Or so we thought. At last, the Mantis slumped to one knee, his blade held above him in a feeble defense. Sascha moved in for the kill, and in our eagerness we noticed too late the free hand thrust into a concealed pocket. In one deft move, he rolled to the side, tossing down a small clay ball that shattered with a flash of light and a deafening bang. When vision returned, the room was empty, and through the ringing in our ears we could hear shouts of alarm from elsewhere in the building.
"Hell," I said, and looked to the open trap door, but Sascha was already kneeling in front of the chest, handling her lockpicks like an artist with his brushes. With a triumphant click, the lid popped free, and Sascha threw it wide.
When I first saw them carrying the chest, I had hoped against hope to find my puzzle box inside. Instead, I found myself staring down at two rows of them, stacked like bricks within the padded case, each of them carved with a unique arrangement of human skulls and other morbid imagery. I looked at Sascha.
"This good enough?" she asked.
"Yeah," I breathed. "Yeah, I think it is."
Each of us grabbed two of the boxes and tucked them under our arms, leaving our sword arms free for whatever lay ahead. Then, with the sound of running feet approaching from the hall, we dropped into the sewer, and were gone.
Appendix: Castle Korvosa
Built atop a massive flat-topped pyramid, the citadel of Castle Korvosa rises to almost twice the pyramid's height to make it by far the tallest structure in Korvosa.
The pyramid once served as a vital strategic and religious site for the native Shoanti. When the Chelish settlers moved onto the mainland from Endrin Isle (the island on which Old Korvosa stands), it took them nearly fifteen years to finally and decisively expel the Shoanti from the pyramid. After that time, the people of Korvosa built the first citadel walls atop the pyramid and gained control of Korvosa Peninsula in the process.
Over time, many different leaders have added to the citadel, building up from the top of the pyramid in a variety of styles and for an assortment of reasons. The castle's South Tower, the most recently completed and tallest addition, looms over the rest of the citadel and the city. Its claw-like tip scrapes the sky at nearly 600 feet above the base of the pyramid.
Appendix: Speaking Korvosan
The people of Korvosa universally speak Chelaxian but have, over time, created their own slang and terminology unique to the city. These are some of the terms one might hear while passing through the city.
Arbiter: Korvosan judge. Arbiters wield a great deal of judicial power in the city.
Chel: While in most of the world this word is considered a mildly inappropriate term for someone of Chelish descent, in Korvosa it has evolved into a vicious ethnic slur.
Copper Pinch: Korvosan copper piece. Usually referred to simply as a "pinch" (plural and singular). Among children, calling multiple copper coins "pinches" often elicits playful tweaks on the arm or backside.
Gater: Someone who lives in Northgate.
Gold Sail: Korvosan gold piece. Always called by its full name to differentiate it from the similar term "sail" (see below).
Moth: A full-blooded Varisian.
Pincher: A very poor person who scrapes by on only a few copper pieces a month.
Platinum Crown: Korvosan platinum piece. Often referred to as simply a "crown."
Sail: A ship.
Shingles: The rooftop highways and temporary residences above the city.
Silver Shield: Korvosan silver piece. Frequently called by its full name to differentiate it from the shields used for protection.
Vaults: Any underground opening beneath Korvosa.
Of Endings and Beginnings
By James L. Sutter
18 Erastus, 4707 ar
"I still think I could open it."
I snorted. "I'm sure you could. And if what came out was a swarm of flesh-eating locusts or a thousand souls of the hungry dead, what then? Or do you think those screaming skulls embossed all over it are just for decoration?"
"Humph. If it's really that dangerous, I'm not sure how I feel about leaving the others in my shop. Besides, it's probably just somebody's jewelry box." Sascha crossed her arms over her leather jerkin and picked up the pace, her long strides eating up the cobblestone street, but I could tell that she wasn't truly peeved. "Well, it's a moot point now. We're here." She pointed.
Rising up before us, the hall was a work of gothic genius, all tapered spires and leering gargoyles. Even for those satellite buildings set apart from the main campus, the Acadamae was easily recognizable. My hand went instinctively to my sword.
"And you trust this man?" I asked, for the third time that morning.
"As much as I trust any wizard, which is just barely. But Devoren has identified plenty of items for me in the past, and he's always played fair and paid full market for whatever he decides to pick up for himself." Brushing past me, she danced nimbly up the marble steps and rapped hard on the doors. Somewhere inside, a bell chimed.
Without warning, a disembodied voice rang clear in my ear, as if the speaker were standing by my side. "Who seeks entrance?" it croaked. "State your name and purpose."
"Sascha Antif-Arah," Sascha responded easily to the empty air. "Here to see the Sage Devoren, by appointment. This is my comrade, Eando Kline."
There was a momentary silence, and then the doors in front of us cracked and swung open of their own accord. Beyond, a wizened, white-haired man in purple livery stood next to a small writing desk.
"You're expected," the doorman said in the voice from the doorstep. "Please follow me." He turned and strode off down the long, wood-paneled hall, not bothering to look behind him to see if we followed. Sascha nudged me into motion, and we fell into step a few paces behind him.
The hall was plain and level, the thick burgundy carpet and dark wood paneling seeming to soak up the sound of our passage. Softly glowing ghost lamps floated near the ceiling at regular intervals, lighting our way. We traveled for long minutes, passing closed door after closed door, and soon I became convinced that there was no way the building, large as it was, could possibly contain it all. I began to remark as much to Sascha, but she cut me off with a gesture, and we walked in silence until the stooped doorman finally slowed and knocked at one of the doors, pulling himself up into a semblance of parade rest.
"Enter," said a male voice, and the doorman bowed his head as we passed into the room.
The chamber beyond was sober and elegant. High ceilings were complemented by equally towering bookshelves, and deep green carpet played counterpoint to maroon curtains girding the floor-to-ceiling window which took up most of one wall. More drapes hid what appeared to be the entrance to a well-appointed apartment. In the room's center stood a massive wooden desk, and behind it lounged a man. Shorter than me by a good deal, his eyes were sharp, and his small black beard was trimmed to a meticulous point. His dark robes were modest, yet obviously of high quality. He stood as we entered.
"Sascha! Always a pleasure. What wonders have your thieves and scholars brought us today?"
"Devoren," she replied. "Good to see you as well."
The man moved around the desk to greet us, and as he did I noticed for the first time the view out the window, which confirmed what my gut had told me—without any discernable slope to the hallway, we appeared to have climbed several stories. Wizards.
Devoren clasped hands with both of us, then seated himself on the lip of his desk and gestured for the doorman to leave, which the little man did with a bow, closing the door behind him.
Without hesitation, Sascha pulled out the strange steel puzzle box and handed it to him. Devoren twirled it slowly in his hands several times, peering at it intensely, before setting it carefully down on the desk.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
&
nbsp; In answer, Sascha launched into our carefully pruned version of the truth, telling how I'd taken it off the corpse of a courier at the edge of the Mushfens, but neglecting to mention its subsequent theft.
"You didn't open it yet, did you?"
Sascha shook her head.
"Good," Devoren replied. "While I can't tell offhand exactly what charms are warding this piece, there's obviously more here than just an elaborate lock. The design as a whole I don't recognize, but judging by the auras, somebody obviously put a lot of time or coin into this. Probably both. And you see this here?" He pointed at one of the carvings, and Sascha and I leaned in closer. "That's a Taldoran death's head. Not something you see a whole lot anymore, but a clear warning of danger to anyone who recognizes it." He stopped again and peered closer at the tiny, screaming skull. "And to those who don't, I suppose," he conceded. There was a long pause in which he seemed to forget we were there. Finally Sascha cleared her throat loudly, and he started back into the present.
"Well enough," said Sascha. "But I'm more concerned with whatever's inside it. Can you get through the wards?"
"What?" He was staring at the box. "Oh, yes, yes. Give me two days. I should have everything sorted out by then. Usual rates."
"Agreed," said Sascha. She paused a moment, and when no more words were forthcoming, took me by the shoulder and said, "We'll just let ourselves out." We moved back into the hall and closed the door on the wizard, leaving him sitting on his desk and musing over the box, deep in thought.
20 Erastus, 4707 ar
Hellhounds are everything their name implies.
Two days later, we returned at the appointed time and repeated the process, following the little doorman up to Devoren's quarters. This time the room was dark, the curtains drawn across the great window, and the warm study lit by candles. The wizard greeted us with a smile and motioned to two chairs in front of the desk, which we took. The box was not in evidence.
"So what did you find out, Devoren?" Sascha asked. "Where's our box?"
The sage smiled again, this time sheepishly.
"I'm sorry to report that there were... complications," he replied. "I had my strongest countercharms in place, but there was a hidden evocation failsafe I was unable to detect. When I moved to open it, the entire thing burst into flames—if I hadn't placed wards around it, my whole workshop could have gone up! Of course, I'll be happy to pay whatever you think it might reasonably have been worth, but..."
He pressed on, making further excuses, but I slumped back in the chair, defeated. After all my effort, riding halfway across Varisia, nearly getting my throat slit multiple times—nothing. Not even the chance to see what the box contained. I put my hand over my eyes and did my best to control my breathing, lest I throttle the useless wizard. I could tell that beside me, Sascha was having the same reaction.
Suddenly something the wizard said caught my attention.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked.
"I just said that there's an upside to all this," Devoren repeated, eager to regain our favor. "Now that I've figured out the box's wards, there should be no problem opening the others. In fact, I think that—"
I cut him off.
"Devoren," I said quietly, "who said anything about others?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sascha stiffen. My hand on my sword, I stood up slowly.
A single bead of sweat ran down the wizard's cheek.
"Well, I—I mean, I assumed—"
"I did," said a familiar voice, and the curtains to Devoren's apartment parted to admit a tall, well-dressed Chelish man with gray-streaked hair. As he spoke, the curtains behind him and over the window rustled, disgorging four Korvosan Guards with truncheons drawn.
"I'm—I'm sorry, Sascha," pleaded Devoren, who was standing now, his hands clasped in entreaty. "I didn't want to turn you in, but your friend's gone too far this time. Lord Briasus is a very well-respected man, and to steal from his private collection is a serious crime... I have his promise that you'll receive a fair trial, and I'm sure the jury will understand that you knew nothing about—"
"Guards," the nobleman broke in, "these two invaded my residence and stole a number of priceless artifacts. By the laws of this city, I demand that they be taken and brought before the arbiters."
Finally the voice clicked.
"Sascha!" I yelled. "It's him! It's the Mantis who—"
And then they were upon us.
I started to draw my sword, but Sascha's shout stopped me. "These are city guards!" she cried, heaving over the massive desk to block the guards advancing from the apartment. "They're the good guys. Do you want us to be executed?" She caught up one of the heavy chairs we had been sitting in and swung it hard and fast in a wide arc, bringing it down on one of the guards' shoulders and driving him to the floor. Following her lead, I stepped in close to his partner and delivered my best uppercut, catching him flush on the chin and snapping his head back in a spray of blood and spit. Then something hard and weighted caught me on the back of my head and buckled my knees. I went down, and from the floor I could see Briasus standing calmly in the corner, apparently confident that the guards could handle us.
A boot came down hard between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the ground, and I was forced to admit that he might be right.
"This is suicide, Kline!" Sascha yelled. She stood with her back to a corner, holding two more guards at bay with a pair of chairs, as if she were a lion tamer. "Get us out of here!" Catching a glancing blow from Sascha's chair, one of the guards dropped his truncheon and drew his sword.
That was it. Drawing my dagger, I reached back and slammed it into the calf of the guard behind me, sending him screaming to the ground. Before he could recover I took two steps and leapt over the table, straight into Devoren. Locking one arm around his chest, I swung him between the guards and me, my dagger pressing hard enough to draw blood from his frantically bobbing larynx.
"Nobody move!" I screamed. "Take one step, and I swear to the gods I will end this bastard here and now!"
To my surprise, they didn't. To a man, the guards took one look at the blood seeping slowly from the mage's throat and put up their swords. Behind them, I could see Briasus looking back and forth from me to the guards, obviously weighing the merits of keeping his identity hidden versus taking me apart.
"Alright, here's what's going to happen," I said, doing my best to keep my voice level. "Devoren, you're going to use your magic to transport Sascha and me out of here safely. In exchange, we let you live. Sound fair?"
He started to nod, then thought better of it and agreed hoarsely.
"Good," I said. "I'm not going to give you a destination and risk these bastards hearing it, so you just pick a place and take us there, but know that if you try anything cute, like popping us into a jail cell or off a cliff, it'll be the last thing you ever do. Now do it."
With the sage mincing on his tiptoes in an effort to avoid my knifepoint, the two of us marched awkwardly across the room until we stood next to Sascha. Then, grabbing both our arms, Devoren began to chant, liquid syllables that rolled off his tongue and brushed past our ears without being retained. Around us, the room twisted and blurred, and my grip on my dagger tightened. There was a momentary feeling of weightlessness, and then the world untwisted itself again and we found ourselves on the doorstep of a modest townhouse, just a few blocks from the still-visible front door of the Acadamae building.
"There," Devoren said, sweating with exertion. "I've done as you asked. May I please go?"
"Certainly," I said, removing my dagger from his chin. Then I swung hard and brought the pommel down on the back of his head, sending him crumpling to the pavement.
"Eando!" Sascha yelled, appalled.
"What?" I asked. "He'll live. Come on, let's get out of here."
23 Erastus, 4707 ar
We were fools to think it would be so easy.
For three days we laid low in one of the cheaper inns in Old Dock, leaving only under cover of darkness, and then only to do covert walk-bys of Sascha's shop. I was sitting on the mite-infested bed, counting out my meager supply of coins, when Sascha returned from the last one.
"Well?" I asked.
"The same," she said, removing the heavy cloak that shrouded her form, then hanging it on a hook. "Still no sign of surveillance. No guards, no suspicious characters, no magical auras—nothing. It looks like they've either forgotten about us or decided to leave us be."
"Which is exactly why I don't like it," I said, scooping up the coins and dumping them back into my purse.
"Me either," she agreed. "Neither the Mantis nor the Korvosan Guard are known for their leniency."
"And there's no chance that they might have legitimately overlooked your shop?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Not hardly," she said. "Unless you think Devoren suddenly grew a spine and decided to cover up our names."
I snorted. "So it's a trap."
"Yup."
"And we're going in anyway."
"Yup."
"I'll get my coat."
Outside, the two of us moved quickly and silently through the city's restless darkness, keeping our faces hidden within our cloaks as best we could. When at last we arrived at Sascha's street, it was as she said—quiet, dark, and seemingly unobserved. My skin itched with unseen eyes.
"You're sure this is necessary?" I asked.
"Listen, tomb-robber, you got me into this mess, and I'll be damned if I'm going to hear any whining from you now. I don't know how long it'll be before things cool down, or if any of my property will still be here when it does. I need to pick up some coins and choice items to get me through, and you still want those damn boxes, so buck up or shut up. We're going in. Ready?"
The Compass Stone: The Collected Journals of Eando Kline Page 7
