by Mark Albany
Maybe I was a grave robber.
I heard the sound of bowstrings being loosed just in time to duck as a crossbow bolt sped a scant inch over my head, burying itself in one of the coffins and causing a cloud of dust to puff up.
There was no time to think about the fact that the dust was actually human remains as I quickly sped around the pedestal, dropping my nearly-spent candle and leaving it behind to sputter out on the ground. There were enough torches lit at the entrance to let me see just how fucked I was.
“Shit,” I hissed again. How had they found me? More importantly, how had they managed to sneak up on me like that? It wasn’t like I hadn’t been paying attention.
“Give up now, thief!” a man shouted from the entrance of the room. I wondered why they weren’t rushing in and realized that they thought I was probably armed.
Vis had sent me away without any weapons. I didn’t blame him, and yet now that I was staring at a group of angry mercenaries, I wondered if it was the smart choice. It wasn’t like I would be able to fight my way through them, yet a dagger might be put to better use by slashing my own throat and not giving these men the opportunity to question me.
It was a moot point right now, but something to remember for future robberies, should I survive this one.
I could hear footsteps moving over the ground. The mercenaries had apparently decided that they weren’t going to wait for me to give up. I quickly tucked the ring into my pocket a second before they came around.
I tugged the parchment out of my pocket. I didn’t have any weapons, but there might be some use I could get from the object I had stolen. There was writing on it, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand any of it. Odd letters and symbols that I’d never seen before covered the page. There was something about them that tugged at my memory. Maybe I’d seen this kind of writing before? I looked down as I thought I felt the ring in my pocket vibrate, but was interrupted when the mercenaries came around the sarcophagus.
They weren’t happy about the merry chase I’d taken them on, if their roughness was any indicator. I was dragged to my feet. I felt a fist hammer into my gut, knocking what little breath I had left out in a gasp. By the time I was able to breathe again, they had started dragging me away.
Torches. Why hadn’t I thought to bring a torch instead of a fucking candle?
They took my pouch away, ripping it off of my waist as they pulled me down the hallway. They seemed to know their way around these tunnels, I realized, as it wasn’t long before I could see moonlight shining over the ground. Apparently, by jumping down the landslide, I had taken the more difficult route. There was a proper entrance, though it too was overgrown by weeds and bushes, with trees hanging heavily over the stone arches. There were a couple more men waiting outside. They looked like they wanted a try at knocking the breath out of me as well, but the man who was apparently their captain waved them off.
“The boy has a good deal of suffering already in his future.” The man, assumedly Kruger, pushed me to the ground roughly. “He’ll be turned over to the Emperor for questioning. The Lancers are on their way to collect him now.”
“What?” the man asked, nudging my shoulder with his boot, knocking me back down as I tried to regain my feet. “What does the Emperor have to do with a simple burglary gone wrong?”
“No fucking clue,” Kruger said. “All I know is, the moment he left the premises, Lancers showed up, demanding him. Now bind him the fuck up and have him ready to hand over to the pricks in armor when they get here. I’m going back in to try and find the rest of the cunts who are in there.”
“It’s a maze,” the first man said with a chuckle. “How are you going to find them all in time?”
“Shut up and bind him,” I heard Kruger say as he walked in the way we’d come out. The man still standing over me mumbled a curse, pulling some rope from his belt. He pulled me up into a seated position before binding my hands in front of me.
“So,” the man grumbled, pushing me to sit back against the arch. “What the fuck did you steal that caused the Lancers to be jumping to throw you into the dungeons, eh?”
I rolled my eyes. There were a couple of dead vines circling around the archway that were digging into my back. It was uncomfortable, but then again, everything was uncomfortable at this point.
“Fine,” the man snarled, taking my chin in his hand and tilting my face up to look at him. “Don’t say nothing. Keep your trap shut. I’m sure the fuckers in the dungeon like pretty boys like you. Well, not so pretty anymore, are we?” He prodded a couple of cuts and bruises I’d collected on my face during my attempt at escape.
I gritted my teeth. Whether the dungeons were actually as bad as the rumors made them out to be, I wasn’t sure. I knew that fear of the unknown usually ended up being worse than what the reality was, especially for people like me with a vast imagination. Then again, the imagination of those gifted with magical abilities tended to be similarly vast, and they had a lot more experience than I did.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The mercenary standing over me smirked and patted my cheek.
“I almost feel sorry for you,” he said with a chuckle. “Almost. You made me run after you. And I hate running.”
He turned away, chuckling softly. It was nice that he was able to amuse himself, I thought, tugging gently at my restraints. The ropes were thin, but still strong enough that breaking free would require a sharp instrument, which I was sadly lacking.
I looked up when I heard heavy boots crunching dead leaves and gravel. I knew that sound. I’d spent whole days memorizing it. Three men in shiny armor that gleamed in the moonlight stepped into view. With them was a shorter man with a hooked nose and balding head who looked terrified of being out here in the night.
“Where’s Kruger?” the smaller man asked in a nasal voice.
“He’s still in there,” the guard said, nodding back toward the tunnels. “We sent a few teams of our boys in there and they’re having some difficulty finding their way back out.”
The man shook his head, muttering a couple words and waving his hand over the arch as he moved closer to me. I saw the telltale inscription of runes appearing on the stones. This man was a mage.
What the hell had I tried to steal?
“What’s this one?” the mage asked, looking down at me, narrowing his eyes.
“Just a boy,” the guard said with a smirk. “He’s the one we found with the parchment, though he would have needed help to get past the barrier you put in place. We’re searching for them now. They must be in there, too.”
“You need to find them quickly,” the mage said, pulling his robes around himself with bony fingers. “I don’t like being out here at this time. There are foul omens in the air.”
“Whatever you say,” the guard said with a chuckle. Even among mages, omen-readings were generally discarded as fiction and snake-oil peddling. The mage scowled venomously at the man.
“I’m going inside to find Kruger,” he said after a moment. “You lot,” he indicated the three Lancers, “keep watch on the boy. We’ll take him back when we return. Put him in some dark hole to think about the error of his ways.”
I sighed, leaning back against the arch, watching the mage disappear. Well, at least the torture wouldn’t be starting just yet. I rubbed idly at the wax that had collected on my fingers until I remembered the ring in my pocket. They hadn’t searched me yet, taking only my pouch, but they were bound to eventually, and they would find it if it remained where it was.
I moved slowly, avoiding attention as I slipped my fingers into the pocket of my pants, finding the small, round circlet. It was hard to tell by touch, but I thought that there had been a gem studded into the top of the ring. I rubbed my fingers over the smooth metal. It was warm to the touch—not surprising considering that it had been in my pocket, pressed close to my skin—but I couldn’t find any gem. I rubbed my finger over it again, trying to check, tilting my head. Fucking thing was messing
with my mind—
“What do you desire?”
I heard the voice right next to my ear, so close that I could feel hot breath on my cheek. I started, falling to the side away from the voice, looking up to see where it had come from. The Lancers didn’t seem to notice my movements, or if they did, they didn’t care. The guard had moved off while I’d been distracted. I couldn’t see him. What I could see was a woman.
No, not a woman, I realized as she moved out of the shadows. There were tattered wings jutting from her back, and curled, black horns on the crown of her head. Her skin was dark, though exactly what color it was proved difficult to tell in the poor lighting. I could see that her hair was green, though, and that her eyes almost seemed to be glowing, or at least reflecting what little light there was around us, and that she was wearing… next to nothing. Skimpy pieces of clothes that gleamed like metal and yet moved like silk covered her body, but only just, leaving a distracting amount of bare skin to view.
It was odd to find something so different so attractive.
She smiled, leaning closer to me again. “Want I should get rid of them?” she asked with a tilt of the head toward my bindings. I wasn’t sure how she could, or why. I was thoroughly confused, but her question was the one thing I had an answer to at the moment.
I nodded.
She nodded, pulling a knife from… thin air, it appeared, and easily slashed through them before turning away. I moved quickly, not sure where this woman had come from, why she was helping or what I was going to do once my luck ran out—but there was one thing I had come here for, and I wasn’t leaving it behind. I quickly crawled over to my satchel, which was placed next to the parchment that I’d stolen, and looked around.
The Lancers looked like they had at least tried to put up a fight but hadn’t been able to. Roots had grown up from the ground around them, wrapping around their legs, pinning them in place. I could see that the roots had also slipped underneath their armor, and from the looks in their eyes through their helmets, I could tell that what the roots were doing was less than comfortable.
I turned to see the woman… thing, walking toward me. The runes left on the archway were glowing again, but this time they seemed to be dissipating, one by one.
“We cannot stay,” she whispered, coming closer and kneeling next to me. I opened my mouth to give voice to the hundreds of questions that were coming to mind, but she didn’t give me time to speak. She placed her hands on my temples and closed her eyes. I only had a moment to realize that her horns had started to glow before the world around me started to twist and disappear. I felt nausea starting to rise from my stomach as everything went black, and yet continued to twist somehow, and we were suddenly moving. I couldn’t tell if it was forward or backward, but we were moving. Somewhere.
4
We stopped so suddenly that my head snapped forward, just barely avoiding a collision with her chest before I pulled myself back up, looking into her eyes again. They weren’t glowing. And neither were her horns, not anymore. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out for the longest of moments. The blackness and twisting were gone, but the nausea remained. There was also a powerful, pounding ache in my head and I felt myself heaving, trying to keep the contents of my stomach in place.
When I managed to recover my composure, I realized that we were back at Vis’ manor. Not only that, but we were in my room, and I was sitting on the tiny little cot that had been my bed for the past decade or so.
And the woman-thing was kneeling in front of me, a smug if slightly mutinous look on her face as she peered up at me, like she was expecting me to say something.
I needed to say something.
“What… Who… are you?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t take offense that one or the other word was wrong.
“My name is Aliana,” she answered, looking like the name was supposed to answer all the other questions that were coming. It didn’t.
“Name… my name is Grantham,” I said, not wanting to be impolite to the woman who had potentially just saved my life. “But, er, I go by Grant.”
She stared at me, unblinking, then said. “That’s a ridiculous name.” Her voice was soft, flowing, like music that conveyed the mood she seemed to be in. It was curious and enjoyable.
“What are you?” Maybe I meant to ask who she was or for her name, but the words were out before I could think.
“I am one of the Sisters Three, bound to that ugly little ring that is nestled in your pocket,” she said.
I paused, taking a moment to think about it. I recognized something about what she had said, and from more than just the books I’d been reading.
“Sisters Three?” I asked, tilting my head. “You’re a djinn? Stuck in this ring?”
“So, you do know what I am,” she said, sounding pleased.
“Well, yes, who doesn’t?” I asked. “The Sisters Three is a nursery rhyme meant to teach children about the dangers of excessive greed. You came when I needed you, but… only once I had the ring?” Things were starting to make sense. There had been books and scrolls studying the possible existence of djinn beyond children’s fairy tales, but the conclusion that had been drawn was that, if they did exist, the implications would make things a whole lot more complicated than the simple granting of wishes.
The scroll had somehow guided me to the tunnels, to the sarcophagus where the ring had been, and when I’d looked into it, nudged me toward using the ring. I’d fucked it up the first time around, but was given the chance to try again, and had accidentally taken advantage.
Master Vis was right. I did suck at magic.
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs to where my room was. I looked around, realizing that if there was someone coming, I would have a lot to explain without having a near-naked djinn in the room with me.
“Hide now, quickly,” I said urgently. She smiled indulgently and in the blink of an eye, she was gone again, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared in the first place. I tugged the ring out of my pocket, feeling that it was a lot hotter than it had been before, and hid it under the straw mattress of my cot before the door opened.
As the door opened, creaking loudly, it was all I could do not to wince and cover my ears. For some reason, however it was that Aliana had brought us here had left me with a pounding headache.
As surprised as I was to find Vis coming to my quarters himself, it was no match for how surprised he was when he saw me.
“Fuck!” he shouted, dropping the candle that he’d brought with him for light.
“Master Vis?” I asked, standing up quickly from my bed, trying to ignore the ring I’d left behind.
“Grantham?” Vis asked, tilting his head as he reached down to collect the candleholder that he’d let fall in his surprise. “How did you get here? I’d heard… I’d heard they caught a thief breaking into Lord Pollock’s manse and assumed the worst.”
His words were supposed to be comforting, but the way he narrowed his eyes and stared at me made me wonder if he wouldn’t have some suspicions about my story. I steeled my nerves, putting my mind to work, even if it was in pain.
“You didn’t send me out to fail, Master,” I said softly, pulling the piece of parchment from my pouch and handing it to him. I could see, even in the dim light of the still-lit candle that Vis’ eyes quickly lit up when he saw it. He clearly knew what it was, as he snatched it out of my hands, cradling it in his fingers as if it were a newborn babe. I actually wondered if Vis would treat a newborn with the amount of reverence he was showing to this piece of paper.
“You didn’t try to use it, did you?” Vis asked, still staring at the parchment, running his fingers over the faded letters.
“I wouldn’t even know how,” I answered truthfully, adding a slight shrug. “I don’t use magic. You are aware of this.”
Vis looked up at me. I could see something like fear in his eyes, coupled with suspicion as he took a few steps closer to me. I could smell the wine on his breath as he leaned i
n. I knew he was considering whether or not he needed to put me to the test to see if I was telling the truth. I tried not to squirm at the thought, and only partially because of the uncomfortable nature of the test.
After what felt like years, Vis took a step back, a fake smile playing on his lips, his hand patting me on the head instead of pressing to my temple. “You did well. Very well indeed. I’ll be honest, I actually thought this task would be beyond what even you would be able to perform. That said, it would be best if we both laid low for the time being. If my part in this scheme were to come to light, there is no telling what the consequences will be, and his Lordship will definitely be looking for someone to blame for this piece of parchment slipping through his fingers. Get some rest and… treat your wounds.” He said that while looking at the bruises and cuts on my body like I was a leper before quickly turning and walking out of my room. “I’ll send some food up for you.”
I nodded, wincing again as the door slammed. My head was still pounding when one of the manor servants came in with a tray of soup with bread and a jug of clear, cool water from the well outside, as well as a cloth and a bowl full of water to wash myself with. I ate like I’d been starved, leaving the tray outside my door before taking the cloth and quickly washing away the dried blood that had collected on my face and body. My clothes were ruined beyond repair.
I tossed the dirty, ruined clothes to the side as I pulled on a fresh set. They were of the same drab grey color, but at least they were clean and had not been put through the hellish gauntlet of running through a forest and falling down a landslide.
Even between that and how late it was, I wasn’t able to bring myself to sleep yet. There were only a couple of hours until sunrise, and in spite of the annoying, plaguing exhaustion that was slipping into my body, as the lights went out and I lay back in my bed, I found my mind going back to the ring I’d picked up and the woman who seemed bound to it.