Thief's Blade

by C. Greenwood

  “Where are we?” I asked, quickly scrambling off the cold floor and pulling her up with me.

  “I think it’s a coal cellar,” she explained. “It’s how I got in.”

  From down here, the shouts and stomping going on overhead were muffled. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the thief king restored order and my escape was realized. We had to get out of here quickly.

  “Can’t you make some light?” I urged as Ada found my hand and dragged me through the darkness. How she knew one direction from another in this blackness I couldn’t guess.

  “No light,” she answered shortly. “Someone might see it through the floor cracks above.”

  It was a fair point.

  Pushing forward, occasionally bumping into barrels and other unfamiliar objects, I quickly realized the cellar was very small and it was possible to locate the exit by following the flow of cool air coming this way. It had to lead to the outdoors.

  Quickly we found a chute where coal must have been shoveled in, back when this place was still in use. It was steep but, again, just wide enough for a pair of skinny younglings to scramble up and through. Ahead of me, Ada shoved aside whatever was blocking the opening. Blinding daylight streamed into our faces.

  Blinking in the glare, we dragged ourselves out into the street. We had made it.

  But where were we now? We had come out into an empty lane. There were piles of refuse all around us, and the smell was terrible. Not far away, fluttering black birds were picking boldly at the rotting skeleton of some sort of dead animal. Tall decaying structures rose to either side of us. Warehouses, I thought. I even imagined I heard the distant lapping of water although I couldn’t see any.

  “We’re near the old docks but still inside the city walls,” Ada told me.

  Beneath the harsh light of the late afternoon sun, she was a hideous sight, her clothes even more torn and ragged than usual, her face, hands, and even her silver hair streaked with black dust. I realized I probably looked no better.

  But neither of us was interested in appearances right now.

  “Come on,” she said, taking off at a jog down the narrow lane.

  I didn’t hesitate but took off running after her. We weren’t safe yet.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  We ran down shadowed side streets and narrow alleys until we had no more strength left. Finally we cut through the empty yard around back of an unfamiliar house and hid behind a pigeon coop to catch our breaths. The birds fluttered and cooed at the disturbance, but there was no one else to notice our arrival. At last we could rest a moment.

  “How did you find me?” I asked Ada, between gasps for breath.

  She sank to the ground and leaned her back against the coop. “I was worried you wouldn’t escape the fruit seller, so I cut around to follow you,” she explained, wiping beads of sweat from her pale forehead. “I saw those strange men capture you and shove you into the back of their cart, so I went after them. I might not have if I had known was I was getting into. But I thought they were the same two men who chased you in Varnai.”Her eyes narrowed. “Remember them?” she asked meaningfully. “The mysterious enemies you won’t talk about from the past you won’t explain?”

  I dodged the question that wasn’t really a question by asking, “How did you get into the thieves’ den?”

  She shrugged. “I poked around outside until I discovered the coal chute that let me into the cellar. Finding the way into the upper room was harder. I guess they tore down the old stairs and boarded up the cellar entrance, so I had to try all the exposed boards over my head until I found a plank loose enough to lift quietly.”

  “Now what?” I asked, casting an uneasy glance around. Even in this concealed spot, I didn’t feel safe. I rubbed my arms, thinking it would be a long time before I stopped imagining the Thief’s Blade descending to chop them off.

  “We shouldn’t spend any more time on the streets during daylight,” Ada said. “Not while the whole guild is on the lookout for us. Let’s wait until twilight and then make for the under-levels.”

  It was a sensible plan. There was just one problem. Ferran was alone in the under-levels. True, I had paid the rough boy from last night’s sword fight to keep an eye on him from a distance. But Ada and I had sneaked off this morning without waking him to explain where we went, because we thought we would only be out a short time. By now he was bound to have noticed we were gone. He was probably scared to death in that strange place. He might even be tempted to venture up onto the streets looking for us. I couldn’t forget that the red-bearded man and the one with the scarred chin were out there somewhere, looking for us. What if Ferran encountered them alone? To an extent, I trusted the rough boy from the fight. But I doubted he would be prepared to risk his life defending Ferran. Not for the little I had paid him.

  No, we had to return to the beggar’s quarter as soon as possible, no matter how risky. Surprisingly, Ada didn’t argue with my decision. We abandoned our hiding place and took a circuitous route back to the common district, hoping to throw off anyone attempting to follow us.

  We reached the beggar’s quarter without incident and climbed down the secret stairway behind the sewer grate. The under-levels were as gloomy and unsettling as ever beneath the eerie, greenish light of the glimmer-stones. Worse, the swarm of strangers living and sleeping in the cavernous space now looked to me like potential informants of the thieves’ guild. Who knew how far the guild’s reach extended through the city?

  On the way toward our tent, I saw the boy I had fought the previous night. From a distance, he caught my eye and gave a nod, as if to say there had been no trouble while I was out.

  Despite the reassurance, I was relieved when I laid eyes on Ferran. He hadn’t wandered far from the tent where we had left him. We found him trying to befriend a couple of bold rats by offering them bits of rotted food taken from a pile of rubbish. Glad as I was to find him safe, for a moment I felt a pang at seeing a congrave’s son dressed like a beggar and playing with rats in a sewer. But I shook the feeling aside. I would provide a better life for my brother as soon as I could. For now, we were alive and free. That was all that mattered.

  I explained our absence to Ferran, leaving out the parts that would frighten him. There was no need for him to know that yet another group of enemies was now after us. Somehow amid all the excitement of the day, I still carried the three apples in my coat pockets from this morning.

  We divided the fruit, the first thing any of us had eaten all day, and tried to ignore the continued rumbling of our stomachs after the small meal. We couldn’t exist much longer on so little, I thought, eyeing the moldy crumbs Ferran had been feeding the rats. But how could we gather more when it was unsafe to walk the city streets? And how would we ever collect enough to see us through the last leg of our journey? Perhaps it was time we took our chances on the road and struck out for Dimmingwood. Maybe we would find small game or berries along the way. It wasn’t as if we were doing much better where we were.

  Yes, I decided. It was definitely time to set out for Dimmingwood. But when I turned to tell the others my decision, I suddenly noticed that Ferran’s face looked strangely flushed. In fact, his eyes were dull and there was a listlessness about him that was all too familiar. I would have noticed it earlier if I hadn’t been so caught up in other problems.

  I put my hand to my brother’s forehead, and my fears were confirmed. The fever had returned. At least this time we knew what to do. Ada created one of her magic blazes, and we heated a pot of water with the remainder of the herbs from the packet. I only hoped it would be enough.

  After settling Ferran into his blankets, I told Ada, “We’ll have to remain in Selbius another day or two, even assuming the medicine works this time. He’s not fit to travel on foot or sleep outdoors in all weather.”

  I could see by her face that I didn’t have to explain what this meant. Our situation was growing graver by the hour. She looked at the under-level dwellers surrounding us, the old a
nd the lame mixing with young mothers with wailing infants and barefoot children. Was she thinking as I was that any of these desperate people might sell us to our enemies?

  “I have an idea,” she said suddenly and leapt to her feet.

  “What is it?” I called after her as she strode away. “What’s your plan?”

  She answered over her shoulder, “I’m going to risk everything.”

  * * *

  When Ada was gone, I sat alone wondering what she had meant about risking everything. By now it must be growing dark outside. I hoped that would give her some protection. Besides, none of the thieves from the den had seen her freeing me, and my two former captors from the tower escape had no cause to trouble her. Whatever her mission, I would have to trust that she knew what she was doing. She had helped us this far, hadn’t she?

  I crept into the tent and monitored Ferran’s fever. He was still burning up but slept deeply. If nothing else, at least the medicine was letting him rest. I lay down among the blankets and pulled out the little leather-bound book I had kept during my time in the tower. It was too dark for reading. With Ada’s power to summon light and fire, we had never bothered to procure candles. But I could still make out the outline of my handwriting scrawled across the page.

  Already it seemed like I was another person when I wrote those words. The thought didn’t entirely disturb me. I was still my father’s son but was no longer the helpless and naïve boy I had been during my golden childhood or even during my imprisonment. I was a survivor now even if a clumsy one. I had taken elements of that former Luka and was transforming him into a more experienced, stronger me. I was becoming Rideon.

  For some reason my thoughts turned to the thief king, the leader of the guild. There was something impressive about the cruel man with his terrible black-bladed sword. He was no praetor or congrave, but he wielded a kind of power over his people. For that he had to be clever, bold, even ruthless. Had he once started out as someone like me? I was surprised to realize I almost admired him.

  * * *

  I must have fallen asleep eventually, because the next thing I knew Ferran was shaking me.

  “Luka, wake up. Ada’s back, and she’s brought food,” he said happily.

  Seeing Ada over his shoulder, I almost shot my brother a sharp look for calling me by the wrong name in her presence. But then I didn’t. I was too surprised and pleased to see him awake and looking improved. A touch to his forehead revealed his fever was nearly gone. The medicine had saved us again.

  “How did your mission go?” I asked Ada, seeing her loaded with provisions and a bundle of what looked like clothing.

  “It was a success,” she said, putting the things down.

  She tossed me something—a quiver. And it held a few arrows. I dug my bow out of the back of the tent and tested it with one of the arrows. The string was still damaged and the tension off. But it could possibly shoot a short distance if necessary. But I didn’t trust my aim. Not with the bad string.

  “How did you come by all this?” I asked Ada, indicating the pile of goods around us. “We don’t have enough money, and you couldn’t have stolen this much in a single morning.”

  I didn’t add what she must surely be aware of, that if she had stolen it, she risked the wrath of the thieves’ guild, the same as me.

  “I took a chance,” she admitted. “After yesterday’s tangle with the thieves’ guild, it occurred to me the Selbius city guard would probably be happy to get their hands on a man like the thief king. There was bound to be some kind of reward out for him. So I went to the city guard and sold out the thief king and the location of his secret den. The reward was enough to buy all the provisions we need to make our journey to Dimmingwood. I also bought clothes.”

  “Clothes?” I was still trying to absorb the first bit of information.

  She glanced at Ferran. “The thieves and the other men hunting you two are looking for younglings dressed like a pair of farm boys,” she said. “And if they’ve ever caught a glimpse of me, they’re looking for a beggar girl. They’re less likely to recognize us in these disguises.”

  She tossed me a pair of tall leather boots and a bundle of clothing wrapped in a purple cloak. “Put it on, Luka,” she said.

  “My name’s Rideon,” I corrected uneasily. I realized she must have overheard Ferran’s earlier remark.

  “Sure it is. And his is Ardeon,” she said, nodding sarcastically toward my brother. “That’s why you call him ‘Ferran’ when you think I can’t hear. And you’re just a pair of nobodies, two humble farm boys. That’s why those soldiers picked us up on the road outside Varnai.”

  Ferran was looking at me curiously. I doubted even he fully understood why we played the game we did with our new identities.

  “I guess I finally owe you an explanation,” I told Ada.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “But save it until we’re on the road. Right now I’m most concerned with getting out of the city. Is Ardeon, or whatever you want to call him, ready to travel?”

  “He’s better,” I said, giving my brother a reassuring look. “As long as the fever doesn’t return, I think he can walk.”

  “Sure I can,” Ferran agreed bravely. I could see he didn’t want to disappoint us. What nobody said aloud, and I hoped Ferran didn’t even realize, was that we had used up the last of his medicine. If he fell ill again while we were on the road, there would be little we could do.

  “I wonder if the thief king will hang,” I wondered aloud as I helped Ferran untie the knots in the bundle containing his clothes.

  Ada offered her usual shrug. “I doubt the city guard will ever really catch him, even knowing where to look,” she said. “Besides, I planned a little extra protection for us. Before informing to the city guard, I sent a tip to the thieves’ guild that their den was about to be raided by the guard. I didn’t admit to being the guards’ informant, of course. But that should keep the thieves busy running and hiding long enough for the three of us to make our escape from Selbius. And if we ever find ourselves in the city again, our warning may have bought us a little favor with the thief king— as long as he never figures out the full story.”

  This development made it even more urgent we leave Selbius within the hour, before the results of Ada’s duplicity blew up in our faces. Looking Ferran over after he put on his new clothing, I approved of the disguise. In his leather jerkin over a long green tunic and breeches, he looked like a woodsman’s son. I had never seen a woods village, but I imagined he looked as if he belonged in one.

  My own disguise was more leather with mixed brown and green wool. Except for my jarring purple cloak, I would blend well with the trees when we reached Dimmingwood. The last thing I did before stepping out of our tent was transfer my map of the four provinces and my leather-bound book into an inner pocket of my new cloak. In the process, I felt my father’s ring, lying cold against my chest on the cord that suspended it from my neck. Something made me hesitate. I removed the bulky ring from the cord and slipped it over the knuckle of my thumb. To my surprise, it fit now. I was glad. It seemed right to finally wear it, on this of all days.

  I snatched up my bow, despite the uneasy feelings I still had about the enchanted weapon. I couldn’t let my new quiver and arrows go to waste. Besides, the bow had warned me of danger once before. Maybe it would do it again.

  We rolled up our old clothes and the blankets we had used to construct our tent. Then Ada, looking like a different girl in her tidy, new gray dress and white cloak, led us out of the under-levels. On the way, I saw no sign of the rough boy from the sword fight or any of his friends. As we mounted the stairs for the last time, I looked back at the miserable den we left and hoped never to see it again.

  I was confused over the hour, when we emerged into the beggar’s quarter. It should have been late in the morning. But a heavy mist hung over the area, blotting out any warmth or sunlight. Was it like this all over the city?

  “It’s because of the lake,” Ada said.
“I heard someone talking about it on the street earlier. When conditions are right, a thick fog rolls in and smothers Selbius, sometimes for days. It brings work to a standstill, and many people stay indoors because they’re afraid to breathe it.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

  “Probably nothing, but some claim it causes sickness. Anyway, it’s dangerous to walk the main streets when you can’t see oncoming horses or wagons.”

  It sounded like the perfect shield for us, as it meant the streets would be mostly empty and we could travel without fear of being seen.

  We slipped quietly down the crooked lanes of the common district, encountering few passersby on our way. Ada had been right about people keeping to their houses. Our pace was easy because we didn’t want to tire Ferran before we were even out of the city. Besides, the chill vapor hovering all around made it hard to see more than a short distance ahead.

  All was going well until I gradually became aware of a growing warmth across my back, where I carried the bow.

  “Rideon,” Ada said from behind me. “I think your bow is glowing.”

  She was right. I twisted around to catch a glimpse of a fiery glow emanating from the weapon. Even from a distance it could probably be seen gleaming through the fog like a lantern.

  “Cover it up before it attracts attention,” I said.

  “Why is it doing this?” Ada asked, quickly rearranging my cloak to cover the bow. “I feel heat coming from it.”

  Before I could answer, a sound fell upon my ears, the ringing clop of horses’ hooves coming from ahead. In the eerie atmosphere of the desolate street, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  Simultaneously there was another sound, an unfamiliar voice whispering inside my head.

  Defend! Destroy! Avenge!

  They weren’t my thoughts. Somehow I knew they came from the bow. Before I could question how this was possible, two indistinct figures on horseback suddenly emerged from the swirling mist ahead. They charged toward us, cloaks flaring and three-cornered hats pulled low. I didn’t need to see their faces to know it was the red-bearded man and the one with the scarred chin. They had finally caught up to us.