The Way of Thieves

by K.N. Lee

  She crouched on the ground, placing her hand on the side of a barrel. Her fingertips tingled and she shivered.

  “Did you find it?” Brenden asked.

  She ran a hand through her long, wavy red hair. “Whatever is calling to me is in this barrel.”

  “What are you waiting on?” he asked.

  “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  “Scared? What are you scared of?”

  “I’m not sure. Somehow, whatever this is feels important. Not just to me, but to us. Whatever is in this barrel is going to affect the two of us, but I don’t know how. It feels like something we’ve been searching for for a long time, but at the same the time, I have no idea what it is.”

  Brenden’s lips scrunched together and moved back and forth on his face. He shrugged, then opened the barrel. Clothes came out of the barrel first. He tossed them on the ground near their feet. Then he pulled out blankets and trinkets, then several books. He continued until there was nothing left inside of the barrel. All of its contents lied scattered on the ground.

  “That’s all that’s in there. Are you sure you sensed something inside of there?”

  But Keira was no longer looking at the barrel. She stared at the small pile of books. The hair on the back of her arms raised, spreading chill bumps across her body. She knelt on the ground and began grabbing the books one by one. None of them appeared too important. Each book had no words on the outside. After nearly re-stacking the entire pile, she stopped at the second to last book. It tingled in her hand, and when she reached out with her senses, she felt warmth travel through her body. She stood, clutching the book to her chest.

  “Did you find it?” Brenden asked.

  She nodded.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Keira opened the book. It didn’t look like a book of importance. The entire book was handwritten by a person rather than a professional scribe. Its handwriting was neat, but not overly beautiful.

  “What is it?” Brenden repeated.

  “A journal.”

  “A journal?” he asked. “Whose?”

  She flipped the pages back to the beginning where she saw a name written in beautiful script. “Miranya.”

  “Who’s Miranya?” he asked.

  “I don’t know—it seems familiar—but I don’t know…”

  “Hmm,” Brenden muttered.

  “But I feel it’s important.”

  “Well, you don’t have time to read it right now. Grab it and you can read it later.”

  She nodded, tucking the old book into her robes. A large weight lifted off of her shoulders, and she felt like she could leave the vault now.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  Brenden nodded and the two of them rushed out of the vault.

  48

  Uriah paced back and forth. He couldn’t stand being out of the loop. With the past few years in the Thieves Guild, he thought ht would have gotten used to it. Mirabelle had always kept him in the dark, especially lately. But now that he was back in the field, he wanted to be front and center.

  Soon his task of watching the little sorcerers grow up would be complete. They would lose their usefulness soon. Uriah still didn’t know what he thought about that. A part of him had a connection with the two of them, especially Brenden, but another part of him wanted to be free of the two brats.

  He looked at the ground at the two additional dead sorcerers he’d killed while waiting on the brats. Uriah was tired of protecting the two of them. They made so many mistakes, all because they were too afraid to take lives. They were becoming a liability. If they weren’t needed for the Thieves Guild uprising, Uriah would—he didn’t know what he’d do. Could he get rid of them? Could he kill them if it was required? He shook his head, no wanting to think on it.

  Brenden and Keira appeared around the corner. Uriah grinned at them. He was more than ready to leave the cursed sorcerers city. They had stayed well past their welcome.

  “It’s about time you showed up,” Uriah growled.

  Brenden popped through the invisible barrier. A noticeable pop echoed in Uriah’s ear. Keira came through soon after, and the pop repeated.

  “What was that?” Brenden asked. “I can’t hear you on the other side of the barrier.”

  “I said it’s about bloody time you two showed up. Are you ready?”

  Brenden nodded.

  “Do you have the scepter?”

  Brenden reached into his robes and produced a small scepter three-foot in length, with a round glass marble the size of his fist at its tip. The entire scepter was bronze, and it appeared frail.

  “All of this was for that puny thing?” Uriah asked.

  “This is what you asked for. The Scepter of Reverum.”

  “It’d better work,” Uriah grumbled.

  “What exactly are you trying to accomplish with it?” Brenden asked.

  Uriah raised his brows. “Ah, wouldn’t you like to know? Well, I’ll tell you what, Brenden, I would like to know was well, but to be honest, I know about as much as you do.”

  “I doubt that,” Brenden muttered.

  “Where is Seraphina?” Rycroft asked.

  “Dead,” Brenden said. “She’s been cauterized.”

  “Cauterized? My explosives wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

  “Nope. It wasn’t your explosives. We’re guessing it was some defense mechanism inside the vault. It must have triggered when the door blew to pieces.”

  “Pieces?” Uriah asked.

  “We could no longer find a door after the explosives went off,” Brenden admitted.

  “We have no time to waste, let’s get out of here,” Uriah said.

  “Agreed,” Brenden and Keira said in unison.

  Uriah led them out of the dungeon and into the castle. Chaos surrounded them. People stumbled everywhere. No one could see. Uriah couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of him. He stopped, grabbed a pouch of dragon powder, used his pinky to scoop a little bit of the black powder. Uriah brought his pinky to his nose, and snorted the black dragon powder. His head spun, and he grew dizzy, but he shook it off. Everything came into focus. He could see in the dark once more. Uriah had chosen to snort more dragon powder this night than he ever had in the past, but it was necessary.

  “Come on, follow me,” Uriah whispered.

  He heard Rycroft snorting his powder in the background, but for Brenden and Keira, it was unnecessary. They could see him, and it worried Uriah. Could other sorcerers see in the dark as well, or was this only because Brenden and Keira had a hand in casting the spell, or were they just special. Either way, he would need to be careful around those two.

  “Rycroft, it is time.”

  Rycroft nodded, then tinkered with the gadget in his hands. Explosions echoed all around them. Chunks of castle cluttered to the ground. Dust filled the air, beautiful gray powder fluttered to the ground. Uriah snorted it in. It wasn’t magical like the dragon dust, but still, it burned in his nostrils, and it felt good. The castle would definitely need repair.

  “How many explosives did you have?” Brenden asked.

  Rycroft grinned. “Enough”

  “All right. It’s time. Let’s go,” Uriah said.

  He ran straight, then turned left. Uriah didn’t stop. He continued moving. They needed to leave, and he was ready.

  “Uriah!” Brenden called.

  Uriah stopped as he rounded another corner. He turned to Brenden and glanced at the boy. Brenden was panting, and his eyes were crossed.

  “Where are you going? This the opposite direction as the entrance,” Brenden said.

  “Are you insane?” Uriah asked. “There’s no way we’ll be able to leave the same way we came.”

  Brenden’s eyes furrowed. “There’s no other way out. I looked at the castle maps along with you. There is but one way in and one way out.”

  Uriah grinned. “Don’t worry. We created a new one.”

&nb
sp; “What?” Brenden asked.

  Uriah didn’t respond. Instead, he continued moving forward. He ran down another few halls, turning where he needed, until he reached the east wing of the castle. One sorcerer stood near the destroyed walls. Rycroft had done a fine job. The moonlight could be seen edging into the broken wall of the castle.

  “Halt!” the sorcerer said.

  Uriah grabbed a dagger from his sash, stopped running, then threw it at the sorcerer. Magic left the sorcerer’s fingertips at the same time, and Uriah dropped to the ground. The magic followed him, slamming into his chest, but it dissipated as it contacted him. He reached up and touched the dragon pendant around his neck. He’d completely forgotten about it. Uriah stood, and noticed the sorcerer laid dead on the ground, Uriah’s dagger protruding from his neck, hilt out. Reaching down, Uriah grabbed the dagger. He didn’t bother wiping it off as he returned it to his scabbard.

  “Come on!” Uriah shouted as he stepped through the rubble and outside the castle.

  The others trailed him close, and they didn’t have to go far. A carriage and wyverns waited on them. Tedlyha grinned at them as they approached.

  “Well done, Tedlyha,” Uriah said. “Everyone into the carriage.”

  Brenden didn’t try to argue anymore. He did as he was told.

  Uriah shook his head. If only the boy would always do what he was told without question. Things would have been so different.

  Once everyone was inside, they carriage began to move. It didn’t follow a leisure pace, but the wyverns ran hard. They nearly made it to the gate when sorcerers began giving chase.

  “Open the doors!” Uriah shouted to Brenden.

  “How?” Brenden demanded.

  “Use a reverse spell. Make them the opposite of closed.”

  Brenden closed his eyes to concentrate. Meanwhile, Uriah leaned out of the caravan window and began throwing knives at the sorcerers who gave chase. He dared not glance ahead. Uriah shivered.

  He heard the crack of doors and then he felt at the wyverns and caravan gallop and roll over a door. He saw it pass under the carriage as they continued out of the city. Uriah grinned. They weren’t out of the water yet, but they were beginning to get dry.

  The back half of the carriage blew off with a spell. They were exposed to the night air, the crisp, beautiful night air. The stars shone brightly above them. Uriah continued throwing knives at the sorcerers mounted on wyverns chasing them.

  Brenden and Keira threw attacks at them as well. Though, they didn’t use throwing knives, but magic. From Brenden’s fingertips, red spirals of flame appeared that he tossed at the sorcerers who followed them. Keira’s hands also glowed, hers a faint orange, with spheres of ice that flew through the air to strike the sorcerers and their wyverns.

  Uriah shivered, thinking they’d both learned their magical abilities awfully early. He wondered if Mirabelle could face the two of them. Sweat beaded along his forehead, and nervousness struck him hard for the first time in a long time. Then he saw the two vials at their feet. Dragon scale elixir. He sighed in relief. They weren’t too powerful yet. Good. The Thieves Guild still had a chance.

  After a few more hundred feet, the sorcerers no longer gave chase. Between Uriah’s knives, and Brenden and Keira’s magic, they were either injured or killed.

  “Well done, everyone. Let’s now go home,” Uriah said.

  (wagon or caravan?)

  49

  Forscythe was crowded as ever, and Brenden looked around in surprise. He’d never seen the thieves’ city so full before. There were many faces Brenden didn’t recognize and he wondered if they were thieves at all, or if they had been, but they’d moved into other cities and all returned.

  Why had everyone returned?

  Was whatever Mirabelle was planning that large? He noticed many thieves from the neighboring city of Tyrekkeal.

  “What is this?” Brenden whispered.

  Uriah grinned at him as he secured the reins of the wyverns who pulled the carriage. “They’re all waiting for you.”

  “Me?” Brenden asked.

  Uriah stepped out of the carriage and grabbed Brenden on his way out. He pulled on his throat tight and held Brenden off of his feet.

  “I bring you our champion!” Uriah yelled.

  The crowd cheered.

  “Champion?” Brenden gurgled.

  “It is time the Thieves Guild rose to the top. Our time is now!” Uriah continued.

  Mirabelle sashayed toward them. She stood in front of Uriah, and brushed her hands against his cheek.

  “Brenden, we’ve been waiting on you,” she said.

  “Put me down,” Brenden said.

  Uriah let go of Brenden, and he crumpled to the ground.

  He stood, brushing the dust off of his cloak, then glared straight into Mirabelle’s eyes. “I need to speak with you and Uriah … alone.”

  Mirabelle cackled. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Brenden. We aren’t going anywhere until you complete the spell.”

  “What spell?” he asked.

  She took a step back from him and lifted a large blue rolled paper in the air. The crowd cheered. She unrolled it and Brenden saw the elegant lines. At first it all looked like gibberish, but after studying it for a few moments, he comprehended it. He saw the different colors—the different elements. They mixed together in a complex pattern, combining into one. And yet, it was focused, and it formed into blankets … blankets of protection, weaved together like a giant patterned quilt.

  “A spell.” Mirabelle paused. “A spell that you’re going to reverse.”

  “This is a spell of protection …”

  “Yes. And you need to reverse it.”

  “Is this spell already in effect? Is this how the nobles are protected?” he asked.

  “No. They are protected by amulets and charms. But they are protected all the same. You will cast this spell of protection on them, then you will reverse it with the Scepter of Reverum.”

  “I don’t understand.” Brenden wiped his brow. “Removing a protection spell wouldn’t—”

  “I’m not telling you to remove it. I’m telling you to reverse it. This spell offers protection to all nobles and sorcerers. Once it is reversed, it will offer no protection to nobles or sorcerers. Not only will it offer no protection, it will create a negative energy, making nothing able to protect them. And all their charms will be useless. All their defensive spells will be useless.”

  Brenden’s eyes widened. “What are you planning?”

  “To remove the Nobles Guild.”

  “Remove?” Brenden asked.

  “They will no longer be needed when we’re in their place.”

  “No.” Brenden took a step back, shaking his head. “No, I will not let you start a genocide.”

  “You’ve always been a kind man, Brenden. You know, I never understood it. When I placed Uriah as your guardian, I thought I had the right man for the job. He was cruel, and good at it. I thought he could mold you … but I was wrong. But, you will help us.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  A scream echoed from behind him. Brenden turned around to see Keira being held in place by two thieves. Uriah held a dagger to her throat as he looked into Brenden’s eyes. He ripped the dragon pendant off of her neck.

  Brenden shattered. His emotions raised in his chest, and his entire body shook. It wasn’t anger, or hatred, but fear. Keira was the only person he had in his life, and he could not let anything happen to her.

  “Unhand her,” he growled.

  “I’m afraid they can’t do that. You see, my orders prevent them from doing so. I told them to slit her throat if you didn’t do what I ask. So, I will tell you again, you will help us.”

  Now his fear turned to anger and he glared daggers at Mirabelle. Hatred filled him. If he escaped somehow, he would make sure Mirabelle paid for this.

  “Why me?” he asked.

  “Because you are the only one who can.”

  “I have
one question.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Who are my parents. Who are they really?”

  Mirabelle grinned. “It does not matter now. They are dead.”

  Brenden growled.

  Mirabelle sashayed to the wagon, grabbed the Scepter of Reverum and handed it to him. “Cast the spell.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “If you cast the spell with the Scepter of Reverum in your hand, it will cast the opposite instead.”

  Brenden reluctantly took the scepter. He looked to Keira. She stood frozen, but she tried to shake her head. Brenden could see it. It was slight because the dagger was pressed hard into her flesh, but she had tried to tell him not to go through with it. Brenden wished it were that simple. But if he didn’t go through with it, they would kill her. And he couldn’t live with himself if she were gone. He wouldn’t live with himself. No, they knew his weakness. But he would find a way for them to both escape. Somehow.

  He closed his eyes, concentrating. Brenden could feel all the elements around him in the air and in the ground. He concentrated on them all, then he opened his eyes and looked at the blueprint. It was complex. More complex than anything he’d ever seen or contemplated. Somehow it was combining firelight and waterlight together in such a way that Brenden didn’t comprehend. The two should cancel each other out, but the spell had them connected. He looked at several of the other designs and swirls showing up on the paper. It also combined earthlight and windlight. But it made no sense to Brenden. They were all opposite elements. They couldn’t be combined.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted.

  “You will find a way if you want your sister to live.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m new at this. I’m not a sorcerer.”

  “You sister will die,” Mirabelle said.

  Brenden cursed, and tried again to dissect the blueprint. He studied it for several more minutes before his eyes widened. Light. The common factor here was light. He couldn’t connect the fire and the water elements together, but he could string them together by their light element. Brenden focused, and pulled all the light out of the air, attaching elements to them and connecting them all together. It took a lot of time for his task to complete. The spell called for thousands of elements, built into thousands of intricate quilts. He worked on combining them all for almost a half an hour before he exhaled.