by Troy Reaves
The Ardature moved away to start a fire and tend to Rinoba. Boremac marveled at how the boots of the elite never touched the ground as he positioned Rinoba near him. Boremac did not know when he had removed his own boots, or even how, but he decided his toes were fascinating. The night had grown thick and inky, Boremac noted, as the Elite lifted his still prostrate captive to his shoulder and flew into the tree limbs. The thick darkness enveloped the elite as he traveled upward, leaving waves behind him. Starlight appeared to become reflections on the thickening night sky, piercing through only briefly before disappearing as well. Only the full moon retained its shape directly overhead, though Boremac noted its usual halo had also been sacrificed to the dark ebb and flow of the consuming night sky. The Goddess’s avatar was now a perfectly round orb surrounded by a shifting tide of night.
The loss of light from the sky above brought Boremac’s eyes reflexively to the fire at the center of the ring of trees. He cocked an eyebrow, seeing that even the usual chaotic flames now danced as if entranced by some silent rhythm. He smiled, or tried as much as his uncooperative mouth would allow him, watching the rapidly shifting multi- hued salamanders that comprised the dancers whirl and intertwine. As his boots began to tap to the soundless tune, Boremac found they had moved to join in the dance. He wiggled his bare toes, giggling once more, as the boots jigged just outside the ring of the fire pit.
Boremac opened his eyes more fully to take in the show. The forest came alive with his new perception. A bat screeched across the darkness, all at once slowing almost to a stop midair, in pursuit of the glow bug unaware of becoming a meal as it beat its glossy wings just enough to stay aloft. A nocturnal woodpecker drove its beak with a light tap, tap, tap into the bark of a tree near Boremac’s resting spot, each strike thunderous as a kettle drum yet oddly quiet as waves of sound eddied out into the ever thickening dark. Another steady rhythm captured the thief’s attention as he saw the sounds of night and began to hear the colors of darkness. A heavy plodding that could only be attributed to the bear guarding the tree-line took on a hue of deep purple, forming a trail behind the keeper of the woods. Boremac found he could understand the simple thought conveyed by the huge bear’s steady growling, “No one enter, no one one leave.”, and found himself wondering what he would be like as a rug for the bear’s cave. He was glad the thought fled as quickly as it appeared.
Boremac saw the yellow ocher song flowing from burrower slugs as they sang gently to one another, being careful to not break the bark of their host. The wood beetles joined in with their own acknowledgement, praising the labors of their brothers and the gift of the Goddess at once. Boremac was not concerned by the new energy flowing around him. He was overcome by fascination once again and doubted there would be much that would trouble him… until he heard the lonely cry of a wolf in the darkness. It pierced his soul, full of mourning and loss so much like Boremac’s own, and made him long for someone to answer. Boremac felt peace hearing the pack raise their voices as one to bring their lost mate to them, and he wondered how The Gang was doing. As he thought of each of them now, he marveled at the colors surrounding each; Twitcher with his warbling golden tone, Spike surrounded by a rusty shimmer, Frost floating in a ghostly bluish grey cloud and, most interestingly, Harse caught in swirling rainbows of exploding colors... each with a solid core of dark blue energy at their center. Boremac felt compelled to look at his own chest and saddened finding that the same energy core did not appear to be in him. He only noted a chaotic, ever changing smoky black and red cloud whispering around every part of him.
The healing power of the poultice became all the more apparent as Boremac closed his eyes against the vision of his own aura. The flesh and bone, torn and broken by the hunter’s blades, was rapidly regenerating. He could sense the blood flowing through his veins, moving the mending mix through him with only the briefest pause to weave new bits fused with the old to make him whole. The thief noticed something else. He was exhausted to the point of aching. Boremac, normally so afraid of drowning, felt an odd comfort as the night grew thicker and flowed into him, carrying him into a much needed dreamless sleep. Boremac just had a moment to wonder how much of this waking dream he would remember when the sun rose as he found peace behind his own closed eyelids.
37
Purple Haze
“Boremac!” Rinoba’s voice scraped the inside of his ear as though it were sand carried by a gale and making its way through every part of his skull. The choking noise that followed was so pleasant that Boremac was tempted to keep his eyes closed until it stopped. If it were not for a certain amount of curiosity about why he could feel his hand around something warm and soft, he may have done just that. Boremac opened his eyes and was immediately disappointed he had not gone with his first instinct. Rinoba’s rapidly reddening face seemed even more unpleasant than usual, mouth working like a fish freshly caught, while he tried to bring his hands up and dislodge Boremac’s hand from his throat. The task was being complicated by the fact that Boremac’s free hand was slapping Rinoba’s own away, seemingly able to ward off both the offending appendages at once of their own will. Boremac found it odd that Rinoba was moving so slowly with his attempts to free himself. He had not been choking the man that long. Despite the pleasant circumstance he found himself in, Boremac knew choking Rinoba was no way to get paid.
Boremac released his grip, hoping his point had been made, and casually slapped Rinoba across each cheek hard enough to raise marks. “What are you shouting about and what could possibly be so important to call me out of the kindest rest I have had in some time? Are you on fire? Get a grip man! The sun has barely attempted to chase away the night!”
“Boremac?” There was a measure of concern when Rinoba spoke his name that gave Boremac pause. “It is almost midday, my… friend.” That last word almost choked him and Boremac was more curious than ever. He slowly tipped his head up to the sky to find where the sun rested. He was struck with acute vertigo as he did so.
Boremac saw a vast number of things as his eyes traced up a near tree to reach the sky. Shimmering leaves surrounded by odd, ghostly auras of rich greens and gentle gold wavered before him. A squirrel took flight, moving so slowly from one branch to the next that Boremac felt he could have counted the hairs sticking out of its tail. An odd luminous trail with white, grey and brown followed the creature as it moved. The sun itself moved gracefully behind a cloud of spun golden and silver light in time to keep Boremac from staring at it directly. The rays from the orb itself were a brilliant mix of every color Boremac could recall ever seeing, weighted equally but somehow separate, as they left their creator and interwove in every direction. Everywhere his eyes touched, there was an explosion of color. Even the breeze that caused the air to tremble sang to him, playing gossamer notes on fine streams of silk as it breathed through the forest. It was too much. He closed his eyes only to be immediately assaulted by the sound of his own labored breathing and the rapid beating of his heart.
Boremac welcomed the relative darkness. It was so much like the night before that he found some comfort again in it. There was an odd warmth that enveloped him, helping to silence Rinoba’s words outside of him. He contemplated killing the fool… terrible images, beautiful images… tempered his desire and fascinated him at the same time. He felt a stealthy smile that snuck past his control creep onto his mouth, bringing awareness of the dryness of his lips which cracked as they parted, baring his teeth. He croaked out the first word he thought of, hoping that Rinoba had need of the same, “Water.” He heard Rinoba wander off somewhere and enjoyed the blessed solitude the departure brought. He could not help but think that choking the Prince would at least not be that messy.
Boremac came fully aware some time later when Rinoba splashed a bit of water on his face. “No sense in wasting my efforts. Do you remember last night at all, Boremac? You seem… different. The Ardature that saved us was kind enough to leave some small amount of gear in case you were unable to, well, move today.
He said the salve he used on you was not meant for such wounds, at least on a human. He said it might affect you. Boremac, you really should be dead.”
Boremac opened his eyes carefully. Rinoba offered a wooden cup filled with water and went back to the savoring of his own. Boremac slaked his own thirst as well before engaging Rinoba. The salve, for all the good it had done him, appeared to have taken every ounce of water in him out. He focused his sight on Rinoba’s eyes, shading his own with his lids and managing to quirk his brow in disapproval before he spoke. “Is that simply an observation or a suggestion? I have suffered enough at your hands to wonder, Rinoba.”
Rinoba smiled wickedly and laughed out loud at the veiled accusation. “You will suffer me no more, Boremac. You have helped make me heir to my rightful station and, after a fashion, saved my life once more. I am greatly in your debt, a debt I am too happy to repay.”
“Do you carry the amount that your hide is worth, to you at least, on you? I imagine the price of your ego alone would bear you to the ground. Where are the gems and the orb that the Ardature gave me?” Boremac did not bother to check his purse. He knew what he would find.
“Ah, have we forgotten the Laws? Possession is ownership. I have taken my due and I give you what I wish.” Boremac would have argued if he thought there was any point. Rinoba was correct and the contract was his to decide, so long as he paid. Thieves may tip for a great variety of reasons but they never tipped one another. Settle the shares but, if one was faster or more cunning than the other, it was the nature of their trade. Whether it was a dead man or a sleeping one, picking the pockets was entirely expected.
Boremac remembered well enough the wealth Rinoba now held and wondered how long he could choke him before he died. It would carry terrible consequences and weigh on his conscience for a while but in the end he was starting to feel like it would be worth it.’Damn you, George.’ Boremac thought to himself,’Were you not such a fine teacher, he would be at my feet. Your lessons in compassion are very annoying at times.’ He shook away the thought and just looked warily at Rinoba. “What have you decided is fair?”
“All the stones, payment for the contract on top of that, but the ruby and the orb stay with me. If you have business at a later time in Traveflor, you would do well to let me know before you arrive. I would hate for something to happen to my good luck charm. Oh, I do have some advice for you before we part company. Stick to the tavern wenches, Boremac. She will break you before you break her. I think she may already have.” Rinoba dropped Boremac’s purse at his feet and bowed briefly before he turned his back to Boremac. “Tell Jun the payment for your services will come by courier soon. Never can tell how safe the roads will be these days. Do mind your friends do not engage him. It would be rude. Do not be a stranger at the Guild. It is always my pleasure to see you.”
Boremac replied to the man’s back just low enough that he thought Rinoba would not hear. “And yours alone.” Rinoba did not bother to face toward Boremac again but kept his pace through the woods, only nodding his head by way of acknowledgement.
38
Loose Ends
On his return to Verson, Boremac found Jun was pleased with the execution of the contract. Jun’s reaction to Boremac’s other announcement was less than pleasant. “What do you mean you are returning to Travelflor for a while?” Jun hissed. Boremac found that disturbed him more than the other man’s unusual laugh generally did. “You have managed to earn, or rather be recognized once more I suppose, the reputation of one of my best hunters… MY best. Do you think I piled all these contracts on my desk to look busy! Work to do, boy, and these all have your name on them! No, not the usual’we trust your discretion to choose the one for the fulfillment of this contract, Master Jun’, these are calling for you personally! What about my reputation!?! What is so important that you would have to go to Travelflor now!?! Two or three should keep the most important clients happy and I can deal with the rest, but I forbid you to leave now!”
Boremac had had enough. More than enough. “I would remind you that I am not property and, last I checked, you have yet to be penalized for any contract that I have taken. You have taken your due and I have asked no more than for your consideration. The name I have established in the community is still’Boremac’ and, by Alchendia, it is still my own. I will contact you when I have concluded my business there and if that is going to be a problem then get a replacement.” Something in the way Boremac spoke quieted Jun. There was an edge in his tone for the first time since the two had known one another, a dangerous seriousness as keen as the daggers Boremac carried. “Look after her. I will be no longer than I have need.” Boremac’s last words were gentle and soft, contrasting markedly with his previous pronouncement.
Jun’s normal humor returned. “Carry on, my friend. I will manage them. I would not be who I am if I could not. Be safe. Stay away from Alchendia’s Path. Rinoba is not finished with you, that much is certain. Do not think you can rattle the knocker at the guild door and be welcomed. He fears you. He knows you are still a threat to him. He would kill you himself if he could manage it.”
“Things have changed. I have changed.” Boremac split the quill in half so fast that Jun never had a chance to move his hand away from it. The dagger hummed, its tip buried in the top of the desk just enough to hold it upright. Jun did not flinch but he did bring his fingertips to his left ear. The slightest break in the flesh there caused his finger to come away with fresh blood. “Forgive me, Master Jun, but you needed to understand.”
Jun smiled as he wiped the blood from his fingers, allowing his wound to congeal on its own. Boremac reflected that if a hungry wolf ever smiled, it would look like Jun did at that moment. “Oh, no apology necessary, I assure you. You have changed, Boremac, and for the better if I judge correctly. I would suggest you do something about that troublesome conscience of yours, however, before it gets you into more trouble than you would prefer.”
“I really do not seek out troubles, Master Jun.” Boremac quirked his lip in an honest smile of his own. “It does seem to have a habit of finding me despite my own efforts to avoid it.”
“That it does, boy. That it does.” Jun laughed at his own words and somewhere in his humble establishment rodents cried out as one even as Boremac found himself attempting to shutter his own ears.
***
Boremac had found no reason to waste his new riding ability, limited though it was, and had made his way by horseback along the road to Travelflor the day after speaking with Jun. He made a point to take a brief detour, stopping in to visit the Gang and make them aware of possible repercussions due to their actions against Rinoba, even though he felt his concern was unwarranted. Spike, after a notable deferral to Frost, assured him that they were being more careful than usual and would continue to do so. Boremac made a healthy contribution to the group’s retirement purse and set out again the same day he had arrived.
He took time in an inn in the Merchants’ quarter, treating himself to a fine bed and finer drink than was his usual fare, in order to enter the Thieves’ quarter of Travelflor the next day at first light. Boremac remembered his last encounter with Rinoba and, despite having no intention of ‘checking in’ with Alchendia’s Path, he did not want to take any chances entering the Shadowy Pint in the dark of night. He knew well enough what could happen to the careless in the shadows.
Mama Bear was much the same as Boremac remembered her. The passage of time, a couple of years that would have worn most her age, seemed to have little effect on her features, except for the deepening of wrinkles brought by her smiles. The ladies of the tavern were more than happy to see him again, favoring him with long gazes and shared whispers of appreciation for how he had grown. He was tempted to share time with one or two but Mama made it very evident that she was not going to stand for anything of the sort. She shooed off the rest of the ladies with very direct, and for some sharp, words suggesting that they should make the few other guests of the tavern comfortable before
she sat down with Boremac to catch up.
“So you have gotten tied up with Rinoba again?” Mama Bear had never been one to mince words, especially when she smelled trouble. “He made efforts to keep a lady here, right here working tables under my supervision! The cheek of the Prince made me want to spit. I would take it up with his father if I thought it would do any good. He has half the quarter watching out for you, boy, and the others would find a way to line their pockets with the news you have returned. I do not imagine you were foolish enough to announce your arrival.”
Boremac smiled. “Mama, you know me better than that. Rinoba is powerful after a fashion but not exactly one of the most well liked people in Travelflor judging from the way he has handled me alone. I am sure he has more enemies in his own house than I have in the whole of Travelflor.”
Bah, you are your own worst enemy, Son.” Mama Bear squinted at him as if inspecting his heart through his eyes. “Your ego rivals Rinoba’s own and fuel has been added to the fire in your heart. Does she have a name or has your hunting for money made you more secretive as well as more skilled?”