by J C Maynard
Kyan clenched his fists. Why couldn’t I ever find that file? I’ve looked everywhere in that orphanage. Kyan stood still and looked over at Vree Srine who stood in the group of Nightsnakes. Her eyes were wide and she gently shook her head. He read off her lips, “Don’t do it.” She turned to Riccolo. “Would you allow me a minute to talk with Kyan? I may be able to persuade him.”
Riccolo hesitated, but then backed away to let her speak with him. Vree came up to Kyan and knelt down. She whispered almost inaudibly, “Kyan, do not agree to help Riccolo. You have to escape.”
“What does he want me to do?”
“I don’t know, Riccolo hasn’t even told me. But he wants you to steal something . . . something very hard to steal. He wants you to do it because if Riccolo gets caught, it's all over for him, but he doesn’t care if you get killed. Run away.”
Kyan’s heart began to pound. “Is the file real?”
Vree spoke in her desert accent. “It doesn’t matter, Riccolo will kill you.”
Kyan tried to move his hands out of his ties. “Vree, is the file real?”
She looked down. “I was with him when he took it from the orphanage . . . but it doesn’t matter Kyan. It’s not worth your life. Say you’ll take the deal and then escape. You have to get out of the city.”
“I’m getting that file . . . Call Riccolo back.”
“Kya-”
“Call him back, Vree.”
Vree shook her head and walked back.
Riccolo smiled. “What do you say Kyan? Do you want answers?”
Kyan hesitated. “What do you want me to do?”
Riccole laughed. “I’m glad you’re smart. I have people that will pay a whole lot of money for what we steal. I have one client in particular that would like something very impressive to woo a woman he desires. He wants something that money can’t buy, and I have an idea of what to steal.” Riccolo fiddled with the deck of cards he always carried. “You see Kyan, our government likes to keep Ferramoor’s finest jewels and precious artifacts to itself. They store everything in a vault in the Palace. You’re the best thief around besides us, and if you get us rich, you’ll get your life back, privacy, and answers to your questions. I will not lay a finger on you unless you try to bring us down. No matter what you may think of me, I do not break my promises. Now do you have an idea of how to get to the Palace’s vault?”
Kyan hesitated. He was the Prince of Ferramoor, of course he knew how to get to the vault. The only problem was that Benja Tiggins was the only person with the key to the vault; but he knew where to go. However, there would be countless Guards, unlike anything he would have stolen in his life. And he hadn’t stolen anything in weeks and didn’t have a desire to do it; but then he thought of the file that Riccolo held. “I can figure it out.” said Kyan.
Riccolo smiled. “Bay, untie our guest. Everyone, we will accompany Kyan until we near the Palace to make sure he doesn’t run off. We leave in a half hour.”
The crooked roofs of Aunestauna cast an eerie glow in the moonlight, and twenty or so shadows bolted across them. The Nightsnakes ran across beams and jumped off chimneys, quickly making their way toward the sea, and toward the massive hill atop which stood the Palace. Beads of sweat dripped down Kyan’s forehead, for running in this body was much harder than running in the body of a Phantom.
They stopped on the roof of a mansion near the edge of the Palace walls. Riccolo turned to Kyan. “Stay in the vault for as little time as possible. Steal only what we’ve asked so as to make an escape easier. You meet us here immediately following your departure from the castle. Do not tarry. The guards cover the gates and the wall, but the wall has far fewer men.” He handed Kyan a light gray cloak.
“What is this for?” asked Kyan
“To get in,” said Riccolo, “you need to climb the Palace wall, the grooves of the stone blocks are big enough to wedge a finger in. The gray cloak will help you blend in with the white wall. It’s night so it’ll be hard for the Guard to see you. Once you’re over the wall, use the cloak as a carrier. Unless you know a better way.”
Kyan nodded.
“If you fail,” said Riccolo, “They’ll hang you before I can torture you. Now go.”
Kyan was halfway up the wall when he looked down — fifty feet of drop to the city below. The clouds moved quickly overhead and the city was quiet. His fingers burned from holding onto the gaps in the stone blocks and his boots barely clung to the small cracks. A strong gust of wind blew his gray cloak and swung his body which he pressed firmly into the wall so as to not be blown off. Raising his foot onto another crack a fragment of stone broke off, causing his foot to slip out from under him. His stomach dropped as he regained footing. If he fell, he could die. Another stone block. Another. After several minutes, he managed to put his hand over the top of the wall; but he quickly put his hand back on the last gaps between stones when he heard voices approaching from over the wall.
Two Guards walked toward Kyan, their armor clanking lightly as they walked. Kyan let out a soft sigh of relief as they passed him without noticing his presence. When they had walked out of earshot, he pulled himself over the ledge, briefly gazing down at the hundred foot wall and the Nightsnakes surrounding the Palace at two block increments.
Kyan took off his gray cloak and ran across the pathway on top of the wall. He dug through his memories as Eston and tried to visualize where the arches and walkways would take him. He ran across a stone bridge. After this, two lefts, down the staircase, another left. As he approached the main part of the palace, a moving torchlight appeared in the hall ahead. Kyan ducked behind a stone block on the edge of the bridge, holding its side so as not to fall a hundred feet down. A caravan of finely dressed men walked onto the bridge twenty feet from Kyan.
There was no way to hide. The men drew nearer and they were sure to see him hiding behind the stone block. Kyan frantically looked around and located an outcropping windowsill ten feet down from the bridge on a large turret of the East Palace Wing. Ten feet away; the men walked toward him. Kyan breathed in and jumped.
His mind went blank as he fell through the air; like a Cerebrian Phantom, he grabbed onto the windowsill, his legs swinging and hitting the wall. The men went on and crossed the bridge. Kyan lifted himself onto the windowpane and pressed lightly on the window; it was unlocked. He swung himself inside the Palace and into a bedroom where he saw an old woman sleeping. He silently crept across the room and out the door into a dimly lit corridor. I need the key to the vault. I need to find Benja. Taking a moment to visualize where he was in relation to Benja’s study, which sat near the North Wing courtyard, he sprung forward into the dark hallways of the Palace.
He bolted around the corner in a hallway lit only by moonlight; Benja’s door lay just ahead. But Kyan ducked into an alcove when he saw Senator An’Drui turn into the hallway far in the distance. Gliding in her fine purple dress, the senator approached Benja’s door and knocked, prompting Benja to emerge. “You wanted to see me Senator?” asked Benja as he shut the door.
“Yes. Now walk with me.” she said. Kyan eyed the keys hanging on Benja’s belt; he would never leave the keys alone in his room. Kyan followed them silently from alcove to alcove, using the shadows cast by the nearly full moon as coverage. He listened in. “. . . The King will not let Prophet Ombern authorize it and we must follow his orders. Ombern fails to recognize the danger of using those weapons if they were to fall into Xandria’s control; but we do need to use them. Tronum is afraid, and I’ve been here long enough to know he will not concede. We are being pushed back towards our borders, and they grow restless. We have to give them to the army and make it look as though Prophet Ombern did it. This is all for the greater good.”
Benja stopped. “The greater good can be interpreted in many ways Senator, ways which demand much more control on my end. Unleashing these things will ruin us. We don’t know how to control them.”
“We are losing, Mr. Tiggins!” she whispered. “And unless
we act, Aunestauna will burn. Fight for it in the Council and you will have the power to commence the plan.”
“This is a war of attrition, and we would contribute to the death! My responsibilities and capabilities are designed to keep Ferramoor safe, not to gamble.”
Desiring to listen more, Kyan had to shake his head to remind himself that the longer he waited, the more likely it was that he would be caught. He had picked pockets before, and removing the keys from Benja’s belt was no different. But Benja had been his friend since he was just a toddler of a prince. Then he thought of the files Riccolo held. So, standing in an alcove, Kyan reached out and snatched the keys as Benja passed, putting a finger between each one to prevent them from clattering. Benja and the Senator walked on, and Kyan ran silently across the floor.
Down the stairs, a right, a left, a back passage to circumvent a populated area of the palace, more stairs, a left, second corridor, around that bend, down more stairs, through another passageway far beneath the Palace; the vault. Marked by a large wooden door most likely two feet thick and twenty feet tall, Kyan had only seen it twice before as the Prince. It sat in a large, plain arch. Kyan lifted the ring of keys; time was running out; soon Benja would return to his room and realize the keys were missing.
Frantically, he put a key in the large golden lock on the door. He tried to turn it without success. Another key, no success. Please open. Another key. Turn, damn it! Open! Open! He froze; he could hear yelling far up the staircase leading to the rest of the Palace, and it grew louder quickly. Shit! He thrusted the next key into the door and turned it hard. No! Come on! Open! Three more keys. No success, and the yelling came closer. One key remained. He jammed it into the lock and turned it, but it did not budge. No! Damn it! Open! He took the key out and turned it over, jammed it in, and turned it. The lock spun around and the door creaked open.Kyan closed and locked the massive wooden door behind him, causing a gigantic thundering to echo around him.
From the length it took the echo to return, Kyan guessed that the room he was as massive as a cathedral nave. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, for the only light in the room was a small candle, almost burned out. Still a few inches left on the candle . . . someone must have been here within the past few hours. The darkness slowly faded into firelight, and after a few seconds, he began to make out a massive wall of gold ornaments and jewelry underneath an arched ceiling.
Hundreds of shelves, each fifty feet tall held countless necklaces and goblets of bronze and silver. Illuminated by the single candle, the shelves reflected so much light that he could easily walk through the chamber. The room was a great hall of treasure and riches, seemingly as ancient as the earth itself.
Kyan bent down next to a stack of dozens of crowns and picked one up, blowing the dust off. If he took it for himself, he wouldn’t have to steal anything for a decade.
The door of the vault shook, and yelling echoed outside of the giant room. He opened the gray cloak and placed the priceless crown inside, but stopped when he saw a pale glow out of the corner of his eye. He set down the crown and slowly rounded the corner of an aisle, blowing out the candle. Far in the blackened distance emanated a soft glow of white tinted blue. It looked as if all the stars in the night sky had settled into one spot and their light shone like a barely noticeable beam.
He dropped the candle on the ground and didn’t flinch when it clattered, nor did he pay heed to the ceaseless pounding and yelling at the vault’s door. The light seemed to move slowly toward him . . . no, he moved toward the light. His eyes glazed over as he stepped forward. He began to make out a wooden chest on a stand with a blue-white light streaming out from it. Another step closer, and he thought he could hear a voice speaking to him. His head felt light as if he were dreaming. Another step and he could see the lock on the box. More pounding on the door — Kyan did not quicken his pace. He reached forward and placed his hand on the splintered oak box, cool to the touch and seemingly vibrating with a current of energy. Looking at his key ring, he picked a strange, twisted key and slowly put it in the lock. Twist. The lock clicked and Kyan drew open the box only to be momentarily blinded by the light that came out.
After a few seconds, not only did his eyes adjust to the light, but the actual intensity of the light weakened. He sat on his knees and looked into the box, where, sitting in a blanket of velvet, lay a large stone. The stone looked as if it had no edge and it’s interior was swirling ribbons of white smoke; it shimmered like water, yet it resembled a glass orb. Starlight danced around inside of it and seemingly melted into Kyan, who reached down and picked it up. A strange sensation passed through his arm and the stone felt cold to the touch. Kyan shook his head out of the trance when a gigantic boom rang out and the door to the vault burst open followed by shouts of the Guard.
Kyan’s stomach dropped as he put the stone in the gray cloak and shut the box; he looked up at the shelves reaching to the ceiling and only one thought entered his mind, Hide.
Twenty or so Guards walked through the archway into the vault carrying torches. They scanned each aisle without success. Above their heads knelt Kyan on one of the stone arches that spanned the width of the room. No Guard had yet thought to look up, and if they did, they would barely be able to see his thin figure above the beam. There are too many of them, thought Kyan as he watched the fifty torches wind through the alleys of gold. Kyan silently slid himself along the beam until it curved enough downward for him to reach a bronze goblet embedded with marble. He cocked his arm back and hurled the goblet as far into the room as he could; it sailed above the alleys of treasure and landed with an enormous clatter in the back of the hall, knocking down stacks of glass.
A Guard signaled to some of the others. “You men go over there, we’ll block the doorway.” A majority of the soldiers slipped to the back of the room, and dispersed throughout the isles.
Kyan jumped from arch to arch, silently landing on the stone beams above the soldiers, until he reached the arch above the doorway, where five Guards stood, looking around in the darkness. Quickly, Kyan thought up a way out.
Slipping the key to the Vault out of his pocket, he pulled up his hood so they would have no chance of seeing his face. He grabbed the ledge with two hands and swung himself down, hanging just a few feet above the soldiers’ heads. Holding his breath, he lurched his body and landed softly behind them.
One had heard him land and turned quickly. The others spun around and lunged forward to catch him. But before they could grasp him, Kyan leaped back and heaved the door shut behind him, slipping in the key to lock it just before the soldiers pounded against the door.
Kyan stood still for a moment as the door held shut, locked from the outside as the soldiers tried to wrench it open. He spun around and bolted up the stairs and into a hallway, carrying in his pockets a whole assortment of treasures and jewels — as well as the faintly glowing stone. Clamoring broke out behind him as another group of Guards saw him streak by.
Kyan raced into a marble hallway and slid across the floor. Around the corner came twenty soldiers running after him. Kyan sprang up and flew threw the hallways of the palace toward a large balcony, which overlooked the main bridge. The cloak in his arms holding the stone softly glowed.
The Guards tailed him a hundred yards back. Kyan rounded a corner and before he could react, his body slammed into another person wearing a similar black cloak, causing them both to fall over. He looked at the man he had just ran into — Benja.
Benja looked at Kyan without knowing he stared at another Eston; and then he looked at the glowing bundle he held and then at the gold necklaces that had scattered all over the floor. “Thief!” he yelled and pounced on Kyan, who quickly twisted over, ripping Benja off his body. Kyan kicked Benja into the wall and ran toward the balcony. Knowing there was a balcony below it, he jumped off and held onto the edge to swing himself below. Just as he landed, he heard the Guard round the corner on the floor above him, but they stopped and there was much yellin
g and cursing. They lost me, he thought as he hastily made his way to the gate.
Hiding behind a cart near the enormous front gate, Kyan had waited for twenty minutes for anything to pass by, for the sky was just beginning to lighten and the activity on the Palace grounds was low. Finally, a horse driver and carriage rode by headed for the gate, and seeing it as his only way out Kyan ducked down low and ran behind it, grabbing onto the back and swinging himself under the carriage, hooking his feet onto a crossbeam of wood, the ground less than a foot beneath him. He managed to hold onto the stone under one arm and hold himself up with another, but it tested his strength.
The carriage stopped. Kyan could hear footsteps approaching and the clanking of armor. “Good evening Guards.” he could hear the driver say.
“We’d like to inspect your carriage before you exit the Palace sir.” said the watchman. “It’s just before sunrise and we’ve just had a robbery from the Palace Vault.”
“Oh why of course. Go about your checkin’ then.” said the driver, followed by a mumble of “Damn government.”
The Guards circled the carriage and opened multiple compartments; Kyan held his breath and tucked himself higher under the cart. A Guard stopped right next to Kyan, his shin almost touching Kyan’s hand. Kyan held his breath and the Guard stepped back. “All right then sir, you’re free to leave.” Kyan slowly let out his air in a sigh of relief, and once the carriage was out of the Palace gates, Kyan rolled onto the street, taking the bundle with him to the roof where the Nightsnakes stood.
They stood in a semicircle, cloaked, and impatient. Riccolo stepped forward. “Congratulations Kyan. I had my doubts, but you made it out alive. Now what do you have in that bundle.”