To Steal from a Demon (A Wielders Novel Book 2)

by Max Anthony

  Skulks wasn’t really interested. All he’d planned to do was to draw a dead wizard or two on randomly-chosen pages. He was already giggling like a child at the notion, for the idea had quite tickled him. Instead, his plans to bamboozle the wizard with crudely-scrawled representations of her death were dashed from his head by some of the notes he saw in Wagglehorn’s spellbook, including plans for a cryptically-named ‘Tolerant’s Thief Redundancizer’. He skimmed over a few of the notes:

  …and my creation will seek out and steal that which is most precious to its owner….teach those bastard thieves a lesson for stealing my slippers….win an award at the Wizards’ Convention….

  He closed the book and opened the door to the other room. It was utterly silent, though a pair of eyes was peeking out from under the bed, watching an unsuspecting Skulks. In here there was a very comfortable bed, scattered with clothing laid out to allow the owner the visibility required to choose the correct outfit. There were also three enormous suitcases on the floor with clothes still visible in some where they had evidently over-spilled the capacity of the wardrobe to contain them. In addition, there was other furniture: a dressing table with mirror and a chair for the sitting on. What most drew Skulks’ eye was a large, ornate chest. It was about knee high, made of weathered wood and solidly bound in iron fittings. It must have been a bugger to get upstairs and Skulks knew wizards weren’t good tippers.

  Skulks was no more able to resist an iron-bound chest than a starving man could resist a meat pie and he found himself pulled towards it by a force he could not control, that force being his requirement to steal from it. This chest was so juicy-looking that he actually rubbed his hands together in anticipation of removing the contents. However, he was to be thwarted, albeit for a short period. A mouth appeared upon the surface of the chest’s lid.

  “Ho!” it spoke. “I detect one who wishes to look at that which I guard! In order that you may look within, ten riddles must you answer!” And with that it launched into its first riddle.

  “Thirty decaying horses on a receding hill. First they champ, then they……HEY!”

  The reason for the chest’s consternation was that Skulks had already pulled away the magics binding the chest shut, deactivated the mechanical needle trap and opened the lock. He lifted the lid, pushing the mouth up against the wall where it continued to splutter and chunter with Skulks paying its vapid threats no mind.

  The chest contained treasures beyond measure. There were vases, a small oil painting, a monocle, a wooden foot, several gold rings and much more besides. Having seen the notes in the spellbook, Skulks suddenly realised what these items were. Each was the most valuable thing that the owner possessed. They may not have been the most valuable in terms of their Sliver value, but each had something which made them cherished by their owner. “And this dastardly wizard has pilfered them!” thought Skulks, papering over his own lack of saintliness in this respect. Lying in the pile was a silver ear-trumpet and Skulks’ very own dagger-swords. He re-sheathed his daggers, only now realising how lost he’d felt without them. He patted the hilts.

  With Skulks still unaware, the owner of the watching eyes had emerged from beneath the bed, so soundless that it almost seemed to suck noise from the air as it approached. Without knowing what alerted him, Skulks turned, hands already reaching for his dagger-swords. He was too late, for something landed upon his shoulders; something dense, angular and heavy. Skulks turned this way and that as hands sought to grapple away his daggers. He fended them off, but his assailant was strong and fast. Skulks bent forward and reached over his shoulders, managing to grip that which was on his shoulder, flipping it free from his body and into the corner of the room.

  Then he saw it. Tolerant’s Thief Redundancizer was a clockwork monkey. It was about three feet high and comprising cogs, wheels and springs. The eyes looked peculiarly real and when Skulks noticed the hands and feet were the same, he realised that the creature had been made from both metal and parts cut from a living animal. It leapt once more at Skulks, having given no indication that it was about to do so. It was almost impossibly fast, but Skulks managed to step aside, cutting at it with a dagger as it flew by, leaving a flash of sparks behind in the darkness of the room.

  The monkey was relentless, springing at Skulks time and again as he avoided its assault. His daggers were damaging it, but they were designed to pierce flesh or magic and had little effect on a creature made mostly from metal. After a short time, Skulks realised that the monkey wasn’t trying to hurt him. With each silent spring, the hands would frantically attempt to grasp at the daggers in his hands. Having just got them back, Skulks found himself reluctant to give them up again so soon, but he was concerned that Humpy Wagglehorn might shortly return to treat him to some of her arm-waving nonsense.

  Suddenly, Skulks had an idea, though he was too occupied with the clockwork monkey to put a finger into the air to signify the advent of it. He dropped his daggers back into the chest, instantly promoting his trousers to the position of his most treasured possessions. With a new target, the monkey scrabbled desperately at Skulks’ pants as it attempted to fulfil its instruction to steal that which its foe held most dear.

  Within seconds the monkey had hauled Skulks’ kecks clear of his legs, whereupon it gleefully leaped towards the chest to deposit them therein. Equally quick, Skulks scooped back his dagger-swords, placed a foot on the metallic simian rump and assisted it into the chest, where its arrival was greeted by a closing of the lid, trapping it within. Trouserless and thinking himself to be most excellent in his endeavours, Skulks used his Wielding to lock the chest, giving himself a small amount of breathing space. The formerly vociferous guardian mouth was now silent.

  As the monkey worked at the lock from the inside, Skulks thought quickly on the matter of how he could nullify Wagglehorn’s monstrous nimble-fingered creation.

  “What a wizard makes, a thief can steal or stab in the back,” he told himself. The thought provided comfort, but little practical help in the circumstances. In the chest, the monkey had now deactivated the lock, which Skulks promptly re-locked before it could burst free.

  At that point there was a fumbling sound at the door to Room 227 as hands struggled to fit the key into the lock. Just as the monkey’s creator entered the adjoining room, the clockwork monkey sprang free of the chest, dislodging Skulks who was sitting upon the lid.

  “Humpy Wagglehorn!” cried Skulks, using his Wielding in a way he’d never tried before. Receiving Skulks’ command to steal that which Wagglehorn held most dear and finding that it was unable to pilfer itself, the monkey paused, stumbled and then fell over, making the sound of a distressed grandfather clock as it collapsed into its constituent parts.

  At that moment, Humpy Wagglehorn, alerted by the sound of commotion, came into the room. She screamed.

  “My monkey! What has happened to my monkey?”

  She was not to get an answer immediately, for Skulks struck her on the back of the neck using the pommel of his dagger, rendering her unconscious. As she toppled over, Skulks assisted her to the floor. There was another scream, this time coming from a curious cleaning lady who had entered the suite to investigate the noise. Confronted by a trouserless man stooped over an unconscious lady, she felt compelled to give voice to her concern. It took Skulks all of his powers of persuasion to placate the poor lady in order that he could leave the hotel without kerfuffle.

  Seven

  It was mid-afternoon by the time Tan Skulks returned to the Chamber Building. He wasn’t sure where the intervening four hours had gone, but he vaguely recalled stopping somewhere for a bite to eat, watching a couple of rats having a fight and sending a contingent of guards to arrest Wagglehorn and throw her into a cell. She’d be missing the Wizards’ Convention this year.

  As he entered his office, he noticed that the clerks had talents which they had not thus far informed him about, for his door had been somehow unlocked and new papers placed into his to-do tray. Not only that
, but they’d replaced his empty chair with a chair containing Chamber Member Heathen Spout.

  “I see you’ve got your daggers back,” she said, proving herself to be very observant for Skulks had tucked them away beneath his tunic.

  “A clockwork monkey stole them,” he replied. “And my trousers.” If this news seemed strange, perhaps even unlikely, Spout gave no indication that she thought it so.

  Skulks continued. “It was a wizard’s construct, made to steal the most precious possessions of its target with no consideration for their loss!”

  “Well I’m glad you’ve got them back,” she said. “And your trousers too. Though it looks like they need patching up. However, I’m not here to talk about trousers or clockwork monkeys. Do you recall me mentioning a secret mission when we were talking recently?”

  “The one to Rhult to undermine King Meugh?” he asked.

  Spout paused, for Skulks was not meant to have known the purpose of the visit. On the other hand, she’d have been disappointed if he hadn’t found out.

  “Yes. That mission.”

  Skulks tried to look nonchalant. “The mission with Captain Honey.”

  “Yes. Captain Honey has returned from the Million Trees Forest having successfully destroyed Tiopan Lunder’s camp and the siege machinery contained there. Though a number of his men got away and dispersed into the forest. We’ll root them out eventually, assuming they don’t just drift into Hardened and settle down to an honest life.” Spout had nothing against soldiers, as long as they weren’t using catapults to hurl flaming oil-filled pig’s bladders over Hardened’s walls.

  “So what exactly is the plan?” Skulks was quite excited at the idea of state-sponsored mischief. With his new office and job title, it was official too.

  “I think you’ll like it,” said Spout. “We are sending you over as part of a trade delegation to negotiate duties and tariffs on Ko-Chak hotleaf, which we intend to start exporting in large quantities to Rhult. Casks, which is King Meugh’s capital city, would be an excellent place to dock our shipments.”

  “Won’t they just kill us?”

  “Don’t be silly, Tan. We’re not at war with the Kingdom of Meugh. They murdered our citizens and planned to kill and depose the Chamber Council, but we’re not at war.”

  Skulks looked puzzled and in truth he was slightly puzzled. He could have stolen his own underwear without him knowing about it, but he wasn’t very good when it came to international relations.

  “So…King Meugh just gets away with it?”

  “No, no, no!” responded Spout vehemently. “He will not get away with it!” Skulks was even more puzzled now.

  Spout tried to enlighten him. “King Meugh is a thoroughly unpleasant individual by all accounts and we’re not going to let him get away with what he did. What we’re going to do is pretend that he got away with it.”

  “Aha!” exclaimed Skulks. He could understand lies and subterfuge.

  “So we’re going to act like nothing’s happened,” said Spout. “It’s part of the game. We’ll pretend he isn’t a murdering dung-eater and he’ll pretend he likes us and wants to trade with us. In truth, he won’t really know exactly what happened to his soldiers over here on Ko-Chak. He’ll have had clues and snippets, but he’ll be desperate to find out what went wrong.”

  Skulks was starting to like this whole ‘international relations’ thing, thinking that he would fit right in. Spout continued his education:

  “Once we’re over there, you’re going to investigate exactly what he’s up to and you’re also going to do as much as you can to cause him problems.”

  Skulks’ mood was improving by the second. “Any specific problems?”

  “You’re the head of the Office of Covert Operations. I’m sure you can think of something.”

  “Yes.” said Skulks, nodding happily. “I’m sure I can.”

  “However,” said Spout, “you should also be aware that King Meugh will know that some or perhaps all of our trade delegation will be there to indulge in jiggery-pokery at his expense and he will be trying to stop us.”

  “Let me guess?” asked Skulks. “He’ll pretend that we’re his favourite and most honoured guests, while trying to bump us off and make it look like an accident?”

  “Precisely!”

  “When are we leaving?”

  “Tomorrow morning. There’s a ship at the Downriver Docks. The Hardened’s Reach.”

  As she rose to leave, Spout had final words to deliver.

  “Oh and Tan? Don’t go out and buy yourself any more hats. We want to give the right impression when our delegation arrives in Casks.”

  Eight

  It was early the next morning that Tan Skulks woke. Though he attributed his fitful sleep to a lumpy pillow and the need to urinate twice, he was actually excited to be on his way to Casks in order to see what mischief he could get up to under the aegis of the mighty Hardened machine, though he now knew that it wasn’t strictly speaking mischief as much as it was international relations. So, on this morning, Skulks was up several hours prior to his usual time of eleven. The Hardened’s Reach was due to sail with the tide at mid-morning, which allowed Skulks to indulge in his usual lackadaisical approach to his preparations. His torn clothing was sewn together and his daggers were at his belt when he set off towards the Downriver Docks with the grumblings from his stomach frightening young children as he passed. Surrendering to its indignant demands for him to shove stodgy food into it, he purchased a warm pork pie, a family-sized iced bun and a second pork pie as he made his way to his destination.

  The Hardened’s Reach was a fine ship and less than ten years old. It was of a medium-size, but built for speed and could outpace most vessels on the water with its oars, sails and well-trained crew. It would be setting sail shortly, but Skulks was not currently aboard. The reason being that he was in conversation with Dockmaster Grumps.

  “I am hoping you might help me, good dockmaster. A vile miscreant by the name of Tiopan Lunder has escaped his captivity and I would stick a dagger into his eye were I to find him!”

  “I have heard of this Lunder,” said Grumps. As the dockmaster, she heard almost every rumour and happening of note within the city.

  “I am hoping you can tell me if he has escaped these shores, snivelling and huddled ‘neath the deck of a departing ship.”

  “It is true that occasionally a wanted man escapes from Hardened, even on occasion from the docks which I oversee. However, there has not been a ship sailed to Casks for these past two months, owing to a souring in relations between Hardened and Meugh’s kingdom.”

  Skulks was relieved, for he didn’t want to come across Lunder unawares when he was conducting his affairs in Casks. Equally, he wanted a chance to bring the rogue wizard to justice and was hopeful that Lunder, in his hubris, would turn up at the Wizards’ Convention which Skulks hoped he’d be back in time to visit. Not that the Wielder planned to be standing in the audience clapping the splendour of the delegates, but he’d certainly be rifling through their rooms in search of evidence to incriminate them in any crimes they might or might not have taken part in. While it was definitely not the official policy of Hardened, Skulks considered that wizards and mages were not welcome in the city. If there were such a thing as an innocent wizard, Skulks may grudgingly have accepted their right to come and go unmolested by the officer of his department, but if there were indeed such a thing as an innocent wizard he had yet to find one.

  “I am relieved by your confidence Lady Grumps, for this Lunder has been strongly implicated in murders, vile summons and an attempt on my very life!”

  “I have been availed of this information, Mr Skulks and rest assured if I come across the wizard I will notify the relevant people.” She paused briefly. “And if he tries any of his tricks on my docks, please be assured that he will be leaving here with at least one heavy limp.”

  Skulks was slightly placated by this news, though he thought that Dockmaster Grumps may be threate
ning a foe beyond her capabilities.

  He left her office and made his way over towards the Hardened’s Reach. By now it was slightly overdue its departure, for there was an important passenger missing, that being Tan Skulks, who had dillied and dallied slightly too long in Grumps’ office. The captain was relieved to see Skulks, for he didn’t want to shoulder the blame for another man’s tardiness. As captain of this important ship, he felt himself to be equally ranked with the head of Hardened’s Office of Covert Operations, so made his displeasure known.

  “We could have missed the bloody tide because of you!”

  “I apologise, Captain,” said Skulks smoothly, “but I was in important discourse with sweet Lady Grumps about matters of state. Matters that will directly bear upon the outcome of our visit to Rhult!”

  The captain huffed and puffed a little, but he was a practical man and knew that it was better to have friends than enemies.

  “Welcome aboard, Captain Skulks,” said he. “I’m Captain Salty Winkle.” He gave Skulks a wide grin. “My father loved the sea and my mother was too much in love to refuse him when he told her what I should be named.” Skulks chuckled, for the humour was shown in friendship.

  “How long will it take to reach Casks?”

  “Twelve days. Ten with a fair wind.” Skulks mentally totted up the number of days until the Wizards’ Convention.

  “Can you do it in nine? I have wizards I need to arrest.”

  “Wizards is it? There’s only one good place for a wizard, and that’s over the side! We’ll make all haste!” By now, Skulks liked Captain Winkle very much. He was distracted from further manly bonding by two figures arriving on deck, one of whom was expected and the other of whom was not.

  “Chamber Member Spout!” cried Skulks in semi-dismay. “What are you doing here?”