The Thief's Gamble

by Juliet E. McKenna

  'Who in Saedrin's name are you?' A ringing voice filled the air around me as the dolphin touched Shiv's hand.

  I stared round wildly and saw from Ryshad's startled expression that he had heard it too.

  The air above Shiv's senseless head shimmered blue and grew opaque; I saw an old man's face, a sharp-featured man with wind-tossed hair and an unkempt beard, blurred and distorted as if seen through thick glass.

  'Who are you?' I could not think what to say.

  'I am Otrick,' the face said crisply, as if that said it all. 'Who are you and what are you doing with a mage's ring of power on your hand?'

  I looked stupidly at the collection of rings I had gathered and noticed for the first time that I had the silver band purloined from Azazir.

  'I didn't realise—'

  'Put it on Shivvalan's finger and then put his hand in the water.'

  I struggled with the ring, my cold, wet fingers and Shiv's nerveless hands. When I finished my task, green light rose up from the depths all around us and drove the boat forward at a startling pace. A surge of foam gathered at the nose and the dolphins gave up pushing to race alongside, leaping across the bow wave in a manner that I found quite frankly terrifying.

  I did not have enough hands for this; I was still keeping Shiv balanced and Ryshad had my dagger hand. I was glad of the reassurance but really wanted to hang on to the side of the boat myself. Ryshad must have seen the insecurity in my face; he moved to sit beside me, putting his arm around me as he gripped the seat for the two of us. The rolling seas drew aside as the boat carried us on the wildest ride of my life. Shaking with whatever fear I had left, I promised myself I'd never set foot on so much as a river ferry after this, not even if finding a bridge took me half a season out of my way.

  'What's that?'

  As Ryshad spoke, I opened my eyes; I'd been seeing if things were better or worse with them shut.

  'Fog?' I tried and failed to keep sarcasm out of my tone.

  'Seen much fog like that, have you?'

  A spark of life relit Ryshad's eyes and I looked with new interest at the mist. It was a dense bank and I suddenly realised it was moving, ignoring the wind and waves as it swept towards us. I looked over my shoulder but the Elietimm ships were approaching remorselessly. Individual figures could be identified in the rigging now, I could spot the heads of people on the decks. Would we make the shelter of the fog before we were caught? Was this something Otrick had sent?

  With a speed that took my breath away, white mist shot towards the enemy ships and I saw it was borne on fists of punishing winds. The Elietimm ships halted like reined-in horses, sails flapping uselessly as the surge of the sea spun them into chaos.

  'Look!'

  I always seemed to be facing the wrong way. I turned to see the predatory lines of a Dalasorian ocean ship emerge from the bank of fog and our little boat headed for it as if drawn by a rope, green light shining up from the water all around us.

  Dead white light startled us, reflecting back from the forbidding barriers of mist, and the Elietimm ships surged forward again. Blue light danced around them, intricate webs of power were woven in the skies, the colour vivid against the dull grey clouds. I groaned. Though the network of spells grew thicker, we could still see some kind of barrier was protecting the ships; if the wizards could not get through, they could not touch the Elietimm.

  Our boat rocked as a massive wave gathered the seas to itself and bore down on the pursuing ships. Crashing foam spilled emerald light over the Elietimm prows and one of the ships reeled helplessly under the blow. As it heeled away from the others, taken way beyond the aetheric shelter, air and water combined to raise a spiralling spout which ripped clean through the middle of the hapless vessel. Sails and masts flew high into the sky, decking split like firewood under the axe, while bodies and nameless flotsam scattered far and wide over the dark seas. The prow went down in a roar of white foam, screams abruptly silenced as that half of the stricken vessel headed for the distant ocean floor. The stern rose high in the air, all manner of debris falling as it hung impossibly still for a moment before plunging down to join the rest of the ship. The waters seethed as it vanished, nameless tatters and fragments boiling up from the depths.

  The aetheric defences of the Elietimm faltered at the sight and no wonder. The probing blue light coiling round the other ships found a weakness; lightning flashed down from the glowering clouds to shatter the tallest mast on the second ship. The sails were alight in an instant, all three masts blazing like trees in a forest fire. The fires burned brilliant orange but did not die back to the wood once they had devoured the canvas. Now flaring anew with the deep red light that proclaimed wizardry, the greedy flames raced to and fro across the decks, engulfing everyone they snared. Fire sprang vigorously across impossible gaps to snatch at ropes, clothes, hair, devouring all it touched, consuming everything down to ashes with hopeless speed. I swallowed on a suddenly dry mouth as the enchanted blaze took a death grip on the stricken ship, even pursuing those who jumped overboard in a vain effort to escape the inferno, burning them alive as the waters refused to quench the elemental fires. The clouds reflected the light in a horrific parody of sunset and I wondered if it was my imagination or whether I could really feel the heat on my face. The smoke coiled high into the sky, twisted into unnatural patterns by winds doing wizards' bidding as they sought to halt the third ship, which still pressed on, untouched.

  'Look, Rysh, dolphins.' I pointed at triangular fins cutting through the chaos of debris on the waters.

  Ryshad frowned and drew in a long, slow breath. 'Er, no, I don't think so.'

  I looked again and saw something was indeed different: the fins were paired, smaller ones showing a trailing tail.

  'Sharks!' Ryshad sprang to his feet and turned to the wizards' ship.

  'Halloo, get a rope to us quick,' he bellowed. 'We've wounded aboard and sharks are gathering.'

  I watched, not quite understanding until one of the long grey shapes came seeking the source of our tantalising trail. As it passed by our fragile craft, it heeled over and I saw the gill slits of a true fish, cold dead eyes with no spark of intelligence or compassion and a curved mouth with row upon row of teeth like barbs on a man-trap. The boat rocked as it passed and I noticed the shark was longer than our thin-skinned little boat by more than an arm span.

  'Will it attack?' I called to Ryshad, who was standing by the rudder, sword poised to smash into any questing nose.

  'It's been known,' he said grimly. 'They'll follow the blood in the water.'

  His shouts had spurred activity on the wizards' ship; men were lowering a net over the side and I saw a tall figure in rough clothes swinging a coil of rope around his head. It came singing through the air and, as Ryshad caught it, the gang of sailors began hauling us in. I turned to see the sharks were more interested in the easier meat struggling among the wreckage of the other boats and tried to shut my ears to the choking screams.

  The third boat pressed on, ignoring the drowning men even as they were sucked down into its wake. It came closer and closer, unslowing despite the multi-hued network of light around it as wizards of every talent fought to penetrate the power that protected it. It loomed above us; we were nearly at the Dalasorian ship but, as I moved ready to catch a rope, I saw sailors suddenly fall from the rigging like frost-killed birds. The men on deck ran this way and that, complete panic threatened by something I could not see as the Elietimm struck back with aetheric magic.

  A crack of thunder split the heavens and I saw an instant of blue skies as the clouds above the Elietimm ship were rent apart. The gap closed in a moment but, as we watched, the clouds began to circle, roiling, darkening, coiling down towards the ship. A second thunderclap made my ears hurt and a bright white flash shot down from the heart of the cloud.

  It was a dragon, a dragon of air, a creature of clouds and thunder. It was huge, twice the size of Azazir's water dragon, and it dwarfed the black ship as it circled overhead.
Its belly was silver rippled with faintest gold like the fine clouds high on a winter's sunrise, and the rest was the pure white of the soaring mountain-high clouds of the plains. It flew down and around the wizards' ship, face questing towards it. We were close now, close enough for me to see the spines on its crest, transparent as icicles, the grey-blue line of scales down the middle of its back rimed with frost, the startling azure of its eyes which narrowed as it suddenly darted towards the hapless enemy ship. Soaring high above and hovering impossibly on broad sweeps of its translucent wings, it lashed at the masts with its massive tail, sending wood, sails and rope crashing down in a hopeless tangle. The screams of the doomed Elietimm were lost in the unearthly howling of the triumphant dragon as it flew upwards, circled and stooped like a hawk, diving to rend anything it could see in its shining white jaws. Claws with the size and brilliance of swords batted the futile defiance of a few soldiers aside into bloody fragments.

  The downstroke of its wings battered the water, driving the waves aside to send us crashing into the side of the wizards' ship. I grabbed the netting and clung to it like a miser to his purse strings.

  'Help!' I screamed. 'Saedrin's arse, help us!'

  Faces appeared over the rail and hands reached down to haul me up into the ship. I shivered in the cold wind as shock finally worked its claws into me but I pushed aside solicitous hands that would have wrapped me in blankets and taken me away.

  'We've an unconscious man—'

  As I forced the words out between chattering teeth, two lithe mariners were over the side without delay. Ryshad's dark, curly head appeared over the rail and he half climbed, half fell into the boat.

  'Livak!'

  I turned incredulously to see if I was imagining things or the owner of that harsh voice was really standing behind me.

  'Hello, Darni,' I said, having difficulty believing I was seeing him again.

  He looked past me to the sailors, lifting Shiv carefully on to a blanket, and I was pleased to see genuine concern in his eyes. A hatch opened and as Shiv was lowered carefully below to waiting hands, Darni heaved a sigh of relief. He moved abruptly to look down into our frail boat.

  'Geris?' There was a catch in his voice.

  I shook my head wearily. 'We found him but he was already dead.'

  The words threatened to choke me. I brushed at my eyes, suddenly full of tears from the biting wind, exhaustion and that abiding sorrow.

  Darni's face fell and I could not think what to say. I reached into my shirt and pulled out the documents I'd been cherishing, sea-stained and sweat-smeared though they were. 'I found some of his work. It's important - one of your wizards should see it.'

  Darni ignored the parchments. 'I'd rather have had Geris back,' he said gruffly.

  I fought a very real urge to ram the documents down his throat and was about to give him my opinion of his ingratitude when Ryshad draped a blanket over my shoulders. I huddled into it gratefully.

  'How do you come to be here, just when we need you? It's a cursed lucky coincidence.'

  He clasped his hands tightly round a steaming cup and I reached forward eagerly as a warmly clad sailor offered me one. It was spiced wine and the welcome warmth seared straight down to my toes.

  'Coincidence, my arse! This isn't some bard's fantasy ballad.' Darni lifted his head with a trace of his usual arrogance. 'I said we could find a trail in Inglis, and I was right. Those bastards in the black leathers cleared out at the same time as you lot but I took the time to make some contacts in Inglis. Everyone was trying to earn the reward for ringing the bell on Yeniya's killers and we tracked down that group who were trying to blend in by wearing local clothing. You remember, Livak?'

  I remembered his scepticism when Geris and I had said that was what they were doing but I kept quiet. It wasn't important now.

  'I reckoned they'd be desperate enough to try for another hit when they'd lost out to the other lot. I had details of other prospects with Tormalin artefacts in the city, so I went to the Watch. I'm an Archmage's agent, don't forget, with the insignia to prove it and the Council to back me up. The Guild leaders were as keen as Planir so we kept a close watch on all the likely targets.'

  Darni paused for breath, pride in his achievements evident, the desire to say 'I told you so' apparent though mercifully unspoken as yet. I was not interested; he could be as smug as a horse at stud for all I cared. We'd reached the islands before him and we'd found Geris, albeit too late, while he was probably bullying underlings with the threat of someone else's magic. I squeezed my eyes shut on tired tears.

  'So how do you come to be here, just when we need you?' Ryshad's tone was curious but sadly lacking in the admiration Darni was clearly expecting. An older, harsher voice answered him

  'Shivvalan is my pupil. Once I knew I was looking for him out here, finding those islands was comparatively easy.'

  I recognised the skinny white-haired man coming towards us as Otrick. He was shorter than I had imagined, barely my height, dressed in rough canvas breeches and a short, grubby blue cloak. To me, he looked more like a pirate than an eminent wizard. I curbed my desire to ask how come he hadn't managed it sooner, if it was so easy; a handful of days would have made all the difference to Geris, finding us before daybreak would have saved Aiten. I thrust away the sudden memory of his warm blood spilling over my hand.

  'How did you find our boat?' Ryshad asked, evidently glad to have someone other than Darni to thank, a sentiment I wholeheartedly shared.

  'That was a little more difficult, I have to admit. I've had every whale and dolphin this side of the Cape of Winds searching the seas.'

  Otrick grinned toothily at us and I was struck by the brilliance of his sapphire eyes.

  'That dragon,' I said suddenly. 'Was it real or an illusion?'

  Otrick looked at me, cunning and amusement mingled in his smile. 'That would be telling, my lady. It did the trick, didn't it?'

  We all looked at the wreckage-strewn sea, the screams of the dying Elietimm now replaced by the thin cries of seabirds summoned from who knew where to pick at the spoils.

  'Planir's compliments, Otrick, but could you come below?' A thin man dressed in a warm cloak appeared at his elbow. His tone managed to be both obsequious and aggravated at the same time; his expression of disapproval looked to be habitual, given the lines it was carving into an otherwise handsome enough face. His colour was pretty sickly and he moved like a man with belly-ache so I supposed he might have some excuse for his mood.

  'What do you want, Casuel? Oh, I suppose so. Come on, you two, you'd better get dry too.'

  Ryshad and I followed Otrick, leaving Darni standing dissatisfied on the deck. Getting out of the buffeting wind into a warm, dry cabin was one of the greatest pleasures I have ever experienced, and that includes Summer Solstice at the Gilded Rose in Relshaz. A sturdy, pink-faced girl with long brown hair, maybe ten years my junior, found me dry clothes and while I'd have preferred breeches, thick woollen stockings and four petticoats went a long way to keeping out the chill. I shrugged into an over-large shirt and bodice and wrapped myself securely in a serviceable shawl.

  'Where to now?' I could not stop myself yawning now the wakefulness of fear was deserting me. I glanced longingly at the feather-bedded bunk.

  'I think you'd better see Planir,' my benefactress said apologetically. 'He did ask to meet you.'

  'Are you a wizard?' I asked curiously; she looked as if she should still be in a schoolroom somewhere in the Lescari backwoods her accent betrayed.

  'Not yet.' She blushed even more pinkly. 'But I'm going to be.'

  I suppose I would have got excited about something like that at her age, but then I'd been busy trying to keep alive long enough to prove to my mother that I didn't really need her.

  'Lead on, then,' I said with the limited enthusiasm that was all I could muster. 'Sorry, I didn't catch your name.'

  'It's Allin.' She led me through a maze of ladders and wooden walls to a large cabin where five figu
res were bent over a table as others hovered attentively around. Two raised their heads as we entered, and one came forward, offering me his hand.

  'I'm Planir. I'm so glad to meet you.'

  The Archmage was not overly tall, and was dark-haired and lithe in build with angular features softened by warm grey eyes and an engaging smile. His voice was soft with the lilting accents of his Gidestan youth and had an intimate quality that rippled through me. I was suddenly aware of my matted hair and the fact that I must look like an unmade bed. He could have- been anywhere from forty years of age to sixty; fine lines fanned out from his eyes and his hair was receding but I'd bet he could talk any woman he wanted inside his bed-curtains. What he didn't look like, to my mind, was an Archmage.

  I forced my mind back to business. 'We couldn't save Geris but I found some of his work. It might help.'

  'Usara?' Planir beckoned with a commanding hand.

  A thin wizard in brown came forward and took the crumpled parchments eagerly.

  'Where exactly—'

  One of the other mages interrupted him abruptly.

  'Planir, we need you.'

  They both turned back to the table and, since no one said otherwise, I followed. An image was now floating above the rough wood. I gasped. If I had thought Shiv and Harna's duck pond was good, it was a child's drawing in the sand compared to this. I recognised the islands of the Elietimm but this was no mere map; perfect in every detail, I saw every beach, village and fortification. I shivered as I spied tiny figures frozen in the image; was this what it was like to be a god?

  'Now, if you can break that fissure, Kalion can bring up the molten rock and I'll work on the glacier.'

  The wizard doing the talking was a robust-looking woman in the clothes of a Caladhrian farmwife, with the slack belly and gappy teeth of someone who's done more than her fair share of child-bearing. For all that, her eyes were keen and her face commanding as she peered down at the tiny ice-clad landscape in front of her.