by C. M. Gray
Blinking back to visibility, he shivered and waited while three members of the city watch disappeared around a corner, the heavy, echoing footfalls of their boots splashing in puddles fading into the night. Pardigan smiled, they hadn't a clue that they'd passed so close to him. He looked up through the rain at the palace and walked around towards the western tower as thunder rumbled in the distance threatening an even heavier downpour to come.
Almost opposite the tower was an Inn, The Blind Beggar. It was an old building in a bad state of repair, its worn sign creaking as it swayed in the wind still showing a faded likeness of a crouching beggar, hand outstretched and a cloth binding his eyes. Water was cascading down to the street from a broken gutter, the splashing noise covering almost all sounds of conversation that filtered through the thin, cracked glass from inside. Several strained notes came from an accordion, and someone was trying hard to sing, a woman's voice cackled with laughter as she tried to hush him.
'Ya daft ol bugger… buy me a drink an stop yer caterwauling…'
Casting around the deserted street, Pardigan blinked invisible, eased open the door and slipped inside.
He found himself in a darkened hallway just off the main drinking area, which was to his left whilst a wooden staircase, directly in front of him, lead up towards floors above. Pardigan started to climb, taking care to place his weight at the edge of each step to make as little noise as possible. Reaching the top of the stairs, he entered a longer hallway with several doors to either side, which he assumed opened into bedrooms. Light was spilling from under one door about halfway along the passage; the only other light was from a lone candle fluttering feebly in a wall bracket at the far end.
A board squeaked under his boot, Pardigan stopped, carefully holding both the spell and his breath. The muted sounds of the drinkers below may have muffled the sound but…
'That you Sim… Sim?' the voice came from behind the door with the light and Pardigan's heart skipped a beat. Moments went by, and the door remained closed. Softly, easing out his breath, he crept on towards the two last rooms at the end of the corridor, the rooms overlooking the street and the palace beyond. When he had studied the building from the street, it was from these rooms that he hoped he might be able to place-shift into the tower opposite.
Reaching out a hand he cautiously tried each door, but found them both locked. Muttering a silent curse, he became visible so he could concentrate better and dropped to one knee by the first door. Pulling out a piece of stiff leather from the folds of his cloak, he gently forced it between the lock and the doorframe. With his other hand, he worked a curved spike of metal into the lock itself and with all his concentration, patiently felt for the mechanism.
Someone coughed, and he stopped what he was doing and instantly went invisible. He turned around… nobody there… a shiver travelled the length of his spine. It must have been one of the sleepers behind another door. Light flashed beneath the doors and, moments later, thunder rumbled; the storm was getting closer. Despite the chill of the night, a bead of sweat rolled down Pardigan's forehead, and he absently wiped it away. Visible once more, he returned to the lock and gave a sigh when the leather finally obliged, easing further in as the door creaked open. Quickly replacing the tools in his cloak, he slipped into the room and closed the door.
It was dark, but Pardigan could just see that the bed was made-up and some travel bags were on the floor beside the table. Obviously, the occupant was still out, or more likely downstairs getting drunk. He crossed to the window and pulled it open. Damp night air rushed in, blowing the threadbare curtains around like loose sails, he ignored them and gazed across the gloom at the palace and the windows of the western tower, there were several. The rain was really tipping down now, the air filled with a cacophony of noise as it pelted the roofs and street coupled with the wind, which was gusting harder. He could still make out the dark looming shape of the palace through it all. The most promising window was almost level with the one he was on and showed a well-lit room; however, the problem was he was still about fifty spans away, further than he had ever shifted before. He looked up and down the street for alternatives, and saw a warehouse a little further along that appeared to be a little closer and was definitely taller than the Inn. It may give better access to higher rooms in the tower and was worth investigating to compare the two approaches. He started to close the window.
Before he had brought the two windowpanes together, the handle of the door rattled behind him, and there was a thump as someone fell against it. Pardigan turned in time to see two shadowy figures stumble into the room, giggling. It was a woman supporting a large man who appeared to be having some trouble standing. He was laughing as he tried to pull her closer. 'Oh, give us jes one little kiss, won't yeh?'
She laughed and was about to reply when she saw Pardigan standing at the window. She pointed and screamed.
'Aaaahhhh… thief!'
The man looked over and instantly became a lot less drunk. He lunged across the bed and made a grab for Pardigan who moved back.
'Come ere yeh little runt, nobody thieves from me and gets away wiv it!'
Pardigan spun about, put his hands on the wet sill, and searched for the window in the tower. Its light beckoned through the rain and, with no other option and little hesitation, he place-shifted.
* * *
'Wake up!'
Quint awoke; alarmed that he couldn't see anything. He pushed away the hand that was shaking him and rubbed at his eyes. A match scraped in the darkness, and he turned away, squeezing his eyes shut again as it flared, 'Aaahh, what's happening?' Holding his hand up as a shield against the flame, he glanced across and saw Tarent busily shaking Loras awake.
'Pardigan's gone… probably after the rose,' muttered Tarent.
Quint sat up and looked over at Pardigan's empty bed. 'Damn!' he searched about for his clothes. 'I can't believe it. He had me convinced he wasn't that dumb.'
'Oh, he's that dumb all right. You didn't have to spend three days in the desert with him, I did, and I know he's that dumb. Come on, we've got to go look for him.'
Treading carefully, so as not to wake anybody in the sleeping Inn, the three friends descended the dark staircase and let themselves out into the night.
The street was deserted. Guttering torches, set outside the Inn, fought a losing battle with the incessant rain to throw light onto the street. It was cold, dark and miserable. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning flashed, illuminating everything.
'What are we doing out here?' whined Loras as he lifted his glasses and rubbed sleep from his eyes. 'We'll never find him in this… and it's the middle of the night!'
Tarent pulled out a piece of oilcloth and held it over them to keep the worst of the rain off and they gathered beneath, the raindrops drumming noisily. 'We have to look for him, Loras, he's…' Tarent looked almost lost for words. 'Well he's Pardigan, one of the crew. We have to go after him.' Loras nodded, and they set off towards the palace, being careful to keep out of the puddles.
* * *
Pardigan swayed as he tried to steady himself. Place-shifting wasn't something you really ever got used to. It was a little like looking through a telescope, and then zooming in at an incredible speed on what you saw. He glanced about trying to get his bearings and saw he was in a long bright room that curved with the shape of the round tower. Several large candelabras held the stubs of candles, about half of which were still alight, and there was a crackling fire sending dancing shadows around the room. There were some tables, comfortable chairs and a few books, but this appeared to be more of a meeting or reception room, it definitely wasn't a library. Thankfully, nobody was meeting right now. Outside the wind beat against the walls as the storm's fury continued to grow, lightning flashed, and thunder boomed rattling the glass in the window frames. Glad he was in a warm dry room, Pardigan looked back out at the Inn and saw that the man and woman were standing at the window holding back the damp curtains. They were peering down at the str
eet below, and the woman was crying, they obviously thought he'd jumped and were searching for his body amongst the puddles.
I'm not that daft, thought Pardigan with a smile. Oh well, seeing as I'm over here I suppose I should have a look around. He walked to the large door, marvelling at the unfamiliar bouncy feel of thick red carpet beneath his feet. He bounced up and down; it was like bedding on the floor. He bound across the room several times, back and forth, with a big grin on his face and then tried the door. It swung in easily, and Pardigan blinked into invisibility as he passed through into an outer corridor.
Considering how quiet the city had been, it was a surprise to Pardigan that so many people were walking the halls of the palace at this late hour. Several uniformed guards hurried past and servants were rushing back and forth on errands. They didn't appear to be looking for him; which was his immediate worry, something else was going on in the palace. All the better for getting the rose, thought Pardigan smiling as he headed towards a staircase.
The floor at the top of the stairs was given over to apartments and offices, he spent time opening doors and peering round corners as people entered and left. By the time he'd reached the level above that, he was searching for somewhere to rest. Holding the invisibility spell this long was tiring, and he was starting to think he was hallucinating when he saw several small figures drift past like wisps of smoke. He'd heard of ghosts of course but didn't really believe they existed outside of stories. Putting it down to the strain of holding the spell and being tired, he moved on.
A servant came up the stairs carrying a large tray of food and with a little difficulty, opened a big heavy door before entering. Following his nose more than any other sense, Pardigan trailed behind searching eagerly for a place to rest as he slipped in before the door closed.
The servant set the tray down beside an old man sleeping slumped in a chair and then, without waking him, walked back out of the room closing the door softly. Pardigan glanced about and sighed with relief as he saw row after row of books. Now this looks more like a library he thought. Being sure to keep behind the old man, he relaxed the spell and became visible.
The room was long and thin, curving with the round shape of the tower like the room he had first entered. The now familiar deep red carpeting covered the floor and Pardigan bent down and ran his hand over it, marvelling at the softness. A fire crackled in the hearth and a few candles flickered, but most of the library was dark and silent. It smelled of old books, parchment and learning, and felt as if the windows had never been allowed to open in case the fresh air cleansed the room of its carefully stored knowledge. Pardigan pushed back his hood and sank down into a chair, thankful for a chance to rest. Fighting the urge to close his eyes for a few moments, he gazed around the room then picked up a book lying on the table next to him, but it was in some language other than low-speak, so he put it back down. Looking around again he saw a cabinet at the far end of the room and placed upon it, was a candelabrum casting a pool of yellow light onto a red velvet pillow. Pardigan got to his feet, excitement rising inside him; it must be the rose! Glancing back to be sure the old man was still asleep, he walked over to see if it really was the fabled rose… and there it was, in all its glory! Incredibly detailed, the slim stem of the rose had two small branches, each holding three delicate leaves while the flower appeared to be caught in the very moment of opening. Pardigan stared at it for a moment, captivated by its beauty.
He resisted the immediate temptation to reach out and pick it up, but instead cast his professional eye over both the rose and the cushion to see if there was some sort of trap… nothing, or at least nothing that he could see. He glanced behind him again and saw the old man was still asleep and the door to the corridor had remained closed. Reaching out, he gently picked up the rose, feeling the weight in his hands as a voice in his mind noted that it was just too easy. Unfortunately, the voice behind him confirmed it only a beat of the heart later.
'Hello my friend, I must say you've done awfully well to get this far.' Pardigan's heart leapt, and he spun around clutching the rose to his chest. The old man was standing there smiling happily as if he were watching his favourite nephew opening a very special birthday present.
He was a little taller than Pardigan, dressed in a long blue robe, and wore round glasses that made his big blue eyes look huge and owlish. He was also plump in a happy, well-fed sort of way and really did appear delighted to find the rose being stolen. A big smile pushed his cheeks out above a fluffy white beard, where they glowed, red, like two freshly polished apples. Reaching into his robe, he pulled out a short length of rope that he then held out, allowing it to float freely in mid-air.
'I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to bind your hands and call the guards. I must say it's such a shame that someone so young must hang, but thievery is not an honest business and needs to be punished.' He pushed out the rope as if he really expected Pardigan to comply and be tied up. Pardigan stared back at the beaming face, his confidence returning as fast as it had fled.
'You're a Magician? You have to be to move from the chair to me as fast as you did. I've got a friend who would love to meet you.'
The Magician sighed. 'My name is Silas Falk, and I am, indeed, a Magician, the King's personal Magician as it happens. But I'm afraid your friend will only get a chance to see me while the hangman places a noose around your neck because it will be my unhappy duty to be standing next to you as he does it.'
Pardigan kept up the smile that was threatening to leave. 'Where does the King sleep?'
'What?' The Magician's smile dropped, this obviously wasn't a question that he'd been expecting. 'The King,' continued Pardigan. 'You know, the ruler of the land, married to the Queen, likes hanging thieves, you must know him. Where does he sleep?' The Magician's expression had turned to a scowl.
'Hold out your arms, I have to bind you.' He pushed out the rope again with a wave of his hands and it floated a little closer to Pardigan. 'His majesty sleeps in his chambers, in the east tower, but why would you want to know that?' Pardigan stepped back, still smiling.
'Because I'm going to put this rose on his pillow.' He looked to the door and place-shifted, feeling the familiar rush, mixed with the cry of alarm from the Magician. At the door, he turned, waved back at the startled old man, and then stepped through. Once in the hallway he became invisible again.
The corridor was deserted, but instead of just running, Pardigan stepped to one side and waited for the Magician to come out, which he did only moments later. The smile was back in place amongst the fluffy white beard, and he was muttering to himself.
'A place-shifter, how exciting, shifted a good twelve spans too! Good, good, good.' He went shuffling down the corridor with Pardigan following a few paces behind.
* * *
Outside the palace, three wet figures stared up from beneath their oilskin and gazed through the rain at the palace walls. The street was empty. Even the guards at the gate had retreated into their guardhouse.
'Well, now what… I don't see him?' Hopping across to the shelter of a doorway, Loras huddled down and glanced about, shivering. 'I don't understand why we're here? Can't we just get cross with him in the morning? And if we're not going back to The Owl, then let's at least sit by the wall where I can warm the air. I can't keep the rain out while we walk. There's water dripping down the back of my cloak and my feet are soaked, and anyway, we're never going to find him. If he's decided to get into the palace, then he's already inside… this is stupid.'
'We're here,' said Tarent, 'because he's probably going to get into a lot of trouble. Come on, let's walk around the walls, we may still find him and if not, we can shelter after.' Quint helped Loras up from where he had sunk to a crouch, and they trailed after Tarent. They traipsed along, following the street around the palace, jumping over puddles and keeping close to the wall to stay out of the rain and wind as best they could. The storm was getting much closer. After each flash of lightning, they each counted the heartbeats b
efore the clash of thunder. 'Five leagues away… three leagues…'
'If I know Pardigan he'll either get out quietly, or there's going to be a big commotion when they try to catch him,' said Quint.
Loras nodded miserably, 'I suppose that wherever he is he's going to be warmer and dryer than we are, this is not fun.'
'Blame Pardigan,' growled Tarent.
The street remained empty, and they soon gave in to Loris's whining demands and headed over to some steps in a darkened doorway, opposite the main entrance to the palace. Settling down, Loras was finally able to set a bubble of air around them and warm the inside to keep out the chill and damp. Unable to do much of anything else, they sat and watched the patterns in the rain, waiting for something to happen. They didn't have to wait too long, as far off in the palace first one horn sounded and then another. They watched with interest as several guards came rushing out to stand miserably at attention in the rain with water streaming down their cloaks. More horns sounded at various parts of the palace and the three friends looked at each other.
'Well, I think that means he got in, and they know he's there,' smiled Quint. 'Good luck, Pardigan,' he muttered under his breath, and then added, 'Source be true.'
* * *
Chapter 3
The King's Thief
Horns and now bells echoed through the palace in a deafening cacophony of sound and confusion. Doors crashed open, and guards and servants filled the corridors making it difficult for Pardigan to keep the Magician in sight. They descended several levels of stairs and entered a huge central reception hall heading, in what Pardigan hoped was the direction of the east tower and the King's chambers.
Keeping up as best he could, he made his way across the hall, sidestepping people who couldn't see him, and so made no effort to avoid him, as he gazed about in awe. The hall was vast and richly appointed. Massive stone pillars the size of mature oak trees lined each side reaching up towards a golden, vaulted ceiling. At the base of each pillar stood a uniformed guard, stern and unmoving, ignoring the pandemonium around them, resigned to their task of motionless duty.
