by Ben Hale
Shadow made his way to the back, where a door led to the kitchens. He ducked through the opening and passed women and men shouting, the food carrying delicious scents to his nose. Then he reached the rear door and swung it open, revealing a small creek attached to the back.
Winding behind the rear of other buildings, the creek was nearly invisible from the main streets, allowing the taverns to carry trash outside the city without being noticed. A single boat rested there, but instead of boarding, Shadow pressed a hidden rune outside the door.
He frowned when the stream did not shift direction and pressed the rune again. Nothing happened except a dull glimmer in the grain of the wood, suggesting the magic was still present but had not been used in some time.
Shadow had not visited the Ilumidora guildhall in some time, years in fact, but he’d assumed it would still work. If this entrance was shut, he doubted the others were open, and he would have to find another entrance to the Thieves Guild.
“Move and I’ll gut you.”
Shadow smiled. “I need a guide, and one appears . . .”
Chapter 3: Thieves Guild
“Turn around,” the voice said. “Slowly.”
“You told me you would gut me if I moved.”
The voice grunted in irritation. “Just do what I say.”
“What you said the first time, or the second time?” Shadow asked. “If you are going to threaten, you need to do it right.”
“Just turn around,” he snapped. “I won’t gut you.”
Shadow rotated to find himself facing one of the cooks. The elf wore a dingy apron, his body a little rounded in the center, his arms flabby. No doubt a sentry for the guild, the elf had probably partaken too liberally of the rich meats and breads the tavern provided. Although his appearance did not intimidate, the blade did, and Shadow recognized the mark of a seeker on the glass blade. The small dagger seemed to bend of its own volition, pointing to Shadow’s heart with every motion. The less-than-intimidating elf could be defeated, but the seeker blade could move at the command of its owner, making the small man a real threat.
“You don’t look like one of the Ravens,” the man said.
“You don’t look like a thief,” Shadow retorted.
The elf looked to his belly and his face went pink. He jabbed the dagger into Shadow’s midsection, his eyes glimmering with hatred. A shout came from the kitchens and the elf reached out and caught Shadow’s tunic, pushing him toward the small boat floating in the stream behind the tavern.
“Get in,” he growled. “And bind your hands with those.”
He used the dagger to point at the chains sitting on the ship. Shadow did as requested and watched the dagger bend to continue to point at Shadow’s heart, the glittering point unwavering as Shadow sat on the bench and shackled his hands.
“Who are you?” the man demanded.
“Shade.”
The thief tapped a rune on the boat and it glided away, joining a trio of trash-laden boats on their way to a descending plume of water. The thief may not have been skilled in combat, but he never took his eyes from Shadow.
“You belong to the Thieves Guild?” Shadow asked.
“If you are a Raven, the guildmaster will cut out your heart,” he said.
“So you do work for the guild.”
The man scowled. “I know you recognized my dagger, so I’ll remind you that it obeys my will as much as my hand. Disobey me, and it will cut you to pieces.”
“Is Guildmaster Sethig still in command?” Shadow asked.
The man glared at him. “You know the Ravens killed him. His son has taken his place.”
Shadow frowned at the revelation. Such an assassination would have reached his ears, unless it was recent. It did explain why the entrance to the guildhall had been shuttered and showed that the Ravens had expanded.
“When?” Shadow asked.
“I ask the questions,” the man said with a sneer.
The boat passed under a building, the creek narrowing to travel in a tight space. Darkness briefly swallowed them, and Shadow phased to his elemental form. The chains passed through his flesh to clank on the floor of the boat. In the gloom, the man’s eyes widened, and the dagger leapt for Shadow’s heart.
The blade passed through him and plunged into the wood of the boat, digging deep into the wood. The blade quivered, unable to release itself, while Shadow flitted through the darkness to the man’s back, his arm turning solid to wrap around the man’s neck, Shadow’s own blade glittering on the man’s jugular.
“I think it’s time I asked the questions, don’t you think?”
The man nodded vigorously. “What do you wish to know?”
“Seth is now leading the guild?” Shadow asked.
“For six days, now,” he said.
“Tell me how to get into the guildhall,” Shadow said.
“I can’t allow a Raven into the hall,” the elf said, his voice cracking. “It’s the only one left.”
Shadow spun him about. “What do you mean, the only one left?”
“The Ravens eliminated the halls in Herosian and Terros,” he said.
“When?”
“Last week,” he said. “We just received word, and Seth ordered the entrances here shut. But you would know all this if you were—”
“I’m not a Raven,” Shadow said.
Shadow scowled and looked beyond the man. Six months ago, he’d been in the guildhall of Herosian, eating with allies after helping a pair of the thieves complete an assignment. Much of the talk had centered around the Ravens still controlling Keese, where they’d forced the Thieves Guild out a few years ago. And now they were down to just one hall?
“How do I get inside the Ilumidora hall?” Shadow repeated.
“In the under city,” he said. “South side, last room on the right, behind the red wall. There’s a rune on the light orb.”
“You’ve been most helpful,” Shadow said.
“I could take you there,” the elf said.
“I work better alone,” Shadow said.
The elf’s hand twitched toward the dagger, his eyes dropping to the stuck seeker blade. He licked his lips. “You’ll need my help,” he said, his voice friendly.
Shadow smiled—and then evaporated. The boat had just passed into another tunnel, and Shadow used the darkness to escape. The elf snatched the dagger and swung, just as the boat passed into the light. Shadow was gone, and the chains were around the elf’s wrists.
As the elf cursed, Shadow dropped off the river and plunged into a lower stream. The current carried him downward to a column of water that brought him even lower. He snagged the side of a boat and allowed it to carry him all the way to the bottom of the city. Then he pulled himself free, eliciting shouts from those on board, and slipped into the crowd. Weaving his way through, he reached a street that descended under the lake, the tunnel of aquaglass leading to the lower city.
Originally built as a place of training for the army and storage for goods, the underwater network of aquaglass tunnels and buildings had gradually been overtaken by others. In the darkened depth of the lake, and in the shadow of the enormous city above, the poor lived in squalor.
Many of the factory workers and outcasts from higher houses lived in cramped quarters, dirty rooms, and even the streets of the undercity. Stripped of the gilded lights of the upper city, the people turned to what mattered most.
Children laughed and flitted about, playing in the underwater tunnels. Fathers returned from working an overnight shift in the light orb factories while mothers washed clothes and cooked. The tunnels smelled of fried fish and lemon.
Shadow passed side corridors and small houses, all built inside large aquaglass chambers. Many rooms were built of scraps of wood and stone, an invisible city that the noble elves did not wish to see.
Nearing the heart of the lake, the ground rose upward, turning into the island the queen’s tree rested upon. The tunnels came to an end a short distance from the royal tree. Unbeknownst to
her, the Thieves Guild had defied the edict to not build too close.
Shadow entered a small chamber that had once been a storeroom. Water leaked down the walls, giving the air a musty feel, while fish swam in the murky depths beyond. The room was empty except for a pile of scattered trash and a dim light orb hanging in the corner. Shadow reached to the light orb and turned it. Spotting the rune, he pressed it, pleased the thief had spoken honestly. The wall adjacent shimmered.
He reached out and pressed his hand against the aquaglass. Its appearance remained solid, but his hand passed through the mirage, allowing him to step into the secret corridor beyond. Shadow smiled and twisted a matching light orb at the side, returning the wall to its former solidity.
The corridor was dark and silent, and Shadow advanced down the aquaglass tunnel until it turned to earth, and he entered the island. Massive roots suddenly appeared, wrapping around the tunnel, the limbs thick and gnarled. A light appeared ahead and Shadow slowed as he approached the cavity hidden beneath the royal tree.
Hundreds of feet high, the base of the trunk was hollow. With a dwarven ascender set against one wall, the many levels contained holes and gaps in the floor, with ropes and climbing walls connecting the levels. Thieves ascended and descended, using the maze to train.
Traps and pitfalls littered the climbing surfaces. One young man struggled where an anti-magic web had caught him. A woman worked to loosen him, her scolding words harsher than necessary, suggesting a deeper tension.
Roots were abundant, some as thick as a house, others as small as his body. All supported the sentient tree. Shadow reached out and caressed the bark nearby, murmuring his praise. Holding the castle aloft and hiding the Thieves Guild beneath, the sentient tree bore a mischievous streak that Shadow admired.
Foregoing the ascender, Shadow slipped to the shadows at the back and caught a thread of shadow. It pulled him up the darkened wall. He passed through a smaller gap in the floor and ascended to the next level.
A pair of thieves passed by, and he ducked into a storeroom, flitting to a small window at the back. He phased to shadow and leapt through as the women entered, their tense conversation referring to a thief that had failed a challenge in the past week.
As he ascended the interior of the tree, more thieves appeared. He flitted from shadow to shadow, even falling into step behind a burly troll thief. Phasing to his elemental form, he glided behind the troll all the way to the ascender.
The troll turned, and Shadow ascended the wall, using the gloom to reach the highest level of the guildhall. From there he scaled the wood to a small structure at the top, the guildmaster’s quarters. Then he settled on the roof to wait.
From his perch he could see all the way through the patchwork of floors, so he watched the movement of the thieves. On previous assignments from Elenyr he’d worked with the Thieves Guild, but Shadow had not returned in years, and time had a way of changing things. Many he knew by name, and he would have even called them allies. He did not have friends.
His patience was rewarded when he spotted the guildmaster in another ascender, this one descending from the top of the guildhall, likely coming directly from the queen’s own castle. He had a companion, one Shadow recognized as Gendor, feared member of the Assassin’s Guild—the Blade Ghost.
“Interesting,” Shadow murmured, leaning forward.
Clad in a burgundy tunic and dark cloak, Gendor was lean and muscular. He carried a thin sword at his side and an ugly knife with two prongs in the opposite sheath. His gaze was cold, his expression even more so.
Seth, the guildmaster at his side, presented a stark contrast. Affable and quick to smile, the man was part dwarf and had served under his father for nearly a century. His red hair had gone silver, and then gone completely, leaving him bald. His beard was thick and braided. Shadow knew Seth to be a stalwart defender of stealing only from the wealthy, and accepting thieves into his guild that did more than steal. Despite his infamous occupation, he sought men and women of honor. But this time his smile was gone, and his features were dark with anger.
“You mean to come to my guild and demand my allegiance?” Seth demanded. “My answer has not changed.”
“Then you are a fool,” Gendor said.
The ascender came to a halt and the two men stepped off, but Seth turned to face him. “You know, I’ve never liked you, and I doubt Guildmaster Loralyn supports what you are trying to do.”
“The Assassin’s Guild is evolving,” Gendor said. “And it’s time you found your true masters.”
“The seven assassins?” Seth scoffed. “There are hundreds of thieves.”
“Especially among the Ravens,” Gendor said coolly.
Seth’s eyes narrowed. “They may be gaining strength, but they will not last the century.”
“They will with my support,” Gendor said.
Seth scowled. “You would ally with the Ravens? They are thugs and brutes, and the Raven doesn’t care if blood is spilt.”
“Neither do I,” Gendor said, tapping the hilt of his sword.
“I’ll report this to Guildmaster Loralyn,” Seth growled.
“Be my guest,” Gendor said. “But I’ve been summoned to a full Assassin Council, and who knows what might happen.” He chuckled and retreated to the ascender. “I do hope you will reconsider. I would hate to see your guild become my enemy.”
“I will never bow to you,” Seth spat.
“I thought you might say that,” Gendor said, and his eyes flicked to the base of the chamber. “So I’ll leave you with some encouragement.”
Shadow followed his gaze and spotted a dozen black clad figures appear in the lower tunnels, at the entrance Shadow had used. Their faces hidden behind silver masks, they drew their blades and darted into the hall.
The thieves were quick to draw their weapons, and the shouts of battle rang under the roots of the great tree. Gendor smirked as he ascended out of sight while Seth pulled his axe and dropped into a hole in the floor. Unseen, Shadow dropped into a different hole and fell through the roots toward the base, a shadowblade materializing in his hand.
Chapter 4: The Bloodsworn
Shadow dropped through the labyrinth of giant roots and caught a patch of shadow behind a home, using it to swing closer to the conflict. The light in the guildhall was too bright to use much of his magic, but his advantage was anonymity.
He flipped to the top of the root and raced along its length, eyeing the battle below. Two score thieves were present in the guildhall, but the attackers were more skilled, and blood already darkened the floor.
Shadow reached the end of the root and slipped free, landing behind one of the attackers. He darted in, striking once, before flitting back into the shadows. The man slumped to the floor, the woman he was about to kill scrambling backward as her attacker perished.
Seth charged into the battle and struck at an assassin, bringing his axe to bear on the lithe figure, but the killer was too quick, and spun around the guildmaster, using their sword to wound a thief behind the guildmaster. The attacker slapped Seth on the side of his skull, making it clear he could have killed him, but chose not to.
“To me!” the guildmaster bellowed, and the thieves collapsed towards him, forming a defensive ring. A glance revealed that no thieves were dead, but many were injured.
“Three lives we must take,” one of the killers said, his deep voice disturbingly cold. “One for each week Gendor has awaited an answer.”
“You’re not killing any of them,” Seth snarled.
“And who is going to stop us?” another killer asked, flicking her sword at two young thieves, causing them to recoil. “You?”
“Actually, I will.”
All eyes lifted to Shadow, who sat atop a nearby root. He flipped a knife in his hands, lazily, like the battle was already won. One of the killers stabbed a finger at Shadow, barking an order, and two of the assassins separated from the group, converging on him, both raising crossbows.
Shadow t
urned elemental, allowing the bolts to pass through his shadowy body, and plunge into a root. Shadow turned corporeal and smiled as the chamber shuddered, and dust rained down on all of them.
“Have you ever heard the story of why Seth’s father chose this place to make his guildhall?”
Shadow dropped to the ground as the assassins looked about uncertainly. The chamber trembled again, and one of the giant roots shifted. Seth, a broad smile on his face, retreated toward the center of the hall, urgently whispering to the others.
“It was because he made a friend,” Seth said, drawing the killers’ attention. “She doesn’t like many people—and hates those who hurt her.”
“My apologies for not introducing you,” Shadow said as one of the roots split open and wood reached out, forming large spears. “I’d like you to meet Urindilial, queen of all trees.”
Wood groaned as the other roots split, shifting the levels of the guildhall and crushing rooms. A storeroom crumbled and barrels fell, shattering on the floor. Light orbs disintegrated, plunging the room into a network of shadows.
“Kill them!” the assassin shouted. “Quickly!”
The assassins darted in, but the spears of wood streaked forward, the spikes at the end impaling the two closest to the thieves. Men screamed as spears the size of a man’s leg burst through their bodies.
Shouting orders, the assassins charged, weaving between the snapping wood in an attempt to reach the thieves, only to be met by Shadow. Using the newfound darkness, Shadow wrapped himself in the body of a silver reaver.
His body grew and widened, his arms swelling with strength, long spines rising from his spine. Releasing an excited bellow, Shadow lumbered into the fray, striking at the killers with the spikes extending from his hands. Assassins shrieked as they were thrown about, their bodies striking walls or caught midair by the roots of Urindilial, only to be torn asunder.
Shadow smashed a meaty fist into a woman, knocking her sprawling. Then he picked up a man and tossed him at the wall. More roots formed into claws that caught the man and crushed him.
