Thief in the Myst (The Master Thief Book 2)

by Ben Hale

  He smiled as he saw the names and the information regarding their background. Some contained the names of high ranking craftsmen and nobles in neat, flowing script. He found a bundle of requests that had come from Terros. Each contained High Captain Arana’s seal of approval, and a handful had been confirmed by King Tryton. He spotted several that indicated they would be visiting Astaroth, but one name stood out from the others.

  Telorias Vanderl, a minor lord from southeastern Terros, had requested a temporary contract to help him rid his region of bandits. Both Arana and Tryton had approved the request, and were expecting a steward to arrive within the next fortnight to lead the trolls to his lord’s home.

  Jack scanned the record for any other relevant clues, memorizing what he needed before carefully returning the bundle to its location. Just as he placed the rest of the parchment on top he heard the soft rub of a boot on stone. He scowled in irritation and pulled the top sheet from the pile before slipping it into a pouch at his side, keeping his back to her.

  “I do not care for thieves in my home.”

  Kythira’s words trembled with rage but Jack did not turn. He deepened his voice and added a rasp to his tone.

  “I meant your family no harm,” he said.

  “Your presence is the harm.”

  She took a step toward him but he pulled his last darkstone from his pocket and flicked it against the wall. It shattered, and every shred of light throughout the king’s quarters was drawn into it, plunging the room into darkness.

  Jack ducked and spun but she was faster. Even robbed of sight she sent a wave of air into his body, slamming him into the wall. He sucked in his breath as pain lanced through his body. Then he forced himself to his feet and rolled behind the desk. As she charged toward him he cast his shadowhook at the ceiling and wrapped it around the corner of the desk, activating the magic.

  The thread of ink went taut, yanking the end of the desk off the floor. It smashed into her and broke apart, stunning her for the precious moment he needed to slip into the training room.

  Starlight filtered into the space, giving him just enough light to spot a young rock troll across from him. He raised a sword with a hammer on the end and charged. Jack dived to the floor and rolled, barely avoiding catching the hammerblade in his face. He came to his feet and drew his dagger. Although clearly young, the troll was his size, and fought with a skill that far surpassed his own.

  “Andric! Flank him!”

  After everything he’d been through, the idea of being caught and killed by a rock troll child was so absurd he began to laugh. His amusement drew the anger of the son and the boy grunted in irritation.

  “You find your death amusing, thief?”

  Jack swerved as another blast of air came at him. “You’ve trained him well, Kythira. You should be proud.”

  “You are not permitted to speak about my child!”

  Although the room was dark the trolls fought as if they could see, and Andric’s hammerblade reached for his body. A gust of air came at his back, driving him into the weapon. Jack just managed to get his dagger in the way before it sliced into his heart. Then Kythira struck him with a fist like stone, sending him tumbling toward the balcony. He clutched his side and rose to his feet to find both trolls coming at him, their forms swift and deadly in the darkened room.

  “It’s been a pleasure,” he said in his raspy voice. “But I must be going.”

  The boy came to a halt and raised his weapon. Just as he charged Jack dropped his lightstone on the ground. It shattered into a blinding light, causing the trolls to shield their eyes. They recovered quickly and darted forward.

  But the balcony was empty.

  Kythira raced to the balcony and looked down, shouting for aid before whirling and returning inside. Clinging to the underside of the balcony Jack wrapped his shadowhook around his waist and sprinted down the slope. Dodging balconies and pools of light, slowed his fall enough that he didn’t slam into the porch of his room. Stumbling from the rough landing, he stripped his outer clothing and dived into the bed.

  He wiped the sweat away and controlled his breathing, willing his heart to slow. Within a minute there was a knock at the door. Before he could move it crashed open and Thorvaldur barged in, waving at the lights to brighten. Jack started upright and blinked as if he’d been asleep, his eyes wide with alarm.

  “Is something amiss?”

  Thorvaldur searched the room and then strode to the door. “Just searching for a thief.”

  “I hope you catch him!” Jack called, a trace of anger in his voice.

  “We will,” Thorvaldur assured him before exiting.

  Korna gave Jack a curt nod before closing the door. Jack extinguished the lights again before allowing a smile to spread on his face. Then he lay down and listened to the sounds of rock trolls searching Astaroth. The smile remained until sleep claimed him.

  He half expected to awake to shackles, but the next thing he knew dawn shone into his eyes. He groaned and rolled from the bed, reluctantly dressing for the day. He probed his ribs where Kythira had hit him but it did not appear to be broken. It was already healing quickly, a legacy of his fallen panther.

  He realized he’d thought very little of Shadero in the recent months. It made him wonder what his life would have been like if the thieves had never killed his mother, and his panther had never died for him. What would he have become?

  He was saved from answering when a tray of food slid beneath the door. Grateful for the distraction, he retrieved it and brought it to the balcony. He relished the food and then gathered his things before knocking on the door. Instead of Korna it was Thorvaldur at the door, and the rock troll gestured for him to follow. As Jack ascended through the citadel with him, Jack looked about in wonder.

  “Did you catch your thief?”

  “Not yet,” Thorvaldur replied, glancing back at Jack. “But we’re still not sure why he came. It appears he stole meaningless records of trader purchases.”

  Privately Jack was glad he’d taken something so mundane. It would keep them confused until after he was gone. A moment later he entered a large office with walls of swirling wind. The female troll behind the desk looked up.

  “Thorvaldur said you were Alic, come to collect a contract?”

  “That’s correct,” he said with a disarming smile. “Telorias Vanderl dispatched me as his steward.”

  She rifled through the documents at her side and then produced one identical to the parchment Jack had seen on the previous night. She read the notes and then her gaze shifted to Thorvaldur.

  “A group of bandits needs to be dealt with. Are you certain you wish to go with him after last night?”

  Thorvaldur glanced down at him. “There are plenty of trolls hunting the thief. Besides, I’m curious about this human.”

  Drenuh nodded and shifted to face Jack. “Your contract allows you to take a single patrol of rock trolls, which will be led by Felshard Thorvaldur,” she inclined her head to the troll at Jack’s side. “He is contracted to you, but his patrol answers to him. They will not willfully cause harm, and if you seek to order them to do so, they will turn on you. Do you accept these conditions?”

  “Trust me,” Jack said. “The ones I seek deserve their fate.”

  “Very well,” she said, and picked up a pen before dipping it into a bottle of ink. “Where is the destination?”

  Jack saw no reason to lie so he spoke the truth. “Margauth.”

  Drenuh nodded. “Good luck with your bandits. I’m sure Thorvaldur will have no trouble with them.”

  Jack’s grin widened. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

  Chapter 42: The Thief in the Myst

  After leaving Astaroth they journeyed south to Blue Lake. From there they managed to secure an azure ship that would take them to Terros. The sailors seemed wary of the rock trolls but the trolls were well disciplined, and Jack guessed they had strict instructions from their king.

  Jack spent most of the time w
ith Thorvaldur, and the troll asked endless questions about the other kingdoms. Jack answered without breaking his persona. As the steward of a minor lord it was plausible that he had journeyed on his master’s behalf.

  A week after departing the northland they landed in Terros. Jack led the five trolls off the ship and they entered the city. Many of the citizens blanched at the huge trolls, with some outright fleeing at the sight. Jack hid a smile at their fear and wondered how long it would endure since King Tryton had forged a peace with Griffin.

  They entered the Gold District and worked their way through the shops. Then Thorvaldur turned north, toward the rock troll outpost. Recalling that the troll outpost was led by High Captain Arana—who Jack had met on his theft from the king—he shifted south.

  “If you don’t mind,” he said. “Time is still a factor. Perhaps we could we hasten our journey?”

  It was still afternoon, with plenty of time for them to begin their journey to Margauth. Still, Thorvaldur regarded him with a trace of doubt in his eyes. Then he nodded and gestured the others to follow Jack.

  “As you will,” he said. “I suggest you get a mount if you wish to keep up. Running with us for a single afternoon is one thing. Staying with us for several days is another.”

  His eyes flicked to Korna. “Get a horse for him and replenish our supplies. We’ll meet you at the east gate.”

  “I can get a horse myself,” Jack said.

  “Nonsense,” Thorvaldur said. “You have a contract, and we fulfill it.”

  The smile on his face did not reach his eyes, and Jack recognized he had no choice. He smiled in turn and rotated away—but noticed a flicker of motion in the corner of his eye. Thorvaldur made a series of hand signals to Korna. Although Jack did not know the meaning, he could guess the intent.

  He considered slipping away, but the trace of curiosity in Thorvaldur’s expression caused him to remain. If there was a chance the trolls would uphold the contract he was inclined to stay. Besides, he liked them, and enjoyed talking to Thorvaldur. Either way, staying with them would be exciting.

  If they didn’t kill him.

  Korna strode away and disappeared into the streets of Terros. Jack and the others headed for the eastern gate. The trolls had been open and talkative on the ship, but now they demonstrated a marked reservation. Out of the corner of his eye Jack noticed a flurry of hand signals between them. Shortly after reaching the gate Korna appeared holding the reins of a horse and carrying a large pack slung across her shoulders.

  Jack tensed, readying himself to bolt as Korna conversed silently with Thorvaldur. Jack stepped to the horse and mounted, praising Korna on her choice even as he surreptitiously watched them. Then Thorvaldur seemed to come to a conclusion and smiled, gesturing to the gate.

  “Lead the way, steward.”

  Jack sensed a reserve in the troll that had been absent before, but it seemed clear he wasn’t going to act on his suspicions, for now. Jack managed to restrain his smile and did as requested. Together they joined the crowd streaming from the city. Like sheep before a wolf they parted, giving the trolls a wide berth.

  “Do you always have such an impact on humans?” Jack asked.

  One of the other trolls released an amused grunt. “Not just humans.”

  Thorvaldur looked down at him. “Troll or man, we all sense the presence of a predator.”

  Jack grinned at the knowing look in the troll’s eyes. He doubted the troll knew he was a thief, but he clearly knew he wasn’t a lord’s steward. For whatever reason he had decided to go with Jack anyway, perhaps to discover his true motivations.

  “Predators are so much more interesting,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Korna grinned, the expression twisting the tattoos on her face. “Especially when you know what they hunt.”

  Jack smirked as Thorvaldur frowned and made a motion to her. She fell silent, speaking volumes to what they had revealed. Apparently the trolls were curious enough that they had decided to join him.

  “Tell us about Margauth,” Thorvaldur said.

  “What do you wish to know?”

  “Everything,” he replied. “For us, victory is decided before blades are drawn and blood spilt.”

  “And we like to know what bandits we will be killing,” Korna said.

  Thorvaldur cast her another warning look but Jack laughed. “These bandits are actually cult members that worship a man named Skorn.”

  “Like the devil from the ballad?”

  “He has taken on the identity of the devil,” Jack said, deciding it best not to say that it was true. “And has now taken the cult as his own.”

  “Tell me about their refuge,” Thorvaldur said.

  Jack settled into his saddle and began to describe the fortress of Margauth. As the days passed the trolls were relentless in their attempts to understand Skorn’s strength. By the time they crossed the southern border of Griffin, Jack understood that it wasn’t just the trolls’ stature that made them powerful, it was their intelligence.

  They camped in the forest several miles from Hilltop and Jack laid out his plan. At first the trolls disliked his suggestion, but by the time he was finished Thorvaldur bore a smile on his face. He leaned back and folded his arms.

  “It is not a tactic we would choose on our own, but there is an elegance to it that I find appealing.”

  “Are you certain?” Korna asked.

  “I am,” Thorvaldur replied, and turned to Jack. “I assure you, we’ll be ready.”

  “A smart man never doubts a troll.”

  His comment elicited a round of laughter from the others and then Jack rose to his feet. Gathering his gear, he nodded to them and slipped into the trees. For the next hour he worked his way through the forest until he reached the road that ascended into the mountain pass.

  Winter had arrived since he and Lorelia had departed for the Vault of the Eternals, and much of the ground lay covered in snow. The depths of the season had yet to arrive but the frigid air pierced his clothing. Stars twinkled between dark clouds. A few snowflakes fell, drifting in lazy patterns before joining the drifts on the ground. It muffled the sound of his footfalls.

  He found the cold and silence refreshing after months of conflict. In spite of what waited for him, a sense of peace permeated the canyon. He had not felt such a calm since before his mother had died, and he relished it, breathing deep of the crisp night air.

  As the minutes passed his smile faded. Instead of comforting, the stillness left him unsettled. His irritation mounted as he trudged through the snow, and he wondered how such a setting could inspire his reaction.

  He climbed higher in the mountains but his agitation did not abate. As he ascended, the storm thickened, blotting out the stars and driving snow into him. His smile returned as the blizzard struck him and he turned to face heaven’s fury. Then he realized his unease had evaporated, and been replaced with a sense of belonging. In the depths of the storm he began to laugh, and finally saw the truth.

  The stillness had been a welcome reprieve but it was not for him. The heat of the conflict is what he craved, the tension when creeping into a strongroom and stealing from those who had little thought for what they possessed.

  He liked the stars.

  But he lived for the storm.

  His smile returned, spreading across his features until it seemed to defy the bitter wind. He closed his eyes, relishing the blasting snow across his face. His mother had not wanted it for him, but he could not deny what he was.

  “I’m sorry,” he called to the heavens. “But I am a thief. By birth or choice, it’s what I am.”

  The storm howled as if in response of his avowal, and Jack grinned. He’d expected to feel guilt, but instead came a sudden sense of freedom, and in that instant he made a choice. He may be a thief, but perhaps he could live with the honor his mother had taught. He closed his eyes and for an eternal moment relished the storm lashing his form. Then he resumed his pace with renewed purpose.
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  The storm billowed through the pass and he fought against it, pushing his way through the snow until Margauth came into view. Blanketed in snow the great fortress seemed to roar into the storm’s fury. Pinpricks of fire dotted the battlements, the flickering light struggling in the wind.

  The gates groaned as they opened for him, pushing the snow into a drift to allow him passage. A pair of cultists greeted him, their expressions bright with excitement. Skorn stood behind them. Hundreds of cultists rushed into place, thickening their ranks as they craned for a better view.

  Gallow appeared and strode to Skorn’s side. His features twisted with hatred when he met Jack’s gaze, and his lips curled into a sneer. The blackness to his eyes matched the darkness of the storm above.

  “You surprise me, Jack,” Skorn said. “I expected another attempt to defy me.”

  Jack strode through the gates and the cultists parted for him. “I don’t care to be predictable. It takes the pleasure out of the game.” He met the gaze of a woman cultist and winked, eliciting a blush and then a scowl.

  “Did you retrieve it?” Skorn asked, licking his lips in anticipation.

  Jack reached into his pouch and lifted the back pyramid into view. “I always complete my assignments.”

  Gallow’s expression tightened and he looked about as if expecting an ambush. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Neither do I,” Skorn said, his eyes never leaving the beacon. “Search the pass and cliffs above. Cover every inch.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Jack said, a smile spreading on his face. “My allies are right behind me.”

  “You don’t have any allies,” Gallow said.

  “True,” Jack admitted, “but I’m not the only one that wants to defeat your master.”