reflected the furniture situated about the room.
Evidently intended to look like a standard elven home, the receiving room contained couches and a small table around an open fire at the center. The flames were white and smokeless, but still crackled and licked at the wood.
“ . . . don't care why you failed,” an elf said, holding a second elf against the floor. “I want to know if it's in the Queen's Vault.”
“I'll find out,” the elf said, gasping as blood seeped from a wound on his hand. The blood trickled into the aquaglass, briefly staining it before the enchantment cleared it away.
Kuraltus rose to his feet and straightened his clothes, catching sight of Beauty and Jack framed in the doorway. His lips tightened and he kicked the elf on the floor, who cried out in pain.
“Go, before I take one of your fingers as the price of your failure.”
The elf crawled to his feet and left through the opposite door, cradling his hand to his chest as he limped away. Once he was gone Kuraltus gestured to Jack.
“I don't care for your presence in my hall,” he said coldly. “Or your tactics.”
With Beauty's warning fresh in his mind, he suppressed his irritation. “I'm here for my next assignment.”
Kuraltus advanced toward them, his voice turning soft. “You think this is some backwoods city where you can take what you want and walk away?”
“I didn't exactly walk,” Jack retorted.
“No, you demanded they acknowledge you were a thief with such arrogance that the city is dead to us. You lost us thousands of coin for your pride.” The elf came to a halt so close to Jack that he could smell the ale on his breath. “A good thief is invisible, and leaves no trail that will lead back to the guild.”
Jack was annoyed at the sense of intimidation the elf inspired. He was tall and broad-shouldered for an elf, and his looming presence looked down on Jack like he was scum on his boot. Jack fought the urge to retreat a step and instead grinned.
“A good thief may be invisible, but a great one makes future targets afraid of his appearance.”
“Is that what you are, Jack?” Kuraltus said, his voice turning dangerous. “Great?”
Beauty stepped between them, forestalling the mounting conflict and drawing the master's focus. “We're here on the Guildmaster's orders. What do you have for us?”
“Nothing for him,” Kuraltus said, “But I have a small assignment for you.”
At first Jack thought the distraction had worked, but then he noticed the simmering rage in the elf's lidded gaze and realized the elf had allowed the distraction to work. Jack saw the elf's hatred yet sensed that it was not entirely directed at him. The rigidity to his form, the tension in his features, both indicated his hatred ran far deeper than Jack's recent theft in Nightfall Gorge. The effect seeped across him like poison, darkening his expression and even dimming his gaze. As Jack departed the room he couldn't help but wonder what had caused it.
And if it had anything to do with the Guildmaster’s secret.
Chapter 27: Longblade
“So what's the assignment?” Jack asked.
After their conversation with Kuraltus they had ascended to the meal hall, where she looked over the note Kuraltus had given her. He shoved roasted tubers into his mouth and then grabbed a pinch of spice to flavor the food.
“It's a simple paper grab from an office,” she said. “Apparently a business wants to know their competitor’s upcoming inventory before it arrives. I can handle it alone.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Jack asked.
“Go see the city,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “You may be used to the streets of Talinor and Griffin, but this is another thing altogether. You're going to want to know your way around.”
Lorelia slid into a seat beside Jack and leaned in. “I'll give him a tour,” she purred, her bright blue eyes on Jack.
<
br /> Beauty's features tightened. “I don't think that's necessary—”
“Oh, I think it is,” Lorelia said with a smile, which Jack returned.
“I'll see you tomorrow,” Jack said. He rose to his feet, savoring the dismay on Beauty's features.
“Perhaps I do need help on my assignment,” Beauty said. “It could be more complicated than expected.”
“Nonsense,” Jack said. “You said it yourself, you can handle it.”
“I'll take care of him,” Lorelia said. “I swear it.”
Beauty folded her arms. “That's what I'm worried about.”
Lorelia laughed and guided Jack toward the door. Once outside she led him down to the receiving hall. It was empty, and they passed through to the main double doors. Swinging them open, Jack stepped onto a balcony with a pair of catwalks extending to neighboring trees.
“What's your story, Jack?” she asked, her eyes bright with excitement.
“I didn't like to work so I became a thief.”
She laughed again and tossed her blond hair. “The same could be said of all of us—but few would think to do what you did at Nightfall Gorge.”
He saw the opportunity in her excited voice, and a sly grin spread on his features. He gestured to the city.
“Are you as good a thief as I hear?” he asked.
Her eyes twinkled at the subtle praise. “Of course.” She wrapped her arms around him, pushing against him. “Are you?”
He laughed and pulled himself free. “Of course.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Find us a target, and we’ll see who can steal more. If you win, I'll tell you a single truth. If I win, I get something to remember you by.”
“What do you mean by that?” she purred, her eyes gleaming.
“Whatever you think it means,” he replied.
She bit her lip as if considering his request. “I like it,” she finally said, and set off down the bridge. “Let's go find ourselves a target.”
He followed her through the labyrinth of bridges, terraces, and platforms scattered throughout the treescape. As they approached the ocean the trees grew thicker, the pathways becoming more abundant.
