“I’m betting you wouldn’t be so tough if I could see you with my eyes,” the champion taunts as he takes a few steps. Licking his lips, he gestures for Fizzle to handle the other guards and listens to the drite send them hurtling in various directions. “Once I open this trapdoor, I’m gone and you’re fired. So you may want to move quickly to stop me.”
Luke raises his saber as if to stab it into the wall, which causes the invisible woman to charge at full speed. The half-elf twists his wrist to embed his sword in the wooden club and spins to put his back to the guard. A knee to his side is all his enemy can do before the champion flips her over his shoulder and pins her against the wall with the heavy weapon. With most of his weight keeping the guard in a position where she has no leverage, Luke stabs his other saber into the space where the trapdoor switch is hidden.
With a subtle grinding noise, the floor falls away and the pair plunge into the darkness with Fizzle less than a second behind them. The door snaps shut with a loud click, blocking the other guards from following. Flickering torchlight appears around the adventurers and they can see that it is a longer fall than they expected. With the now visible woman and heavy club draped over his shoulder, Luke uses the last of the agility spell to bounce from one wall to the other until he reaches the ground. He lands awkwardly and fears that his ankle is twisted as he drops the guard, a sharp pain rippling up his leg. For her part, the loyal woman draws a dagger and moves to kill the half-elf, but she is immediately knocked out by Fizzle’s tail coming down on her head with a dull thud.
“Woman was tougher than she looked,” Luke says while opening his shirt. He reaches in to remove a glowing belt with four pouches that are made entirely out of shield spells. “We’re in the tunnels and I may have hurt my leg. Have to admit that this was not one of my favorite plans. I’m sorry I ever came up with it.”
Most of the other champions crawl out of the pouches, their bodies having been shrunk nearly an hour beforehand. Fizzle helps Timoran get free, the barbarian still snoring from the sleep spell required to put his lingering fears at ease. While Luke moves the unconscious guard to the corner, Nyx undoes her enchantment and nearly collapses from the strain. Only vaguely experienced with size alteration spells, the channeler has spent the entire ordeal stressing and worrying about the change being permanent. Upon seeing that she did not make a mistake, she finds her muscles are numb from the wave of relief.
“It was a crazy plan, but that’s your specialty,” Delvin says while bending down to touch Luke’s leg. White energy moves from his fingers to the half-elf’s ankle, which feels tight as it is repaired. “That should do it since I don’t plan on using my powers for a while. All about pacing myself and restraint. I’ll take the lead now. Timoran stays in the rear, Fizzle remains invisible, and Sari keeps an eye out for traps. Oh, and Luke will scan for movement, which means I want him behind me.”
“What should I do?” Nyx asks, mildly annoyed that she was not mentioned. She crosses her arms when her fiancée avoids eye contact and tries to walk by her. “You’ve been short or silent with me all morning. What’s wrong? I’m not going any further unless you tell me why you’re angry.”
“Because you started talking about having to kill Dariana last night,” the warrior responds, hoping his bluntness will stop the argument. He tightens the straps of his shield, which he notes is reflecting faint rainbow lights across the walls. “She’s in trouble and you spoke about her betraying us. That’s something I never thought you’d do. Just having trouble coming to terms with your paranoia.”
“I don’t know what came over me, but it has come to my mind a few times,” the channeler nervously admits. Catching Delvin by the arm, she puts up a silence wall to give the group a few minutes of privacy. “To be honest, I’ve considered it happening to any of us ever since you and Sari were mind-controlled. If a gang of demonic telepaths can do that then it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that the Baron can. You want to come up with plans, Cunningham? Well this is a possibility that we really need to consider. Anybody here think they could kill me if I get turned against you? Preferably before I attack at full strength.”
Timoran is the only one who raises his hand, but the motion is oddly timid for the proud barbarian. “My axe can deflect your attacks, which gives me time to get through to you. I would rather knock you out than kill you. That being said, I have to agree that it is an uncomfortable option we must discuss as a group. Delvin, and myself to a lesser extent, are merely concerned because it was directed toward someone who was absent. The conversation felt more like conspiring than strategy.”
“Then we’ll bring it up when we reunite,” Luke interjects while poking at the shimmering wall of magic. Peering into the distance, he finds himself cautious even though the hallway is well lit and clear. “Let’s keep moving. I don’t want all of what I did up there to be wasted. Great champions of Windemere and we talk our way into being captured by thieves. Then again, this would be the city where such a thing would happen.”
“Just a second and I’ll drop the barrier,” Nyx requests before delivering a small kiss to Delvin. She ignores the groans of her friends and touches the man’s cheek. “From now on, I want you to tell me why you’re angry. No sense in leaving things bottled up until we’re standing in a hidden passage where thieves and traps are around every bend.”
“Actually, they wouldn’t have traps here because then they could get hurt,” Sari points out from where she is calmly sitting on the floor. The gypsy quietly examines a black feather and makes no attempt to move, which confuses her friends. “Call it thief intuition, but there’s no point in wandering around or being subtle. I believe the guild already knows we’re here and it’s smarter to wait for them to approach. That way we can’t get jumped or pulled into a pointless fight. We can also request that this woman get sent to the surface instead of leaving her to be found by a less noble criminal.”
Delvin sighs and steps through the silence wall, which dispels with an oily shimmer that leaves Nyx cursing under her breath. A gentle wave runs down the hallway, but nothing changes beyond a few torches billowing out. Nobody draws a weapon in the hopes of appearing friendly and giving their potential stalkers the idea that they do not want to fight. It does not work very well with Timoran’s intimidating size and Nyx’s reputation for explosive magic. In fact, there is still a physical reminder of the latter’s power in the form of an earthen scar running along the edge of town. Unaware of this problem, the champions remain where they stand and focus on the suspiciously quiet hallway.
Sari is the only one who stays calm when the wall behind them opens to reveal the tips of several crossbows. The thieves remain hidden in the shadows and the gap is too narrow for any of their enemies to pass through. Once all of the champions raise their hands, a child crawls out of the hidden passage and takes her time putting enchanted manacles on the prisoners. The small girl ignores the unconscious guard until she kicks the woman’s foot and scampers back into the darkness. With the dangerous adventurers contained, the wall moves away completely and a swarm of thieves billows out to claim their prize.
*****
The open chamber is filled with tables, chairs, and other pieces of stolen furniture, including two full-sized bars. Piles of treasure sit around the base of the pillars that prevent the ceiling from collapsing into the ancient catacombs. Money is constantly exchanging hands as the thieves relax with cheat-filled gambling and various games of skill, the most common one being Rodil darts. A trio of fireplaces provides the lair with light and heat, each one fitted with a grate that is enchanted to remain cool to the touch. The smoke is sucked into vents that are hidden in the ceiling, which has several nest-covered ledges hanging from wires. Dark forms flit among the support columns and spiral down whenever food is left unguarded. The crows are silent even when they are being shooed away from their meal, which is inevitably split with the greedy animals. Sitting on the arm of the guildmaster’s chair, the largest bird eyes the champions
that are standing in a line before their smirking captor.
The dark-haired man rubs at the scar along his cheek while keeping his prisoners in anticipation. He has yet to speak or move beyond reaching up to stroke the crow’s belly. With a snap of his fingers, the thief gets one of his people to bring him a drink and some food. The flicker of a scowl is on his face as the champions continue to remain calm and unconcerned about their situation. Wiping his hand on his silk shirt, the guildmaster tries to intimidate the adventurers by juggling daggers and flinging one at Nyx’s feet. Bound by the anti-magic manacles, the channeler is unable to melt the weapon that bangs off the stone floor. It bounces against her knee with a small thud, the hilt leaving a bruise beneath her pants. The guildmaster takes a drink in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, the crow cawing at those who dare to laugh at its handsome master.
“Imagine my surprise when I learn that some great heroes are poking around one of my trapdoors. Then I was shocked again when you landed outside one of my front doors,” the thief declares while standing and walking around his chair. Holding out his arm, he has the ebony bird sit on his wrist and kisses its smooth beak. “Now you’re my prisoners and I have to figure out what to do with you. Rumor has it that you’re working with Pazel, which doesn’t bode well for you. That weasel is always trying to usurp our control. Even without a connection to him, we don’t like it when you people show up. Nothing good ever happens to us and many of our members stay down here until you leave. I vote for ransoming all of you off to one of your richer friends and teach you a lesson for messing with the Rodillen guild. Duke Solomon or Mayor Highrider would be good choices. Then again, one of you is a king now, but I don’t think barbarians are interested in negotiating. What do you think?”
The guildmaster whirls around with a smile on his face that is quickly replaced by a look of shock. Sari has already freed herself with her lock picks and is working on getting Delvin out of his manacles. Luke is flexing his unrestrained hands, which seem to bend unnaturally for a brief moment. Hearing the sizzling of something hot striking the cool ground, the thief looks to see that Nyx has melted her anti-magic cuffs. The channeler shakes the last of the liquid metal from her arms before doing the same to the muzzle on Fizzle. Once they are all free, the champions go back to standing in a line with their hands behind their backs.
“At least the barbarian is contained,” the guildmaster mutters before Timoran snaps the manacles like they are made of paper. Admitting defeat and trying to save face, the man spreads his arms and bows low to the ground. “Welcome to our humble lair, great champions of Windemere. My name is Timothy Hylgin and I am the current guildmaster. To what do we owe this honor?”
“Odd that you would keep birds down here,” Sari says as she calmly approaches the other thief. Opening her palm, she offers a few sunflower seeds to the crow and smirks when the animal hisses. “We come with a request and a warning. That sounded more ominous than I expected, so I’ll add that we don’t mean you any harm. Unless you attack first and then my big friend over there will take out a few pillars.”
“No reason to threaten them, Sari,” Delvin claims, joining the pair and giving a small bow to the guildmaster. The gesture earns him a few laughs, which he finds odd considering he is trying to be respectful. “I don’t want to cost your people any business, so I’ll get right to the point. We need a map that our friend left in the Rodillen archives. She’s being held captive by Mayor Laufeia, but only because she has decided not to break out. Once we have the map, we’ll be on our way and you can return to the streets.”
The guildmaster reaches up to scratch the crow’s wing and whisper in its ear for a few seconds. “The telepath is missing, which I don’t like. Pazel has a crown that steals the powers of others. We’re not exactly sure how it works, but he combines it with this paralysis chair. The gnome gained his position by using these items on a very charming thief. Eventually, the stolen power becomes permanent and he kills his prisoner. Whether she realizes it or not, your friend is in a lot of danger. I’m assuming we are too.”
“So do you have the map or know where we can find it?” Luke asks, the half-elf surrounded by crows. The birds nuzzle his feet and gently peck at his boots, their senses picking up the griffin spirit inside him. “I’m guessing we’ll have to make a trade. What about if we stay away from Rodillen for a few years?”
“That sounds like it would be more in our favor. We can give you some of the treasure we find during our travels,” Nyx suggests, the channeler surprised when a smiling thief brings her a chair. She scans the furniture to find that it is not trapped before sitting down and being handed a goblet of wine. “I’m not sure what’s going on here. If you’re worried that I’ll blow up your lair then you can relax. Mostly because I’d be trapped down here too.”
“To be honest, you scare us, Lady Nyx,” the guildmaster casually admits with a charming smile that makes the channeler blush. Slipping behind his chair, the thief draws a shortsword that he points toward the floor. “I do like rings, especially shiny ones. That shield is nice, but ungainly and you’d probably reclaim it after we sell it. So, what about giving me those two rings and we’ll give you the map?”
It takes Luke and Timoran several moments to realize that they are the ones being watched by the thieves. Respectively, the Ring of Uli and the Ring of Aintaranurh are prominently displayed on their fingers, so they are unable to feign ignorance. At first the champions think it is a joke or test, but one look in the guildmaster’s hazel eyes proves that he is very serious about claiming the enchanted jewelry. Timoran cracks his knuckles and prepares to bash through the nearest pillar, the mottled marble ring on his finger turning red around the edges. Luke is more subtle in that he tucks his hand in his pocket to hide the wood-like artifact, which drops one of its withering leaves.
Enamored with the artifacts, the guildmaster clicks his tongue and appears ready to order his people to steal the rings. His voice is cut off by a loud squawk from his crow, the bird snatched off his shoulder by Sari. The gypsy wrestles the flailing animal that is trapped in one of her extra skirts, the fabric making it hard for her get a solid grip. With the sound of rustling feathers and tightening skin, the crow stretches and contorts. Wings become the slender arms of a young woman, her ebony hair mimicking the feather pattern of her other form. Her feet are bare and have black nails that retain their talon-like appearance. Several rings are on the thief’s fingers, which are in fists to avoid any of her precious treasures falling onto the ground while she changes. Tangled in the skirt, Sari and the shouting woman fall in a heap to the laughter of the other thieves.
“Dammit, Timothy! I told you to give them what they wanted and you can steal the rings later!” the real guildmaster shouts as she struggles to her feet. She tears the billowing garment in half, ignoring the gasp from the gypsy. “This ruse only works if you actually listen to me and not sweat when things go off script. I taught you to be better than this. Now go steal me a pretty necklace and some bread. I’ll handle the rest of-”
“A were-crow!” Sari shrieks in glee as she tackles the other thief. The excited champion locks the mysterious woman in place and happily examines every inch of her. “You people are legendary thieves who existed before the Great Cataclysm. I never thought I’d meet one or that you would be running a guild. Always heard that you stuck to your own kind and stayed away from Ralian. Your hair is gorgeous and I love your taste in jewelry. Please tell me that all the crows in here are like you.”
“I’m the only were-crow here. Damaged nest, only surviving egg, and you can guess the rest of the story. The name is Natalie Shadowfeather,” the amused woman says with a smirk. Thanks to her flexible bones, she expertly slips out of the immovable gypsy’s grasp. “You’ve made a reputation for yourself too, Sari. Not much of a thief, but I hear your abilities are varied. Makes me wonder if you’re more warrior or adventurer than gypsy.”
Timoran helps his shocked friend to her feet and puts a strong han
d on her shoulder. “I can assure you that Sari is an excellent thief. She is cunning, stealthy, and forces all of us to keep an eye on our valuables. Though our adventures do not always require those skills, she has not gone soft if that is what you are implying.”
“I was, but there’s no need to get so defensive,” Natalie claims, her nimble fingers touching the gypsy’s face. She lets her hands travel around the blue-haired woman in search of hidden pockets, a tactic that Sari immediately copies. “My clothes are rather tight, so you won’t find much. I remember hearing a story out of Hero’s Gate about you overthrowing a blossoming guild, but not much else. To be honest, I pity you for losing your trade. Gypsies are some of the best thieves in Windemere and you’re squandering your skills.”
“I’m suddenly not happy to have met one of your kind,” Sari replies, revealing a gold coin she has stolen from the guildmaster. She scowls at the sight of her beautiful stiletto in the guildmaster’s hand. “I sense a challenge is needed to prove myself. This is your turf, so you can pick the crime. If I win then you give me the map or steal it from wherever it’s been hidden. You win then that weapon is yours.”
“It is shiny, but I’m sure it isn’t worth as much as the map.”
“It’s the only thing I have left of a man I once loved.”
“Considering the adorable half-elf over there just winced, I’m going to refuse this little piece of drama.”
“Luke isn’t part of this, so my offer remains the same.”
The Spirit Well Page 8
