Thief Who Spat in Luck's Good Eye

by Michael McClung

  Magic was at heart a simple matter of impressing your will on reality, or so Holgren had explained to me long before. In practice, it was rarely that simple. It seemed that mages could spend weeks on the simplest of tasks though usually when somebody was paying them for their time rather than results.

  Without even realizing I was tired, I soon fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

  #

  Holgren woke me sometime before dawn. He had replenished the fire, and it burned higher and hotter than before. Good thing. It had begun to snow while I slept. The part of the room open to the sky had grown a snow-drift overnight. I watched as more flakes swirled in, driven by the howling wind.

  “At first light, we’re going to carry Ruiqi to the gates,” Holgren whispered. “I wanted to talk out our plans.”

  I looked over at her. She was still sitting up, propped against the wall. She was in some sort of trance state, motionless, arms raised to the sky, palms up. Her breathing was so slow as to be nearly imperceptible.

  “She’s preparing herself. And so should we.”

  “Did you figure out a way to deafen us?”

  “Yes, but only briefly. And if you speak at all, make any sound with your voice, the spell will unravel. Remember that. Don’t cry out, no matter what, until you’re sure it is safe to do so.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes where Athagos is concerned.”

  “This is what we came up with while you slept. We will carry Ruiqi to the gate at dawn as quietly as possible. I’ll perform the deafening, and we’ll stay out of sight in the square, much as you did when you dragged her back yesterday. Ruiqi will open the gates and call Athagos.”

  “The gates are already open.”

  “No, they’re slightly ajar. She plans to get the goddess’ attention quickly. You’ll see. When Athagos takes her, the argilleh should render her unconscious for at least a few seconds, hopefully longer, allowing you to transfer the necklace and us to slip past her into the Tabernacle.”

  He leaned back and stretched. “After that point,” he said through a yawn, “planning becomes futile. Can you suggest any changes or improvements?”

  “It may take a long while for Athagos to respond to Ruiqi, whatever she’s planning to do. Our deafness might wear off before that happens. I’d prefer to approach the Tabernacle from the opposite side and use Ruiqi’s suicide as a diversion. Unfortunately, I’ve got to hang around and drop off the necklace.” I looked at him. “That doesn’t mean you have to.”

  “Where you go, I go. No arguments.”

  “All right. What’s involved in renewing the spell, then, if it wears off before Athagos is incapacitated?”

  “Let’s just say we don’t want that to happen.”

  “Then what have we got to plug our ears?”

  “I’d love to have some wax, but there’s nothing except cloth. Or dirt, I suppose. I really doubt we can fashion anything that would do the trick.”

  “We’ll just have to hope for the best then.”

  He squeezed my hand and smiled. “We will make it through.”

  “Of course. Don’t we always?” But I wasn’t sure about this time. Not at all.

  We spent what remained of the night in each other’s arms, sharing warmth. Ruiqi sat as still as a statue, the only sign of life the slow rise and fall of her chest. Prepare as she might, though, I doubted anyone could truly be prepared for death at the hands and mouth of Athagos.

  As daylight crept up on us, she stirred at last. She lowered her arms and placed her palms against her forehead then put her fingertips to her lips and finally let her hands settle in what remained of her lap. “Please take me to see the dawn,” she said, voice serene. Of all her voices, that one disturbed me the most. I think. No one should be that calm facing imminent, certain death.

  We lugged her outside and found a low, stone wall to perch her on so she had an unobstructed view to the east. It was still snowing and bitterly cold. There was no way she could actually see the sun rise, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. Or perhaps she found it fitting.

  She let a couple of tears escape though she smiled that serene smile all the while. After a few minutes, she said, “I am ready,” and we helped her off the wall and carried her to her doom.

  #

  It was slow going through the snow-filled streets. One of us was constantly slipping. Finally, Holgren called for a halt and put Ruiqi on his back, getting a grip on her legs above the stumps and having her cling to his neck. I walked ahead, plowing some of the snow out of the way. I don’t know that it went any more quickly after that, but there were fewer spills.

  The moment I stepped into the square, Tha-Agoth’s voice filled my head.

  What are you planning, little thief?

  I stopped abruptly, and Holgren bumped into me. “What’s the matter?” he asked, and I held up a hand.

  “You said you’d stay out of my mind,” I said to Tha-Agoth. “Is your word good or not?”

  I said I would not enter your memories, and I have not. I made no such assertion in respect to your companions.

  “We do what we have to. I hope you can understand that. We have no choice. When we’re done, we’ll free you. That I promise.”

  Behind me, Holgren stiffened. “What are you doing?” he whispered. Not to me.

  “Tha-Agoth! Get out of his mind!”

  How dare you? How dare you deliver my sister to that monster? The ground beneath our feet trembled, and I caught an image of him twisting on his altar, beating his fists against the stone, the rod tearing at his flesh and fresh blood welling up.

  He would not break free. If he hadn’t yet, he wasn’t going to.

  “What choice do we have?” I asked him. “What do you owe her? Have the past thousand years taught you nothing? She betrayed you! If things had gone as planned, she would have killed you! Why would you want to protect her?”

  Silence for a time. Then, less furious, She is my twin, my sister, my wife. Whatever she has done, I will always love her in ways you cannot imagine. I cannot allow that dark mishap you name the Shadow King to have her.

  “And I have to send her to him. But I will free you as well, Tha-Agoth, and hopefully, you can bring her back. Only you can stop the Shadow King once and for all. Surely, a thousand years pinned like an insect have given you a taste for revenge.”

  Revenge is foreign to my nature. I will do what must be done, thief, but there will be a reckoning and not only with the Shadow King. Justice is not revenge.

  “I’ll accept that. Now, leave us alone to do what we must.”

  If she is harmed—

  “I know. I know. Quiet, please.” I waited a few seconds, and when he didn’t respond, I motioned Holgren forward. I didn’t have to tell him to go as quietly as he could.

  We trudged and stumbled past the wreckage of the Duke’s tent to the Tabernacle’s massive gates. There, I helped Holgren lower Ruiqi to the ground. When we had her safely deposited, I bent down and whispered in her ear.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  She looked at me and just shook her head, that small smile still playing on her lips.

  I got up and crept over to Holgren, who had taken his station two steps away behind the left-hand gate. I looked at her and wondered what she might have become had the Shadow King not netted her. I didn’t really like her, maybe because she was too much like me in a way. But I had begun to respect her. What a waste.

  She took one deep breath then gestured with the first two fingers of her right hand. The right-hand gate responded by flying open, slamming against the wall and shivering to pieces. The booming crash that accompanied it would have woken the dead. I was certain it had gotten Athagos’ attention.

  In an abnormally loud, commanding voice, Ruiqi cried out, “Athagos! Come to me!”

  Holgren touched my forehead with one suddenly glowing fingertip. The world went silent. I kept one hand on the necklace and my
eyes on Ruiqi, waiting for some sign of Athagos’ approach. I measured time by my speeding heartbeats.

  It was somewhere around thirty beats that I noticed Ruiqi’s eyes grow wide. At thirty-five, she had begun to writhe and shriek—in silent agony. I couldn’t hear her screams, but I could imagine them all too well. I hated it. I felt the necklace twitch under my fingers. At forty heartbeats, she had collapsed. At fifty, she was crawling across the threshold of the Tabernacle, pulling herself along through the snow, hand over hand. The necklace was squirming on my neck like a snake. I was glad I couldn’t see what would happen next. I’d seen that grisly trick far too many times already. I began to believe we might survive.

  Too soon. At about fifty-five heartbeats, I was preparing to take a peek around the remaining gate when my hearing returned. I was in sudden agony. Beside me, Holgren fell twitching to the snow-covered ground with a scream forcing its way past lips thinned in pain. I pitted my will against the force that was suddenly rushing through my body, ripping from me all control to my limbs, but it was impossible. I fell to the ground beside Holgren and felt my consciousness pushed back to some far, dusty corner. I was reduced to a spectator in my own body.

  Athagos’ magic had taken control. I no longer even had the power to scream. My body rose with the jerking, puppet-like movements I’d seen in the Duke and his men. I walked into the Tabernacle behind Holgren.

  I couldn’t direct my eyes, but I could make out Ruiqi’s truncated form deflating in Athagos’ embrace just fine with my peripheral vision. I waited and prayed for her last blow, her argilleh to kick in as the storm intensified.

  When Athagos tossed Ruiqi’s hide away and licked her lips, I knew despair.

  Athagos looked at me. She was beautiful. Her eyes were the same as her brothers now: stars ripped from the night sky rather than that unearthly blue I remembered. Her skin was the same flawless bronze. Her long, black hair floated loose around her shoulders, drifting on unseen currents of power. And her generous, pink mouth was curled into a smile.

  So good to see you again, she said to me without speaking. I enjoyed our last meeting. You bring such lovely gifts.

  “Go to hells, you crazy bitch.” I tried to say it, but of course, I couldn’t speak. Apparently, the thought was enough.

  My madness passes. I suppose I have you to thank for that. The mind heals more slowly than the body, however, and the process is more taxing. I require further sustenance. These magelings are much more…satisfying.

  Holgren was next. I couldn’t even close my eyes. After everything that had happened, we were both going to die in Thagoth after all.

  Athagos stretched her arms out, and Holgren jerked and twitched his way into her embrace. The rage and despair I felt defied words. She snaked her shapely arm around his waist, cradled his head—

  Then it happened. Athagos’ eyes grew wide, and she flung Holgren away and started clawing at her chest. I felt her grasp on me slip the tiniest fraction.

  I poured all my will into driving her out. Slowly, painstakingly, I began to re-exert control over my body, one digit at a time. Athagos fell to the snow-covered ground, still clawing at her chest. She had dug great, red furrows in her flesh now though they healed as I watched. Her limbs began to twitch, and she screamed—not with any magical element but a scream of rage and agony.

  And then in mid-thrash, she fell utterly still.

  I rushed all the way back into my body the way the tide races in to shore. I stumbled my way over to Athagos’ beautiful, frightening form, ripping at the necklace on my way. It came off immediately. I threw it at her head.

  It caught her on the jaw and fell down to the hollow of her throat. From there, each end snaked its way around the back of her neck; after a moment, I heard the faint snick of the clasp closing.

  “It was made for you, you bitch. Hope you like it.” I would have kicked her, but I didn’t have the coordination yet.

  “No time for that,” gasped Holgren. “She’ll wake any moment. Hurry.”

  We staggered off toward Tha-Agoth’s dome, stumbling like drunks through the storm and deepening snow. Holgren was right. I didn’t want to be around when she woke up. She’d rip us to shreds.

  It was easier to find my way this time despite the storm. I knew where I was going, and the dense foliage had thinned out with the onset of winter. I had just spied the doors to the Tabernacle itself when Tha-Agoth’s voice sounded in my ears.

  She wakes, Amra, and she is displeased. Eagerness mixed with a strange reluctance filled Tha-Agoth’s mental voice.

  “Holgren—”

  “I heard. Run!”

  We ran, neither of us daring to look back. Ours was a headlong rush to the dubious safety of Tha-Agoth’s prison. Bare branches whipped at our faces; snow-hidden roots sought to trip us up. The storm was intensifying. An already bitter wind had become a howling monster intent on driving us to the ground and burying us, one white flake at a time. And behind us, death was shaking off a dead mage’s final spell. It was a sad state of affairs that I had become at least somewhat accustomed to such situations. It didn’t lessen my fear in any way, mind you, but I no longer found it incredible.

  The granite bulk of the Tabernacle proper came into view, and I led Holgren toward the entrance of Tha-Agoth’s gold-topped dome through the wind-whipped, driving snow.

  I located the doors quickly enough. It was the massive snowdrift blocking them that slowed us.

  The entrance was situated in the cleft between the two domes, partly sheltered from the wind. Snow blew in but didn’t get blown back out. If the doors had opened inward, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

  Such is life. We clawed at the drift with numbed hands until we’d cleared enough away to try and open one of the doors. Together, we pulled on one of the massive, carved handles. Slowly, too slowly, the door began to inch outward.

  It opened a couple of hand spans, and then she was on us.

  What have we here? Two mice seeking shelter from the storm?

  I looked back out at the grounds. I didn’t see her anywhere. I looked back and saw that Holgren had got the door open just enough for one to slip in.

  “GO!” I screamed and shoved him through the opening over his protests. Then, a cold hand had me by the nape of the neck, and I was suddenly cartwheeling through the air.

  I tried to tuck into some sort of roll, but instead of the ground, my body connected with the trunk of a massive oak. I fell to a heap at its base. I didn’t move for a long while. I couldn’t even think about moving. The only reason I knew I was still alive was because of all the pain.

  I heard Holgren scream my name and then the thunderous boom of the door slamming shut, only slightly muffled by the storm. I wanted to look up and see what was going on, but I couldn’t seem to move my head.

  I am saving him for later, little one. He will keep. You and I have matters to discuss first. First matters. Matters of discussion, you see. You do, don’t you?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It hurt to speak. It hurt to breathe. Slowly, I willed my hands under me. Tremblingly, they responded. I wasn’t paralyzed. I would be dead soon, but I wasn’t paralyzed. It’s the little things that keep you going.

  I pushed myself up to a kneeling position, steadying myself with one hand on the oak’s ice-crusted trunk.

  You know. Do you know you know? Yes. I think so. In an eye blink, she appeared before me. Her backhand sent me skidding through the snow, face first. When I came to a stop, I spat blood and rolled over again, trying to gain my feet.

  “How can we have a discussion if you keep pummeling me?” I groaned.

  Discussion. Yes. We were having a discussion. Sometimes, I find it difficult to concentrate. Please forgive me. She yanked me off the ground by my collar and held me at arm’s length. My feet dangled inches from the ground. She studied me, turning me this way and that.

  This is it, I thought. She’s going to do it. I fumbl
ed for my knife. Hopeless, but I wasn’t going to just give in. I’d try to get her in the throat, maybe cut her vocal cords—

  She gave me a tooth-loosening, lip-splitting slap and shook me till all thoughts of going for my knife were jarred loose. It reminded me of growing up. The bad old days.

  How can we have a discussion if you insist on trying to harm me?

  “You always play with your food, or do you have a point you’re getting to?” A slow, stupid, doomed sort of anger was starting to well up in me.

  Ah, the mouse bares its teeth. The harvest comes home; the owl is in the orchard. The Shadow leashed the earth, you know, but couldn’t teach it to sing.

  “You’re raving mad, you know that?”

  She threw me down to the ground and sat down before me. She smiled again, a sunny, carefree smile that revealed perfect teeth and sent shivers down my spine.

  Oh. Yes. I know. It comes and goes. I don’t want to kill you, actually, but I probably will. I would like to apologize to you in advance for that.

  “Apology not accepted, you crazy bitch.”

  She brought her hand up to her neck and toyed with the necklace I’d put on her. Well, at least if I died, she wasn’t going to fare much better.

  Tell me about the chain.

  “Just a pretty trinket. Don’t you like it?”

  I never saw her move. She just had me by the throat all of a sudden. I felt my windpipe begin to collapse under the pressure of her grip.

  No lies, now. It makes my thoughts whirl, skirl, float away. And then all that’s left is the hunger. Understand?

  I tried to gag out a yes, settled for a nod.

  Good.

  She released me, and I drew in a tortured breath of frigid air.

  “Slave chain,” I choked out, “made for you. Shadow King. Go—to him.”

  I don’t know what kind of reaction I would have expected from her. The insane are, almost by definition, hard to predict. I can say without reservation that I did not expect the reaction my gasped words caused.