Thief in the Myst (The Master Thief Book 2)

by Ben Hale

  Skorn twisted and plunged his sword into the ground. The magic pulled on his body, lifting him into the air as it attempted to pull him in. He roared in helpless fury as it passed over him, and dropped onto the ground swept free of snow. As the ground beneath him cracked and tumbled into the ball of fire, he fought to put distance from the knife.

  Wind howled as it was sucked inside the vortex. The battlements cracked and shattered, battering into the bodies of dead cultists as its pieces flew inside the tightening sphere. Great wooden beams that had stood for ages snapped like sticks and crumbled, groaning as they compressed inward.

  Metal shrieked as if in pain, rending in half and folding inward, unable to withstand the titanic pressure. The lower jaw of the fortress cracked off and collapsed, falling into the churning sphere, shredding into bits of unrecognizable stone.

  The epicenter began to harden, drawing all the broken elements into a lump. The sphere of light continued to contract, shrieking as it compressed the ball tighter and tighter. The light gathered the last of the material and then touched the ball—and detonated into oblivion.

  Jack shielded his eyes from the searing light. When it faded he lowered his arm and gazed upon the devastated fortress. The eyes and upper teeth remained but everything below it was gone. The cliff had cracked across it, making it resemble a broken skull.

  A perfect sphere had been cut into the earth and cliff, and snow was quick to fall onto the steaming rock. As silence fell upon the canyon Skorn stared at the gaping hole beneath the remains of the citadel.

  He was on his knees at the edge of the crater, his skin and clothing burned and smoking. Burns spotted his face as he stumbled to his feet and rotated to face Jack. The shock on his features caused Jack to smile grimly.

  “Urthor sends his regards.”

  Black rage twisted Skorn’s features and distorted his voice as he spoke. “You and your smug smile,” he said. “You think this means you are triumphant? I have outlived millions of your kind, and you are nothing but an insect to me.”

  “Even insects can kill,” Jack said.

  Skorn straightened and stabbed a finger at him. “Within a week you will have a bounty on your head so great that every assassin and thug in Lumineia will come for you. I will not need to kill you. Your own kind will hunt you down and cut you to pieces!”

  He surged into a sprint, causing Jack to draw his dagger. Instead Skorn darted around him and sprinted down the canyon. Thorvaldur swung his warhammer but Skorn slid beneath, twisting and ducking beneath the other troll’s weapons. Korna came close enough to rip his cloak free but Skorn did not slow. Weaving his way through the trolls he burst into the open and raced down the canyon. His roar echoed back to them.

  “You’ll be dead in a month, Jack!”

  Thorvaldur called out to the other trolls and they came to a halt, giving up the attempt to catch him. Then he turned to Jack. As he casually wiped the blood from his face a faint smile spread on his features.

  “I admit I was uncertain what you intended for us. If your foes did not merit death, we planned on killing you.”

  “You assume you could.”

  The trolls laughed, and Korna said, “Spoken like a troll.”

  “We are not foes this day,” Thorvaldur said when his humor subsided. “But that does not make us allies. We are not in the practice of contracting with thieves.”

  Jack arced an eyebrow, realizing for the first time that the trolls knew exactly who he was. “Why did you come?”

  “Margauth,” Korna said. “When I spoke to High Captain Arana I learned of Skorn’s citadel, and the rumors regarding his return. I also learned of a certain nemesis named Jack Myst.”

  “I decided this cult deserved a visit,” Thorvaldur said, and a faint smile appeared on his face. “We didn’t come for you.”

  “Nevertheless,” Jack said. “I proclaim your contract complete.”

  Thorvaldur grinned. “It was you that stole the information from my Tryton’s office.”

  “Would you kill me if I admit it?” Jack asked, his lips twitching.

  “You do not have to,” Thorvaldur said. “But I suspect there is a steward somewhere that is very confused, and I’m certain Tryton and Kythira will not be pleased when they learn what you have done. I would suggest you steer clear of our lands for the next decade . . . or two.”

  Jack sheathed his dagger and inclined his head. “Have a safe journey, my friends.”

  Korna laughed at his choice of words and gestured to where Skorn had fled. “I’ve seen many an enemy, and I can guess what it will take to stop him. Are you certain you can handle it alone?”

  Jack thought of his friends. “I have my own allies,” he said. “And I will make certain Skorn does not succeed.”

  “Farewell, thief,” Thorvaldur said. “I can honestly say it has been a pleasure.”

  “I can say the same,” Jack said, and inclined his head.

  He raised his hand in farewell but remained in place as the trolls turned and departed. Feigning a desire to linger, he turned to the ruined fortress and waited until the trolls were gone. Then he withdrew the tiny mirror from his side and activated the Gate. The silver liquid flowed into place and shimmered.

  Jack took one step toward it but hesitated. A sly smile crossed his face when he thought of how useful such a tool would be—if no one knew he had it. The Gate would only connect to the thief guildhalls, but it could prove an invaluable secret. He looked at the icy road winding through the falling snow and groaned at the prospect of the freezing journey back. Reluctantly he extinguished the mirror’s magic and pocketed it. Then he turned and hurried to catch up to the trolls. He had a long journey to reach the Evermist.

  Chapter 45: Guildmaster

  Jack trudged out of the canyon and into a deserted Hilltop. The cultists had abandoned the region, leaving the villagers to weather the storm alone. They seemed more than content and Jack noticed many dressed in expensive furs.

  Cursing the absence of a rentable steed, Jack pressed on through the muddy road. For a week he hiked through the early snows across forest and hill until he passed into Talinor. He stopped in Wedge, indulging for two days to warm his bones. Located in the southeastern tip of Talinor, the city straddled the border.

  Once he was refreshed he exited the Talinorian section of the city and passed through the gate into the Evermist. The guards stared at him in astonishment as he casually strode into the mist. Although the city was cold and dusted in snow, the swamp retained much of its warmth, and Jack relished the heat as he made his way to the Thieves Guildhall in the depths of the Evermist.

  Many times Jack considered using the Gate, but each time managed to resist the impulse. With a sigh of relief, he raised the bridge and strode across it. Before he’d made it halfway Beauty appeared and sprinted to him.

  “We thought you were dead!” she cried, wrapping her arms about his neck.

  He grunted in chagrin, realizing for the first time that his friends would have expected him to come through the Gate a fortnight ago. When he did not appear they would have thought the worst.

  “The Gate was destroyed when I fought Skorn,” Jack said smoothly. “And I had no other way of reaching you.”

  She led him back into the Thieves Guild but barely made it a dozen steps before a crowd of thieves surrounded him. Shouting and laughing, they clamored for answers, which Jack provided. Starting with when he’d pushed Beauty through the Gate, he finished the tale of his victory over Skorn.

  His description of the trolls fighting on his behalf drew a round of guffaws and more laughter. When he finished, Beauty shouted for order and promised them a retelling later in the day. Then she pulled him through the crowd and led him to the guildmaster’s office. Jack stepped in to find Thalidon talking to his brother, but his eyes swept the office that had formerly been Lorelia’s.

  His gaze settled on the desk and sadness tightened his chest. In spite of her faults, Lorelia had been an excellent guildmaster,
yet none had known the truth about her. The papers were stacked neatly, with some still awaiting a signature that would never come.

  Jack thought of Skorn and his jaw clenched. Before he may have fought Skorn to spite him, but now the ancient had made it personal. He’d manipulated Jack’s friends and killed Lorelia. He needed to be punished, and Jack wanted to be the one to serve it. Then the dwarves noticed Jack and approached, so Jack forced a smile.

  Beauty caught the guard at the door. “Summon Gordon, Ursana, Forlana, and since Kuraltus is in Woodhaven, Slyver.”

  “As you order,” the guard said, and slipped away.

  Jack heard their exchange from the depths of a crushing embrace from Thalidon. When Jack finally managed to extricate himself from the dwarf’s embrace Roarthin caught him and did the same. Surprised by the emotion from the taciturn dwarf, he struggled to free himself.

  “You should have done this to Skorn,” Jack said, his voice strained. “He couldn’t have done much with a crushed spine.”

  Roarthin released him with a hearty laugh and slapped him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him from his feet.

  “How did you escape his clutches again?” he boomed.

  Jack opened his mouth to respond but Beauty cut him off. “Not yet. When the others get here you can tell your tale again—and then you can include what you omitted.”

  Thalidon groaned at that. “A dead friend walks through the door and you make us wait?”

  Beauty grinned at his dismay. “Be patient, dwarf. You aren’t the only one that thought him dead.”

  “Does no one have faith in me?” Jack asked, folding his arms.

  Ursana appeared in the doorway with a smile on her lips. “I insisted you were alive. They did not believe me.”

  “How could we?” Gordon asked, and strode forward to clasp Jack’s hand. “Last we saw, you faced an ancient and our traitor guildmaster.”

  Slyver and Forlana appeared behind them. Slyver grunted at Jack’s appearance and leaned against the wall.

  “So Jack Myst survives again,” he said sourly.

  Jack laughed at his tone. “You’re just jealous we didn’t invite you.”

  Slyver glared at him and then released an explosive breath. “Perhaps your words have more truth than I care to admit.”

  “You served him for years,” Beauty said. “You can understand why we thought you might follow him.”

  “Yet you trusted Lorelia,” he said acidly. “And she betrayed you all.”

  At the mention of their guildmaster, Forlana turned to Jack. “Did she survive?”

  Jack’s smile faded and he shook his head. In the ensuing silence he told the tale of Lorelia’s final act to save his life, and of his escape from Margauth. He finished by detailing the devastation from Urthor’s cursed knife.

  “An implosion hex?” Thalidon asked, his bushy eyebrows climbing on his forehead.

  Roarthin grunted in appreciation. “Such a curse is beyond us, and few of our race possess the ability to cast it.”

  Beauty shook her head. “I still do not understand why Lorelia betrayed us. Of anyone in the guild, I thought we could trust her.”

  “Skorn promised her what she desired most,” Jack said quietly. “And she believed him.”

  “What did she desire?” Beauty asked.

  Jack hesitated, reluctant to reveal Lorelia’s secret. “What none of us could give her,” Jack said, deciding it best for them to remember her as the strong, beautiful elf she had been.

  When it became clear he would say no more, Gordon gestured to him. “That still doesn’t explain why he went through all this trouble in the first place. What did you get from the Eternals?”

  He laughed as he realized that none of them knew about the Vault of the Eternals. Deciding it didn’t matter now, he started with his ascent to the Irilian Shield and told of his entrance and escape from the vault.

  “You met Ero?” Slyver asked. “The same god who gave magic to the races in the Dawn of Magic?”

  “He’s not a god,” Jack replied. “But he is one of the ancient race.”

  “The ancients?” Forlana asked. “What do they have to do with this?”

  “Skorn is one as well,” Beauty said.

  Disbelief washed over Forlana and Slyver, and Slyver jerked his head. “It’s just a name. The ancients perished in their civil war during the Dawn of Magic.”

  “I wish that were true,” Gordon said, his tone turning dark. “But it isn’t. Anyone who has witnessed how that man fights knows he is anything but human.”

  Slyver opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. Jack saw the doubt on his face, and recalled that the skilled swordsman had dueled Skorn several times when the ancient had been their guildmaster. Each time he had obliterated Slyver with inhuman skill.

  “It cannot be,” he said, but his voice betrayed him and he issued a growl.

  “If what you say is true,” Forlana said. “Then why did he want the beacon?”

  “To contact the rest of his people,” Jack said. “Or at least that’s what he claimed.”

  “There are more of them?” Slyver asked. “Where? If there was an army of ancients running around, surely someone would have seen it.”

  “We’re assuming there even is one,” Ursana said. “It’s possible that they are simply deluded brothers that think their people still exist. Did you see any others in the vault?”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s possible,” he said, recalling the clarity in Ero’s eyes. “But I do not think so.”

  “So you believe in a fallen god?” Slyver asked with a sneer.

  “I trust my instincts,” Jack said, a trace of irritation in his voice.

  “Then what do we do now?” Ursana asked. “Does he still pose a threat to the guild without the beacon?”

  “We’ve considered him dead before,” Thalidon said, “and he manipulated our guildmaster into betraying our guild. Thinking he is gone is a dangerous assumption.”

  “He’s right,” Beauty said.

  “I thought you said you weren’t a thief,” Forlana said, fighting a smile.

  “I’m not,” Beauty said. “But I want to see this through. By now you all know he killed my sister.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re staying,” Thalidon said. “But you aren’t the only one that said you weren’t a thief.” He shifted to face Jack, as did the rest of them.

  Feeling the weight of their curiosity, Jack flashed a wry smile. “Over the last few months I’ve come to realize just how much I enjoy this occupation. I think I’ll keep it.”

  Ursana’s smile was matched by nearly everyone in the room. “You’re staying?”

  “For now,” Jack said.

  Beauty and Thalidon exchanged a look, and Thalidon nodded. Then Beauty said, “We did not know Lorelia was dead, but we knew she had betrayed us. Shortly after our return we decided who would replace her. Although several names were suggested, one in particular stood out.”

  Unable to contain her excitement, Ursana began to laugh. “They picked you—if you survived.” She stabbed a finger at the guildmaster’s desk. “It’s yours now.”

  He peaked an eyebrow. “You want me to be responsible for the guild? I’m not exactly the responsible type.”

  “Perhaps,” Beauty said with smile. “But you’ve also proven capable of leadership. And right now, we need someone capable of defeating Skorn.”

  Jack released an irritated sigh but could not refute the logic behind it. The Thieves Guild needed a leader to go against Skorn, and Jack had proven twice that he could do it. But could he do it a third time? Lorelia came to mind, and his doubt hardened into resolve.

  He recalled how it had felt to have the assistance of the rock trolls. Having allies had made the difference between victory and defeat. As much as he was reluctant to take on the responsibility of leading the guild, he recognized the merit to the idea.

  “Two conditions,” he finally said.

  “What’s that?” Slyver
asked, folding his arms.

  “No paperwork,” he said, his lips curling in disgust.

  “I’ll handle it,” Forlana said with a smile. “I did enough under Guildmaster Lorelia that I know how it works.”

  “And the second condition?” Beauty asked.

  “Roarthin and Thalidon stay until Skorn is dealt with.”

  Roarthin issued a grunt of surprise. “You want us to stay? Why?”

  “Because I need your magic for what I am planning,” Jack said.

  The dwarves exchanged a look, and then Thalidon shrugged. “It’s your choice.”

  Roarthin grinned and swept his hands wide. “It appears we get to be thieves for a little while longer.”

  “So you’re agreed?” Ursana asked.

  Jack relented with a sigh. “For now.”

  Ursana laughed and everyone but Slyver smiled. The smug tilt to Beauty’s expression caused his eyes to narrow.

  “Is that why you invited them?” Jack asked, gesturing to Slyver and Forlana. “So you would have a majority of higher ranked thieves to support me?”

  “Perhaps,” she said, causing a round of laughter from the others.

  “Then my first act as guildmaster is to ban all intrigue from the thieves.”

  “We’re thieves,” Slyver said with a snort of laughter. “You might as well order them to donate to the Church of Light . . . guildmaster.” His comment drew more laughter, and Jack joined in.

  “Wait,” Thalidon said when it subsided. “You said you need us for your plan. Just how do you intend on defeating a fallen god?”

  A smirk spread on Jack’s face. “We’ve been fighting him alone. Perhaps it’s time we have an ally, one who’s already defeated him.”

  “Who do you suggest?” Beauty asked.

  “The only way to defeat a god . . . is with a god.”

  “You cannot mean . . .”

  “Ero,” Jack said, his grin widening. “I say we steal a god.”