But he forced himself to only begin moving when the kidnapper moved. The horrible smell clung to him. Reks worried that the kidnapper might smell him, realize that someone was following him and make a break for it.
If Mya wasn’t frightened anymore then he would focus on finding the other children, but he would be sure to get her out. Her brothers depended on her too much to get by without her.
The kidnapper headed towards the end of the alley and the open space of the Low Town Market Square, Reks trailing behind. With any luck, some of the street lamps would be lit and Reks would be able to see who exactly he was up against.
When the kidnapper reached the Market Square, Reks hung back in the shadows, allowing the kidnapper to continue forward into the light that pooled on the cobbled streets.
Reks drew back upon seeing the face of the kidnapper, but his eyes never moved from it. The kidnapper was not a man but more of a creature. Long shaggy grey hair covered most of his head, making almost a lion mane around the grey skin of his face. The rest of his body was clothed in grey as well.
Reks inched closer, staying in the shadows along the side of the street where trees provided some cover. He glimpsed a Mark on the creature’s right arm, but couldn’t make out any details. What looked like grey thread was stitched through it, breaking the pattern.
As he moved closer the odor became overwhelming.
Reks realized with horror what he had smelled back in the alleyway and as he’d slipped through shadows behind the kidnapper. It was the kidnapper himself, rotting like a piece of uncooked beef. More grey thread was laced through his skin, holding together decomposing pieces of flesh. Reks saw stitching along the creature’s neck, no doubt holding his head to his shoulders.
The creature must be dead. No man in his right mind would sew themselves like that, not when there were mages to fix such things as knife wounds. Of course, there was no real cure for a severed head.
The creature stopped in the middle of the square, looking up at the sky. Reks followed his line of sight, but saw nothing. The street lamps prevented a view of the stars. The creature tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something.
Reks waited. He had learned to wait. Where most people might rush forward, Reks waited. It is the folly of youth to hurry. That was one thing he had learned from his father, along with countless other little life lessons.
But after five minutes of crouching in the shadows, waiting for the creature to do something, to move, Reks was growing impatient. He wanted to find the others, to defeat the creature and bring back the children that were under his protection.
He considered attacking the creature and then gaining the information from him through various means. However, he might not be successful. From the looks of the thing in front of him, it probably didn’t feel pain.
Was he willing to risk the welfare of three children simply because he couldn’t be bothered to wait?
No.
He settled back, keeping his eyes on the still figure in front of him, who still stood with his head tilted slightly, staring at the sky, Mya hanging limp over his shoulder.
Movement in the shadows at the far side of the square caught Reks' gaze. The creature didn’t see it. He held his breath and waited. Maybe this was what the creature was waiting for. Maybe he was only meant to take the children from their houses and then to pass them off to someone else for transport.
He watched as three figures melted out of the shadows, moving silently on booted feet. They approached the creature from the back, brandishing various weapons. Reks insides tightened when he realized what they were going to do.
He started forward, just a silently as the others. His one and only goal was to get Mya out of the fray and back to her brothers unhurt. As he got closer the features of the other three stalkers came into view.
He drew up in surprise upon seeing the mint green skin and dark green hair of one of them. What in the world was a dryad doing out of the forest and in Nemia’s Low Town?
Reks didn’t have time to really ponder the question as at that moment the creature turned suddenly and caught sight of his would be attackers. He let out a sound that was more animal than human and rushed forward, knocking back the dryad and one of the men who traveled with her.
Reks leapt forward, grabbed hold of Mya’s hands and pulled down. He felt her begin to slip off the creature’s shoulder, but suddenly her downward movement stopped. The creature turned, his cold black eyes focused on Reks, his hands closed around Mya’s ankles, preventing her from falling.
Reks slid his two wrist knives into his palms, spun them so the blades faced outwards. One of the other attackers swung a sword and caught the creature in his other arm. He howled in rage and then simply disappeared.
Reks lunged forward, checking the spot where the creature had been standing. Finding nothing but the lingering stench of rotting flesh, Reks spun around brandishing his knives, rage taking over his body, but not showing on his face.
“What,” he began keeping his voice even, “do you think that you were doing?”
The dryad stepped forward, her face looking as angry as he felt. “We were trying to stop it. What do you think you were doing?”
“I was trying to save a little girl from being kidnapped. She’s the third one taken from me in the last two weeks.”
One of the men stepped forward. “That’s impossible. There were two taken in South Hall last week. And there are still two weeks left this month.”
Reks regarded him. He was a noble, no doubt. Probably high ranking by the way that he was looking at Reks, like he was little more than a bug. The third member of their little party was definitely a guard and not a hired guard, but one whose trust and friendship had been won over years of spending time together.
“Well, my lord,” Reks said, executing a mocking bow. “Three children have been taken from my court since the beginning of the month, including the one that was just taken.”
The noble frowned. “Your court?”
Reks grinned. “The Court of Thieves.”
Comprehension dawned on the face of the guard. “You’re the Thief Lord of Nemia?”
“The same.”
“Aren’t you a bit young to be Thief Lord?” asked the dryad.
“The youngest in history.” His fingers tightened on the hilt of his knives. He wanted very desperately to lash out. To punish these people who had all but helped the creature escape with Mya and any hope he’d had of finding the others.
This put his position as Thief Lord greatly at risk. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to find a way to fix it, had to discover where it was that this creature was going to strike next.
He had spies in all the major cities of the country, sent there to report back about the state of their Courts, but perhaps he could use them for other information instead. He could put the word out that whoever provided him with solid information would be one of his lieutenants in his expanding kingdom.
He opened his eyes and found the other three looking at him with curious expressions on their faces. “So, you were trying to stop it? How long have you been hunting it?”
“Two weeks.”
“And you knew it would be here?”
Not one of them answered. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. The one habit he had that showed his frustration. He could control his emotions, push them to the back of his mind and forget about it. It was a talent that had allowed him to move quickly through the ranks of Volker’s Court. He had felt no remorse stepping on others to get what he wanted. He could hide disgust, anger, regret even happiness, but frustration was one he still hadn’t conquered. He hated when things didn’t go exactly as he planned.
He changed tactics. “I’m sure you are all hungry. Would you care to join me for a meal? I promise not to press you for information and that all of your valuables will be quite safe.”
They took a few moments to discuss the possibility before they agreed. He was sure they
thought that he might be able to provide them with information and he was content to let them think so.
They reached The Talon a short time later. Reks nodded at the barman and made his way directly to the back of the building. He opened a door to a flight of stairs. “Close this,” he said to whoever was bringing up the rear and continued up the flight of stairs. He ushered them into a private room that held little more than a table and a few chairs. Reks had done countless dealings at the Talon and knew the barman well. They had a symbiotic relationship in which the owner looked the other way while Reks used his upstairs room and Reks ordered his thieves to leave the owner and his family alone.
There was a light knock on the door. Reks opened it revealing Kera, the barman’s daughter.
“Hello, my lord,” her voice held a breathy giggle. “What can I do for you tonight?”
Reks looked down at her silky blond hair and milky skin. They’d enjoyed each other's company since he became Thief Lord, but tonight he had no time for flirtatious glances. “Please bring up four bowls of stew, bread and four pints.”
A pout appeared on her pretty red lips as she flounced away, no doubt disappointed that Reks had more important things to do than her that night.
He closed the door and returned to his guests. “So, two weeks on the road together, eh? I’ve always found it hard to get along with others while traveling.”
The others watched him, wary of what he might do. They had yet to take a seat.
Reks held up his hands. “Peace. I truly mean you no harm. I only wish to have information. Children under my protection have been kidnapped. This places my crown in a very precarious position. You see, Your Highness, I had to earn mine, I wasn’t born with it.”
The blond man started a little at being called ‘Your Highness.’ The guard was across the room in an instant, his arm pressed against Reks’ throat, Reks pressed against the hardwood of the door.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Reks said. His fingers moved slightly and the guard gasped as Reks’ knife pierced the skin of his leg. If Reks twitched his hand in the other direction the guard would become a eunuch. He eased off of Reks and backed away. Reks set his knife on the table then systematically began to pull all his knives from their hiding places on his person. He laid each one carefully next to the first, until he was weaponless.
He motioned to them. “Go ahead, take them.”
He hated being without a weapon, but he understood their distrust of him. He stepped back from the table. The guard gingerly picked up each knife and laid them in a pile on the floor as far from the Thief Lord as he could get.
Kera knocked again and Reks allowed her entry. She carried her large tray to the table and carefully laid out each item. She didn’t look at Reks and he knew that she was upset. He sighed silently to himself maybe it was better this way. He’d been meaning to end it with Kera for quite some time it was just a bit more difficult than he’d thought. Maybe now she would end it with him.
As soon as she left the room, Reks sat at the table and tucked into his food. He hadn’t eaten since lunch and was ravenous. The stew was, as always, sub-par and the bread was a bit stale, but it was food nonetheless.
His guests finally sat and began to eat. The men ate with as much fervor as Reks did, though the Dryad merely ate the bread and drank the ale. Reks remembered hearing that most Dryads did not eat meat and wished he had asked for a bowl of cooked vegetables as well.
“You know, Your Highness,” Reks began his voice even tempered. “The king is saying that your disappearance was orchestrated by the Dryadians, that in fact all of the disappearances in the last three years have been committed by the Dryadians.”
The prince nodded. “We’ve heard that as well. Tell me, how did you know that I am Prince Doran?”
Reks leaned back in his chair, and spoke around the bite of bread he’d just taken. “Well, I could tell right away that you were noble. That one there,” he pointed to the guard, “looks like a royal guard and you’re traveling with a Dryad, whom as everybody knows visited the palace the day you disappeared.” Reks bowed his head deeply in the Dryads direction. “Natesa.”
She dipped her chin to her chest.
“If you were trying to travel in disguise, you’re doing a very poor job of it. You, Your Highness, need to not look so much like you are looking down on everyone around you and your guard needs to look as though he isn’t guarding anything. And you’re traveling with a dryad, which gives away the whole group right away.” He turned to apologize to the Natesa but where she had been sitting was now occupied by a woman who very closely resembled Kera.
Reks let out a low whistle in appreciation, while he watched the woman’s face distorted and changed, the skin returned to its natural green hue, the nose melted back, the hair turned from silky to grassy. “Well,” Reks said when the transformation was complete. “That is a handy trick.”
The dryad smiled showing pointed teeth. “Yes, it truly is. I can’t hold it for more than a few hours, but that is usually long enough for us to travel through a city and purchase what supplies we might need.”
There was another knock on the door. Reks had made up his mind to ignore it certain that it was just Kera come back to try to persuade him to spend some time with her. But when the knock sounded again and a voice Reks recognized all too well called out, “Reks, I know you’re in there,” he quickly went to allow the knocker access.
Zavier Meade, the only person Reks truly trusted, strolled into the room, his quick black eyes scanning the room, taking in the faces of the occupants. Reks knew he was remembering every detail of their countenance. Zavier never forgot a face, a talent that had come in handy more than once. Little did Zavier know that the woman didn’t actually have the black hair, green eyes and olive skin that was common among the Salis, a nomadic people who traveled Iperia selling wares.
He turned angrily toward Reks, sending his light brown hair flopping over his forehead to hang in his eyes. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You told me you would be back at the Court two hours ago.”
Reks threw himself into a chair and stretched out his booted feet. “Things took a bit longer than I originally thought.”
Zavier’s face cleared. “But you succeeded? You found the children?”
“No.”
Zavier’s expression crumpled again. “Then what, may I ask, are you doing here drinking and eating? You should be out there looking. I can’t tell you how bad things are up in the Court. They’ve gotten so worried and angry that they’ve stopped whispering in shadows. I think they want it to get back to you. That ridiculous rumor about you being noble born is resurfacing.”
Reks gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. That was one piece of information he didn’t want his guests to know. He had known Zavier since they were both young, but at times Reks wanted nothing more than to kill his friend.
“You’re a noble?” Prince Doran asked.
“There is nothing noble about me, except my profession.”
“You think thieving is a noble profession?”
Reks only shrugged.
Zavier seemed more aware of their guests now, he took in their appearances again more slowly this time, then bowed his head slightly. “Your Highness.”
A slow grin spread across Reks' face. “You see, Prince Doran, you look like royalty. I’m surprised no one has found you out yet.”
The Prince’s pale skin grew slightly pink, but he didn’t say anything else. Apparently, they had hurt his pride by suggesting that he couldn’t blend in with the common folk.
“May I ask what you’re doing traveling with a Salis, Your Highness? And why is it that you are having dinner with a known thief?” Zavier always asked a lot of questions. In most cases when his questions weren’t answered someone got hurt and it wasn’t Zavier.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Reks said, deciding to answer for them. “Each of these people has had someone they care about taken from them by the kidnapper. He
takes without regard to station, family or wealth. The king is too busy starting a war with the Dryads to do much, so they have decided to bring the kidnapper to justice themselves. And I,” he stood up. “Have decided to help them.
Chapter 5
SERRA
Serra’s head was pounding. Whatever it was that she had done before she went to sleep, she vowed to never do it again. She rolled over, trying to find a more comfortable place to lie, but whichever way she turned, her bed became no softer.
She heard muffled voices, no doubt from outside her door, probably Nessa come to yell at her for sleeping late. “I think she’s waking up.” A feminine voice said.
“Why did you make the protection spells so strong?” questioned a man’s voice.
“Well, at least we know they work,” said a third.
What were they talking about? Protection spells? There were no protection spells on the Great House. Well, maybe on the cellar where the Grand Lord kept his gold and such, but not on any other part of the house.
There came a gentle tapping on Serra’s cheek. She groaned and pushed it away, tried to go back to sleep.
“Come on, get up.” The tapping came back.
“Get off!” she snarled and slapped the hand away again.
“No chance of that, I’m afraid.” The voice sounded apologetic.
“If you don’t get up, we’ll be forced to douse you with water.” That voice held no note of apology.
Serra opened her eyes to rebuff the speaker even more ferociously, but blinked in confusion instead. Early morning sunshine filtered through the thick branches of trees that towered over where she lay on her back. Where was she? Where was Eva? She cautiously sat up and the people who had been crowded around her stepped back to give her some space. She looked at the unfamiliar faces and a horrible thought occurred to her. She had been kidnapped. She had been taken from the house, from right under all the guard’s noses, just like all of the others.
She jerked away from the people surrounding her, cowered against the trunk of a tree, keeping them within sight. There were four of them, three men and one Dryad. The Dryad sparked something in the back of her mind but Serra couldn’t focus enough to figure out what it was. They had her surrounded and even though she had some training from Bull, it would be difficult to escape.
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