Thief in the Myst (The Master Thief Book 2)

by Ben Hale

  Roarthin grunted sourly. “He kept me in a cell for twenty years while he waited for a thief capable of stealing the ancient map. Time is meaningless to him.”

  “We can craft a plan on the way,” Lorelia said. “If we are close to Crossroads, we’re a fortnight from the citadel. We’ll have plenty of time to consider our options.”

  Jack buried his concerns beneath a smile and agreed. “The last bed I slept in was inside a dark elf prison.”

  “You know you enjoyed every minute,” Ursana said with a grin.

  He set off into the trees. “Guilty as charged,” he said. The others laughed.

  For the next few hours they worked their way through the darkened forest. Several times someone made a disparaging remark about Gordon’s sense of direction, but as the hour neared midnight they reached the edge of a large settlement.

  Built around a strategic intersection, Crossroads had grown from a collection of inns and taverns into a sprawling and disorganized city. Its position a few miles east of Terros made its population largely transient, with travelers and merchants headed to the middle cities, soldiers marching to the northern forts, or workers going to the mines in the south of Griffin. With winter fast approaching, the settlement was packed with individuals seeking to complete their business before snow blanketed the roads.

  The better inns were already full, forcing them to choose a seedy location at the edge of town. Jack nearly suggested they sleep on the ground but a gust of wind drove him into the leaning structure.

  The food was as bad as he’d expected, but at least the linens on the bed was clean. He slept well, and for the first time in months rose before dawn. Plodding downstairs, he was not surprised to find the others already eating. Even Gordon sat at a table drinking his morning cha and yawning. Jack slid into a seat beside him and took a roll from his plate.

  “Has anyone else grown tired of chasing these blasted keys?” he asked, his mouth muffled by the food.

  “We can’t just let him have them,” Lorelia protested.

  “We have to find them,” Beauty said, her jaw set in a firm line. “We must destroy them before Skorn gets whatever he’s after.”

  “You assume they can be destroyed,” Roarthin said with a grunt.

  “Everything can be destroyed,” Ursana said.

  The dwarf cast her an appraising look. “True,” he relented, “but objects of ancient make have defied time and effort to break them.”

  “I destroyed the map,” Jack said, and briefly shared the tale of the map Skorn had sought, including when he had tossed it to the vintor. “I watched it snap into sparks and bits of nothing,” he finished. “I’m certain the keys could be destroyed—unless you are saying we’ve found something even a dwarf cannot break.”

  Thalidon smirked at the challenge. “Your map aside, most relics that remain from the Dawn of Magic do so because they were made to endure. I suspect the keys are such artifacts.”

  “You shouldn’t have kept it on you,” Beauty said.

  Jack laughed and signaled the barmaid for a meal. “That’s what I said. A smart thief stashes the assignment if he thinks he’ll be caught.”

  “You never think you’ll be caught,” Beauty said shrewdly.

  “Did you have it on you in Cliffwatch?” Gordon asked, causing the table to go quiet.

  Jack’s eyes flicked to a tiny scar on Ursana’s neck, a legacy of Gallow’s attempt to kill her. “I almost threw it into the sea, but couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “You should have,” Ursana muttered. “Let him go swimming for it.”

  Her comment eased the sudden tension. Lorelia’s brow furrowed in thought, and then she shook her head. “To do so would have been terribly shortsighted.”

  “How is throwing Skorn’s desire into the ocean shortsighted?” Beauty countered.

  “Because everything that is hidden eventually comes to light,” she replied. “It may not be in the next few years—or even in our lifetimes—but Skorn would find it. Do not forget he has lived for over forty thousand years. What’s a few decades to someone like him?”

  Jack grunted in exasperation. “Then what do we do once we get the keys?”

  “We find a place even he cannot go,” Lorelia said, a smile playing across her features.

  “But the only place he cannot go is . . .” Jack’s eyes widened. “. . . the vault.”

  “What do you mean?” Beauty asked.

  “We get the keys and open the vault,” Jack said. “Then we toss the keys in and let it shut.”

  His smile widened as he imagined leaving the keys in the one place Skorn could not get to. The man would be trapped outside the vault for eons, knowing that what he sought lay just beyond the door.

  “I think you just want to steal from the Vault of the Eternals,” Roarthin said, skewering him with a look.

  “There would be no harm in taking a peak,” Jack said with a smile. “Then I drop the keys and walk out.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Beauty said. “What if you end up stealing the very thing he wants?”

  Ursana laughed. “Why does Jack get to enter the vault and not me?” Her eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “Because it was my idea,” Jack reasoned.

  A chorus of protests erupted, drawing irritated looks from the other patrons. Lorelia was quick to quiet them before they drew too much attention, and then leaned in. A smile crossed her flawless features and her eyes flicked to Jack.

  “We get the keys,” she said. “And then we find out exactly what lies within this vault, together.”

  Roarthin shocked his brother by slamming a fist onto the table. “You’re fools.”

  Thalidon glared at him. “Why say that?”

  “Because seated at this table are the best of thieves in Lumineia,” he said. “And he will want to use one of you to get into the vault. You’re playing into his hands.”

  “Only if we get caught,” Jack said.

  Roarthin turned on him with a vengeance. “This is the time for caution.”

  “I know,” Jack interrupted with an annoyed sigh. “I’m not a fool.”

  Roarthin was on his feet. “Luck has kept us alive for now, but luck never holds. Even for you, Jack.” He turned and stomped away.

  When he was gone Beauty nodded. “He’s right. We can’t expect to walk into Margauth and steal what he’s been seeking for ages.”

  “Why not?” Jack asked. “We’re thieves, after all, and as Roarthin said, some of the best.”

  “Your arrogance knows no bounds,” Beauty said to Jack, her tone biting enough that the humor faded from the table.

  Stung, Jack folded his arms. “We can’t very well leave him with the keys. Lorelia’s right, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

  “Don’t pretend you care about the world.”

  A thief has no honor.

  Jack’s mother’s words came back in force but Jack shoved them away. “Perhaps I do,” he said.

  She glared at him before rising to her feet. “It may be a game to you, but our lives hang in the balance.”

  Jack made to argue but she stalked to the door and left. His anger rising, Jack followed her into the street and caught up to her. When he grabbed her arm she yanked it free and spun to face him.

  “You risk your life like it does not matter,” she growled. “But even you cannot think you can survive forever.”

  “You don’t have to come,” he replied heatedly. “We don’t need you.”

  “I’m not going to abandon you,” she said. “Unlike you, I actually care about my friends and—for reasons I cannot fathom—you.”

  She turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Jack standing in the empty street. He watched her retreating form, angry and confused. Then Beauty turned a corner and Jack lost sight of her. He released an explosive breath and trudged back to the inn, but her words would not be dismissed. As they embarked on their journey he began to wonder if she was right.

  An
d if he was leading his friends into an ambush.

  Chapter 32: Hilltop

  They worked their way south and then east to reach the southern tip of Griffin. As they neared the border Jack began to notice an increase in travelers on the road. The change was almost imperceptible, but the occasional merchant or traveler became groups of two or three. Few were dressed as workmen returning from a season in the mines. They tried to hide it, but their expressions were excited for no apparent reason.

  He noticed a woman riding behind them. Her gaze passed over him, dismissing him as if he didn’t matter. He realized the woman knew he wasn’t a member of the cult, but could not hazard a guess as to how. Smiling blandly at them, Lorelia passed them and took the first turn in view of the cultists. Once they had passed on, Lorelia shook her head.

  “We are known by too many,” she said. “We should split up and enter Hilltop under guise.”

  She pointed to the sign at the crossroads, Hilltop 6 miles. A second sign sat below it, the wood rotted and the lettering barely discernible. Jack squinted and managed to make out, Margauth 18 miles.

  Jack pulled the reins toward the forest. “Watch out for Gallow.”

  Lorelia grunted in agreement and led her horse in another direction. The thieves slipped into the forest and Jack made his way alone. He found a trail and followed it toward the village, arriving shortly before nightfall.

  Jack spotted a hut outside the village and took a set of woodsman’s clothing. Slipping into the persona of a woodsman, he wiped grease from the hut’s equipment and darkened his features. Then he added a scar on his cheek. Leaving the horse at the hut, he strode into the village and made his way to the sole tavern.

  He doubted he would find a room but strode inside anyway. After some sharp elbowing he managed to find a small corner table. Feigning weariness, he listened to the talk wafting across the establishment. Beauty he spotted first, although she was far less attractive. She sat at the bar dressed in drab clothing, her hair soiled and her cheeks stained. Several wrinkled their nose as they came close to her, indicating she’d used smell to add to her persona.

  He spotted Thalidon and Roarthin when they entered dressed as miners. They took a seat across the tavern. Jack withdrew a piece of parchment and scribbled indecipherable notes on it but he needn’t have bothered. The villagers assumed he was part of the sudden influx of travelers, while the cult members assumed he was a villager.

  He learned a great deal just by listening. The village veritably bustled with cult members journeying to Margauth. The confused village members struggled to cater to their demands, and many of the poorer families rented out their own beds, opting to sleep in the barn in order to make extra coin. Hilltop sat on the road to the southern mines, but it was also the last stop on the road to Margauth.

  A few hours later Lorelia walked into the tavern with two companions. In the depths of a human merchant’s guise he almost didn’t recognize her, but there was no mistaking Gordon. The man lacked any talent for subterfuge, and hardly looked different from earlier in the day.

  Ursana had donned the persona of their daughter. She was seventeen but her persona made her look younger. Her gaze slid over Jack twice before she recognized him, and a slight smile crossed her features. She nudged Lorelia and the trio made their way to his table.

  “With this crowd we’ll have to conduct our business outside,” Jack said loudly.

  Lorelia cursed the crowd and stabbed a finger toward the door. “After you.”

  Jack led them out of the tavern and into the forest. A short distance away they came to an abandoned shed. Slipping inside, Jack drew a candle from his pack and then shut the door, plunging them into darkness. With his sparklight he lit the candle. The illumination revealed a squat hut that smelled faintly of mold. A makeshift cot sat on one side, while rusted farm equipment hung on the wall.

  Jack relaxed against the wall. “As you can see, cult members are flocking to Margauth. Apparently Skorn has made an impression.”

  “He’s gathering his forces,” Lorelia said. “I’ve spotted a fair number of soldiers and weapons trainers heading up the pass.”

  Gordon slipped onto the cot. “It’s been a hard road. Any chance we can sleep before we start all this?”

  “Perhaps,” Jack said, “but this is no normal assignment, and we need to stay sharp.”

  “Is that a trace of caution I hear?” Lorelia asked.

  Reluctant to admit his concerns, Jack forced a smile. “I relish a challenge—and stealing from a devil worshiping cult qualifies as one.”

  “We’re ready for Skorn,” Ursana said, her face set.

  She flicked a bulge in her pack. Her crossbow emitted a dull whine in response, as if it too was eager for the fight. Jack peaked an eyebrow at her but her smile widened.

  “I had a mage add a charm while we passed through Torridin. I haven’t had the chance to use it yet.”

  “How much did that cost you?” Lorelia asked.

  “Too much,” Gordon said.

  “It was worth it,” she said defensively. “Looks like we’re facing a thousand cultists.”

  Gordon gave a sour laugh. “He took on the persona of a fallen god—which he actually is. Evil or not, the man has style.”

  “Regardless,” Jack said, “it will be nigh impossible to get in.”

  Lorelia’s eyes glowed in the firelight. “You have a plan.”

  “Of course,” Jack said, and a sly grin spread on his features. “But I don’t think Gordon will like it.”

  The man frowned. “Is this going to get me killed?”

  “Only if you don’t run fast enough,” Jack said, and laid out his plan.

  Gordon’s expression darkened. “I don’t—”

  “I like it,” Lorelia said. “If we depart in the morning, we should reach Margauth at nightfall. I’ll let the others know the plan.” She put her hands together and fashioned three spiders. They glowed to life and dropped to the floor, skittering under the door and into the night.

  “But—”

  “Relax,” Ursana said. “I’m sure you’ll outrun them.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Gordon grumbled.

  “Rest while you can,” Jack said. “We’ll head up the canyon at nightfall.”

  In spite of his words Gordon was asleep in seconds. Lorelia remained awake for some time, her expression reflecting an internal conflict. Jack met her eyes but she looked away, her features tightening with sudden regret. Jack wanted to ask what troubled her, but since Ursana was still awake he chose to respect her silence. Shortly after, fatigue got the best of her, and she fell asleep reclining in the chair. When it became clear that Ursana would not rest, Jack pointed to Gordon.

  “He really cares about you,” he said quietly.

  “You shouldn’t have left.”

  Surprised by the harsh statement, he shrugged. “I needed answers—answers that wouldn’t be found in the Thieves Guild.”

  “Did you ever want to be a thief?”

  “No,” Jack replied.

  “You can’t deny what you are, Jack.”

  Jack was on his feet. “Why do you care?”

  “Because the guild is a family,” Ursana said. “And you are part of it. You may not want the guild, but it needs you.”

  The force behind her words bound his tongue, and caused Lorelia to grunt in irritation. “If you’re going to argue, go outside,” she said.

  “I’ll take watch,” Jack said, and escaped outside before Ursana could object. Once in the trees he climbed to a vantage point. From there he watched the gloomy forest and struggled to contain his anger. He half expected her to follow him but the door did not open. Too keyed up to sleep, Jack remained in the tree until midnight. Then he woke Gordon to take his place.

  At dawn they gathered their things and slipped into the trees. Jack guided them past the thick trunks until he reached the road. Foregoing the open ground, they advanced parallel to it until the trees came to an end. Then they used t
he shadows to hide. An hour later the dwarves appeared and Jack stepped from the trees. Turning up the canyon, he hiked up the gravel road. Thalidon and Roarthin kept their distance, suggesting they were two parties rather than one. He caught glimpses of Beauty on the mountain above.

  The wind whistled about them, haunting and sinister as if warning them of their path. Jack shivered within his shaden, irritated that he could not shake his worry. Several times they encountered cultists, but they were quick to dodge behind the many boulders strewn about the pass.

  They hiked throughout the day and still the canyon continued. Grey stone rose on either side, climbing to the heavens. Patches of snow were visible on the peaks above, and icicles dotted the stone where the snow had melted.

  The sun sunk toward the horizon at their back, falling behind a mountain and robbing the pass of warmth. Nightfall came quickly, leaving them hiking beneath the starry sky. Shortly after sunset they reached the fortress.

  The road curved and Margauth came into view. Situated in the cleft between two peaks, the fortress looked down upon the road’s terminus. A great wall spanned the canyon, separating the road from the sprawling courtyard.

  Jack’s gaze was drawn to the features of the citadel. The massive jaws and teeth made the mountain look like it caged a beast within the stone. The enormous eyes were tilted in fury, glowing with light from the interior. Although Jack heard the clank of armor and the whisper of voices, the fortress lay disturbingly quiet.

  Instead of elven light orbs, the exterior wall was lit with green torches, the flames as tall as a man. They crackled and sparked, the fires shifting between various scenes of Skorn’s life. They also illuminated the road below, preventing anyone from approaching without being seen.

  The firelight reflected off the gaping jaws of the citadel, simmering in the eyes and making the beast appear more visceral. Bathed in green light, the cliffs surrounding the fortress seemed to shift and move, their contours conforming with the shadows.

  Green-cloaked figures patrolled the battlements of the courtyard wall, their numbers suggesting they were expecting a conflict. The glint of steel was visible, revealing the many weapons in easy reach. Eschewing the pool of light, the thieves slipped behind a cracked boulder to examine their target. A moment later Beauty dropped down to join them.