by C. Greenwood
“She’s no fighter,” Ferran said. “Ilan is a guard dog, and she eats the rats that get into the stores. Only she has to sit inside in the dark all day and never gets to come out. They don’t feed her enough either, so I give her scraps.”
It was clear my brother was very attached to the animal. I didn’t doubt she had been a comfort to him after all he had been through recently.
“A strange name she has,” I remarked.
“I gave it to her,” he said proudly. “They used to call her ‘dog’. But I named her after the warrior queen in one of Mother’s fairy stories. Remember?”
I didn’t. I wondered if that was a natural result of time or due to the confusion of my memories because of the amulet.
From the building behind us came a fresh round of snarls and animal screams. Ferran flinched. He had always loved animals, and I could see he was disturbed by what went on in this place.
“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested.
“We can go up to our room,” Ada offered.
Ferran gave his dog a final pat and closed the shed door. The dog whined as it was locked up in the darkness again.
“Old Neve forbids me to let her out,” Ferran explained sadly.
“Old Neve?” I repeated.
“She owns this place and runs a lot of illegal businesses in the ragged quarter,” said Ada. “The city guard don’t bother her because she bribes them. She has… other connections too.”
Before I could ask what she was hinting at, Ferran slipped through the back door and into The Ravenous Wolf. I hurried after him, with Ada bringing up the rear.
Ferran skirted the main room, which was still crowded and noisy, and took a set of narrow stairs up to another floor. This level held several rooms branching off a dingy corridor. The walls were thin, and the noise and smells from below drifted up to us. But at least we were away from the hoard of strangers I didn’t trust. Kinsley was still down there somewhere. I hoped he had forgotten about me.
Ferran expertly navigated through a door that hung crookedly on one hinge and had to be held straight while opening and closing. Obviously, he was used to it. The room inside was what would be expected in such a place. The ceiling was stained with mildew, the walls cracked and filthy, and the sole window in the space so grimy it would have let in little daylight even if it hadn’t been dark outside. There were few furnishings.
I was reminded of the attic room in the abandoned lodging house where I had first met Ada back in Varnai. It had only been a matter of weeks ago, but it felt as if a vast amount of time had passed between now and then.
Here and there were little signs Ada had tried to tidy this space. The floor at least bore signs of recent scrubbing. And the two piles of blankets that I guessed made up Ada’s and Ferran’s sleeping pallets were neatly arranged. In one corner leaned a traveling pack and canvas bag that I guessed contained all their belongings now. And there was a large wooden crate on the floor that apparently served as a table. A pair of chipped mugs rested atop it, and nearby were several small lumps wrapped in cloth. They probably contained whatever food Ada had managed to scrounge or save.
Taking in the grubbiness that would have been so foreign to Ferran and me during our long-ago days in the castle, I was grateful Ferran had such a resourceful friend to look after him while we were apart.
A particularly loud roar, followed by drunken cheers and jeers, drifted up through the floorboards from the room below.
“I appreciate what you’ve done here,” I told Ada. “But I don’t feel Ferran is safe in this place. The men below have a violent look about them. If a quarrel should break out, I wouldn’t want Ferran in their way.”
Ada’s expression was defensive. “If we had other options, don’t you think I would have taken them?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m just saying there is at least one member of the thieves’ guild down there, a fellow who accompanied me here. I suspect his real object is to spy on me for the guild, and I’m sure he has companions. I think we should slip out of here, attracting as little attention as possible.”
I crossed the room to peer out the window. Nothing moved in the dark alley below.
“You say the man with the scarred chin is gone now,” I told Ada. “So that’s one less enemy we’ll have to worry about encountering on the streets. I hope he’s returned to his mysterious master and reported failure. If he’s left the province, he may be all the way back in Camdon by now.”
“I never really understood why those men were following you two anyway,” Ada prodded.
This wasn’t the first time she had asked.
I kept my answer as vague as ever. “Their master has a personal interest in our father. He wants to use Ferran and me to achieve his own ends.”
“An interest in your dead father?” Ada repeated. “Is this like the interest those soldiers out of Camdon also took in your family?”
She was referring to a troop of soldiers from the Eyeless Tower who had run us down and temporarily recaptured Ferran and me, together with Ada. Luckily, we had all managed to escape.
“Yes, it’s something like that,” I admitted.
I had no intention of explaining that this other anonymous enemy wanted Ferran and I because he was aware of our true positions as heirs of the late congrave. This person had a dislike for the praetor of Camdon and wanted to make Ferran and me pawns in his personal quarrel. I sympathized with anyone who hated the praetor of Camdon, the man who had executed my father as a political rival. But I had no desire to be his puppet or to be murdered by his servants.
Ada obviously found my answer lacking, so I hurried to change the subject. “Anyway, the details are unimportant now the men are gone. I’d rather know how the two of you came to be in this place and figure out how quickly we can relocate you.”
“It’s not that simple,” Ada said shortly. Now it was her turn to be evasive. With seeming reluctance, she admitted, “After you were gone, we had no way of knowing if you were dead or alive or whether we would ever see you again.”
She went on to explain that, unable to keep herself and Ferran fed, she had seen no choice but to take the risky move of seeking refuge from the one man who owed her a favor—one she knew I wouldn’t like.
As she spoke, uneasiness grew within me. I remembered Kinsley’s comment that Ada was being helped by a “friend.” The question was, what sort of friend had Ada involved herself with? I thought I knew. If I was right, it was more important than ever to leave immediately.
I cut her off while she was still in the middle of speaking.
“We have to sneak out of here right away,” I said. “Before your foolish decision comes back to kill us all.”
I turned to the window again but found it had been nailed shut. There would be no exiting that way. While I was debating whether to break the glass and hope no one downstairs noticed over their own noise, Ferran got my attention.
“Rideon, your bow,” he said.
On entering the room, I had cast off my cloak and leaned my bow against the wall near the door. Now the bow came to life, the fiery light emanating from it outlining the detail of the delicate ruins engraved down its wooden limb.
My blood rushed cold through my veins. I knew what it meant when the magic bow flared up.
I reached for the knife at my belt.
CHAPTER EIGHT
My fingers hadn’t touched the handle of my knife before the door to the room suddenly crashed open.
A knot of fierce-looking strangers poured into the room. There must have been a dozen of them, armed with knives and cudgels. I drew my own small blade and angled myself between the intruders and Ferran.
I recognized Kinsley at the back of the rough group.
“Sorry, Rideon,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “I had to rat you out.”
I didn’t care who was responsible. All I cared was that the filthy mob was advancing on me.
A shaven-headed muscular fellow, almost as broad as the doo
r he had entered through, was at the head of the gang of thieves.
“Put down your blade and come easy, boy,” he ordered me. “It’ll be better that way.”
He nodded toward Ferran and Ada behind me.
I realized he was right. I couldn’t win against these odds, and by resisting, I endangered my brother and Ada.
With the feeling I was guaranteeing my own death, I lowered my knife. The muscular man snatched hold of my arm and twisted the weapon from my grip. I gave little resistance as another thief grabbed me from the other side and the whole group dragged and shoved me toward the door.
A cry of protest came from behind. Ferran launched into the backs of our enemies, kicking and punching. Ada appeared quickly to try to haul him away from them. But before she could draw him back, my brother fought his way to me and latched onto the front of my tunic with a desperate grip.
“Don’t let them take you, Rideon!” he cried. His eyes held all the panic of a child about to lose his last remaining relative.
For his own good I had to pry his hands off me.
One of the thieves shoved him roughly, and he fell back, struggling, into Ada’s arms. But not before I caught a shocking glimpse of something I never expected to see—an all too familiar brand on my brother’s arm.
* * *
I was taken immediately downstairs and locked in a dark cellar beneath the building. This gloomy place was lined with massive cages that I guessed sometimes housed wild beasts before a fight. They all stood empty now. I was herded into the nearest one, and the door swung shut and locked behind me.
My enemies soon left, trooping back up the stairs and slamming the cellar door behind them. As soon as they were gone, I tugged at the bars and tried the door. My prison held firm. It was only now I was alone that a deeper fear set in. I had expected to be killed right away by the thieves. Instead, I was being held, presumably while they awaited orders from their leader. I could be down here forever.
I was no more eager to die than the next man. But what I dreaded most was being left permanently in a cage. In the complete darkness of the cellar, with only my thoughts for company, memories of my two years in the Eyeless Tower rose up to taunt me. The walls seemed to close in. This prison was even worse than that other. At least there I had a window and the comfort of companions. Then again, I couldn’t be sorry Ferran wasn’t here with me. My fear now was that something terrible might be happening to him on the outside and I wasn’t there to stop it. Of course, Ada would do whatever she could.
Alone in the inky blackness, I lost all sense of time. I might have been here one hour or five. It had been late evening when they put me down here. Was it morning yet? My throat grew dry, and my stomach ached with emptiness. Would they bring me food or water? Or was death by starvation and thirst to be my ultimate fate?
With nothing else to occupy me, I fiddled with my father’s old ring, twisting it around my thumb. It occurred to me the piece of jewelry would be a prize for some thief, if they ever noticed it. That at least I could prevent.
Some time back, I had discovered a curious flaw in one of my boots, a hollow spot in the heel. I assumed the previous owner had intentionally built this in as a handy spot to conceal his coins. I made use of the convenient hiding place now, removing my father’s ring and stuffing it into the hollow. Now whatever happened I would take Father’s ring with me to the grave. It would never be worn by some worthless thief.
I had no sooner finished putting the ring away when I heard a noise from the top of the stairs. The thick door into the upper room was being opened. A sliver of light appeared. A moment later, I saw two silhouettes at the head of the steps, Ada’s and that of a man. He was the muscular shaven-headed thief who seemed to be in charge of the others. He waited above, near the open door, allowing Ada to descend alone into the shadows of the cellar.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs and saw me in my cage, she rushed to me.
“Have you been harmed?” she asked, her eyes searching me anxiously.
I came closer and gripped the bars of the cage. Her comforting presence filled me with hope, even while I hated myself for enjoying seeing a friend enter this dark place.
Ignoring her question, I asked, “Where is Ferran? Are they now imprisoning you too?”
“I’m not a prisoner. They’re giving me a few minutes to visit you,” she answered. “And your brother is safe. I left him up in our room.”
“He will never be safe while surrounded by these thugs,” I said. “How did you get permission to see me?”
“I bribed Thorben a little. He’s not as bad as the others,” she said.
I assumed Thorben was the man with the shaved head. I doubted he was any better than the rest of them.
“Never mind Ferran and me,” Ada hastened. “They won’t harm us since we’re members of the guild. It’s you who’s in danger now.”
Anger flared as I remembered the brand on my brother’s arm.
“What do you mean members of the guild? How could you let that happen to Ferran?” I demanded.
She used her magic to form a tiny flickering flame in one palm, turning her back from Thorben at the head of the stairs and shielding the flame from view with her body. Beneath the faint light, she extended her arm, revealing the X above her wrist. Obviously recent, the brand stood out angrily against her pale skin. It must be painful.
But I didn’t modify my harsh tone. “I don’t understand how you could involve my brother in a dangerous organization like this. These people have no loyalty, and they aren’t your friends. They will kill you as soon as you cease to be useful.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she snapped. “That’s why I’ve taken care to make us useful. After you disappeared, we were desperate. I discovered the new hiding place of the thief king and went to him. I told him I was the anonymous friend who warned him of the raid from the city guard before it happened. The thieves and their king don’t know the full story of my deception. They’ve never guessed that I’m also the one who tipped off the city guard to their old location in the first place.”
“If they ever find out, you’ll be dead,” I grumbled.
She ignored that. “As a reward for my help, the thief king arranged lodgings and work for Ferran and me at The Ravenous Wolf. He and the landlord have dealings together. The guild takes care of us on the understanding that Ferran and I contribute something.”
“Contribute?”
Her expression was unapologetic. “We lift things, picking the pockets of the patrons around The Ravenous Wolf. Most of them have it coming anyway. We deliver whatever we get to the guild.”
Seeing my sullen expression, she added, “It’s not as if I had any choice. You were gone, and this was the best way I could protect and feed us. We’re safer in the guild than outside it.”
Grudgingly I had to admit she didn’t have many other options. And at least she hadn’t abandoned Ferran. She wasn’t part of our family and owed us nothing. Yet she had chosen to stay around when it would have been easier for her to strike out on her own.
Our conversation was interrupted by the approach of Thorben. And now he wasn’t alone. A handful of other toughs had joined him.
“Time’s up,” the shaven-headed man told Ada, pushing her out of the way.
He unlocked the door of my cage. I was pulled out and escorted up the rickety stairs. Whatever happened, at least it was a relief to be leaving behind the confines of the cellar. It occurred to me belatedly that I should’ve taken the opportunity to give Ada my father’s signet ring to pass on to Ferran. Since I was probably about to die, I would have no further need of it.
I was led through the overheated common room still crowded with patrons. Busy over their drinks, no one paid us much attention. I didn’t make any attempt to bolt or to appeal to the surrounding strangers for help. I doubted any of these people were the sort to play heroes. Half of them were probably guild members themselves. Besides, I was mindful of Ada and Ferran ne
arby and the need not to bring any trouble down on them.
My captors must have sensed this would prevent me from fleeing. They didn’t bother to bind my hands or drag me along. Instead, as we exited the building, they only boxed me in. They walked one before, one after, and two on either side of me. The last time I had been taken to the thieves’ hidden den, I had been knocked on the head and blindfolded as a precaution. But tonight, as we wound through shadowed alleys, they didn’t try to conceal our destination. I took that as a bad sign.
It was still dark out. By the position of the moon, I guessed we were an hour or two away from the dawn of a new day. I wondered if I would live long enough to see it.
CHAPTER NINE
Our winding route through shadowed lanes and moonlit yards led us to a part of the city I had never visited before. Along the outskirts hugging Selbius’s high walls was a decayed area that was like a little city within the greater city. This was encircled by its own much lower wall of stone. Once we passed through its open gates, it became clear this place was far older than the rest of the town. The buildings were constructed entirely of rock, with none of the plaster or timber so common everywhere else. The stone looked ancient and weathered, and much of it had crumbled to dust, leaving rows of houses and other structures that were like empty shells, their roofs tumbled down long ago.
My companions navigated unerringly through this ghostly place with the expertise of men who had been here many times before. There were no glimmer-stones to light our way, and the deep shadows stretching over us from the tallest ruins added to the eeriness and sense of isolation. All was still. There wasn’t a soul in sight but we handful of silent figures snaking our way through the skeleton of the old town.
We soon came upon a great edifice standing atop a raised platform with many stairs leading to its entrance. This building reminded me somehow of the Temple of Light across town. Only this temple, if that’s what it was, looked much older. Still, it stood sturdy as we mounted the stairs and came to its entrance. If there had ever been a door here, it had long ago rotted away, leaving only an open arch that beckoned us in.