The Palace Job

by Patrick Weekes

  "If he's that old, why did he still have his name out for jobs?" Loch was not precisely in the mood to be reasonable. They'd ridden hard to get to Ros-Sesuf, and they had nothing to show for it.

  "Got me," Kail said. "Nothing to do for it now, though."

  "You don't think the death priestess could—"

  "No, Loch, I really don't. I really profoundly don't."

  "Let's hit the taverns."

  In the dockside taverns, drink was cheap, and people didn't watch what they said too closely. Still, nobody talked. In fact, they clammed up as soon as she and Kail came into the room. Loch figured that Jyelle had been passing the word.

  "Do we really need a wizard?" Kail murmured a few hours later as they left. "We've got the tinker. We've got the death priestess. Hell, I bet the unicorn could do in a pinch."

  "You don't take a hill without cavalry," Loch said. "You don't guard a pass without archers. And you sure as hell don't take Heaven's Spire without a wizard."

  "See, you say that like it's an aphorism, but I've never heard that before."

  "There's a lot you've never heard before, Kail."

  They kept listening. Around midnight, an angry guard told them his story about a wizard who'd cursed some caravan's cargo. The wizard was slated for a quick death in the morning. He was shackled in the dockside jail.

  Loch and Kail wandered over. The jailhouse door had only a single lock, and Kail had them inside in moments. The lone guard was asleep at his desk. Loch thoughtfully woke him up by prodding his throat with her sword, and it was agreed that the guard would spend the night peacefully and quietly bound and gagged in the broom closet.

  There were only two occupied cells. A sandy-haired kid was asleep in one of them. A squinting dark-haired guy was crouched in the other, wearing all kinds of shackles. "You the wizard?" Kail asked.

  The wizard looked up and glowered. "No, I'm just wearing these robes because they're so comfortable."

  "We've got a job," Kail said. "We need a wizard."

  "What kind of job?" the wizard asked.

  "The kind where we unlock that cell and all those shackles," Loch put in.

  "I think I'd be interested in that kind of job," said the wizard.

  "Glad to hear it. Kail, help the man." Kail dropped to one knee, leaned in, and got to work on the cell door, humming to himself, and Loch added, "What's your specialty?"

  The wizard squinted. "What would you like my specialty to be?"

  "The truth," Loch said as Kail snickered and twisted open the cell door. "Look, we've got a schedule, and that Cestran guy is dead, so you're our wizard. I just want to know what I'm dealing with."

  "Cestran was..." The wizard looked dumbfounded. Kail snapped open the lock to his foot-shackles.

  "Oh, he was good," Kail said. "You ever need a helpful little demon or a gout of fire, Cestran was your man. There wasn't a safe in the country that man couldn't burn through... well, except for the dwarven-made ones. But that's because of the stuff they put in the sides."

  "Yvkefer," the wizard said to no one in particular. "He was supposed to get me back into the university. He was a thief? I do illusions."

  "Illusions?" Kail got another shackle undone. "But you can still, like, throw gouts of fire when you have to, right?"

  "Illusionary ones, yes," said the wizard irritably.

  "Oh. Well, we'll figure out something for you to do."

  "Listen," said the wizard, "the kid has to come too." He gestured at the boy in the next cell.

  Loch looked at the boy, who showed no particular talent save the ability to sleep through a jailbreak. "No."

  "That's the deal. He comes, or I... so help me, I'll stay in this cell!"

  The noise woke up the kid. "Mister Hessler, are you all right?" he asked, blinking and getting up. "Are these people hurting you?" His arms were bare, and in the flickering candlelight, Loch saw something on his arm.

  "Evening, kid." She looked closer. "What is that, a tattoo?"

  "It's, er, my birthmark," said the kid, flushing angrily. "And I don't care what you say. You wouldn't be the first to make fun of it!"

  "Kid, I'm Urujar. Making fun of your birthmark would be the pot calling the kettle... forget it. Kail, spring the kid, too. He's with us."

  "Really?"

  "Really. I'll be outside." She sheathed her sword and left the jailhouse.

  The men she'd heard were waiting in the street. Just two of them, wearing loose nondescript clothes and holding quarterstaffs whose metal-shod ends had nails driven through them. "Jyelle have message for you," one of them said, his nasal accent marking him as a sailor from the old country. They began to spin the staffs.

  "Jyelle should remember that a good scout doesn't send messages she could deliver herself," Loch noted.

  "Jyelle say you are fool to come back to her province," said the other one. "You should have run away when you had the chance."

  "Her province? Jyelle was a two-bit thief when I saw her in Ros-Oanki," Loch said. "Are you happy taking orders from a girl who rats out guild members?"

  That gave one of them the pause—nobody liked a rat. The other one kept spinning his staff. "She tell us what happen," he sneered. "You leave her in the war. Leave her for dead in the Empire. She just put you in jail."

  The door creaked open behind Loch. She didn't turn. Instead, she stepped forward, hands raised.

  "Kail, please don't make any sudden movements," she said. "Jyelle says that we left her for dead behind enemy lines during the war. Do you remember doing that?"

  Kail hmm'd thoughtfully. "There was that brief disagreement when she tried to kill an Imperial family for their food."

  "Oh, that." Loch shrugged. "Fight the enemy, not their people."

  "I'm guessing Jyelle never took that one to heart, Captain."

  The sailor nearest Loch finished his spin with a mocking salutation, his staff jabbing the air just shy of her throat. "Maybe we bring you to her... later, no? It is some time since I have an Urujar woman!"

  "Peut-etre je vous connais," Kail said suddenly and flawlessly in the language of the old country. "Je ne veus pas de probleme. Je suis passé beaucoup de temps dans la mer."

  The sailors regarded Kail skeptically. "Dans quelle mer, Urujar?"

  Kail grinned. "Dans to mere!"

  The sailors' looks turned murderous, and in that moment, as the one with the staff held at Loch's throat turned toward Kail, Loch moved.

  Her hands snapped up, closed around the staff just behind the nail-studded head, and slammed it back into the sailor's face. As he dropped to his knees with a wet moan, she pulled his staff away and speared it like a harpoon down onto the foot of the other sailor.

  As he shouted, she cracked the staff up between his legs, spun it as he dropped into the crouch every man in the world recognized, and came down hard on the back of his head. He didn't move.

  "You said something about his mother again, didn't you?" Loch asked over her shoulder.

  "Don't mess with success, Captain."

  "Remind me not to threaten her," the wizard noted, "ever." "Gosh!" said the kid.

  Loch turned to the sailor she'd hit first. He had his hands over his mouth.

  "You tell Jyelle that her old captain intends to do business in the area," she said. "She can be in my way, or she can be out of my way. Tell her that where she decides to stand isn't going to change my plan. Think you can pass that on?" The sailor nodded mutely. "Good." The staff landed beside him with a clatter. "Oh, and tell her that she was always a lousy scout."

  She headed for the city gates without looking back.

  Six

  Ros-Uitosuf sat near a small fast river that had once been a large slow river, a tumbled collection of grand old houses and humble modern homes. It was hot and humid. The kahvahouses and restaurants paid Urujar children and pretty women to swing fans in the doorways.

  The sign outside one restaurant read simply "Uribin's", and showed a plate covered with catfish and potatoes. Loch
and Kail went inside, tossing a coin to the Urujar girl fanning cool air their way.

  "Ynk 'ura delsaid Uribin, leaping to his feet as they

  came in. He was still big and bald, and he'd been eating a lot of his own food over the past few years. He wore an apron with a lobster on it, and his bare arms were still muscular.

  "Darveth'isti!" Loch said, offering a handshake and getting an enormous hug instead. "What's an old friend have to do to get some decent catfish?"

  "Ros-Uitosuf is the best in the province, Cap'n," Uribin said with a big toothy grin. "And Uribin's is the best in Ros-Uitosuf."

  "Got a private room?" Loch looked out at the gently lit main room, where people—most Urujar, but more white than she'd expected—drank good wine and ate hot spicy food. "Business."

  "Done, Cap'n." Uribin gestured to a young woman whose lighter complexion mirrored Loch's. "Denia, show the lady to the back room. Set as many places as she needs." Loch left with Denia, leaving Kail and Uribin alone for a moment. "Trouble?"

  "Possibly," Kail said with a wry smile.

  "You and the cap'n are family," Uribin said quietly.

  "Understood." Kail nodded.

  "Family doesn't cause trouble unless they have to."

  "Also understood." Kail looked around the room. "You have any problems with Jyelle?"

  Uribin snorted. "Some men came once, asking for protection money. I insulted their mothers and then hit them when they got angry. No problems since then."

  Kail nodded solemnly. "That usually works for me."

  "You're certain, Ketch?" Pyvic asked, relaxing his hold slightly. "I want you to think carefully."

  "Definitely, Justicar," said the man with Pyvic's sword pressing against his throat. "Two Urujar, a man and a woman. They met up with a safecracker and her Imperial friend here in town, then left."

  "Which way did they leave?" Pyvic's sword didn't move.

  "Separately, Justicar. The safecracker and her friend went west, and the Urujar went north. Only thing to the north is Woodsedge!"

  Pyvic lowered his sword. Ketch collapsed, holding his throat and staring at Pyvic with big eyes. "Next time I come into town saying I just want to talk, don't go for your knife." As the thief glowered, Pyvic added, "I've heard rumors of a boss in the area, a woman. Tell her that I want the Urujar. I've got no other worries unless someone puts herself in my way. Clear?"

  "Clear." The thief nodded. "Thank you, Justicar."

  Pyvic turned to Orris. "Get the men ready, Warden. We ride for Woodsedge."

  They all sat in the large back room with only three walls—the fourth was a balcony overlooking the river, and the entire restaurant was on stilts on a steep sloping hill. A single lamp lit the room in soft flickering orange, and most of the plates were laden with catfish crusted with sweet potatoes and pecans—save for one plate, which had stir-fried vegetables on it instead.

  "The waiters won't be back for an hour," Loch said, breaking the silence. "You all know me. You may not know each other." She took a bite of catfish, closed her eyes and paused for a long moment. "Damn. Missed that." Then she started pointing with the fork.

  "Magister Hessler. He does illusions, and he's an expert in magical artifacts."

  Hessler squinted. "I wouldn't say I'm an expert, technically, since..." He broke off as everyone looked at him. "Sure, fine, I'm an expert."

  The fork pointed again. "Ululenia. Unicorn and shapeshifter, and she can mess with minds."

  "I can also purify water, encourage plants to grow, and speak with forest animals," Ululenia added, her horn a rainbow shimmer flickering on her pale brow, "although I don't imagine that will come up."

  "You're a unicorn?" Dairy exclaimed.

  "And serendipitously seated next to a virgin," Ululenia murmured with a sweetly curving smile. Dairy flushed beet-red.

  "See? I promised." Loch pointed again. "Icy Fist. Contortionist, acrobat. He's our man on the walls."

  "Do you radiate cold magic when you punch people?" Kail asked.

  "I do not engage in physical combat," Icy replied, taking a bite from his vegetable plate, "and I possess no elemental magical ability."

  "Then why Icy Fist?"

  "It is short for 'Indomitable Courteous Fist', which is my full name.

  "That's significantly less cool, Icy."

  "Tern. Lock-man and tinker."

  "Lock-person."

  "Lock-person and tinker." Loch rolled her eyes. "She recently took out a dwarf-made safe in Ros-Aelafuir, and blew out a jailhouse wall to boot."

  "That was you?" Desidora asked. "That was really impressive!" Tern smiled and lifted a wineglass in thanks.

  "Sister Desidora," Loch went on. "Death priestess." Tern dropped her wineglass. "She'll be working with Hessler on magical defenses, and she's got an ancient warhammer that will help if it comes to a fight. Which is not the plan."

  "Besyn larveth'is," Ghylspwr declared.

  Hessler leaned forward, looking from Ghylspwr to Desidora. "Could I maybe see your talking warhammer for just a minute or two?"

  "Kutesosh gajair'is!"

  "Maybe not right at the moment," Desidora said.

  "And this is Dairy," Loch finished, watching as the boy went beet-red again. "He's here to... well, he's here." She looked around the table. "That's it. Eight of us."

  "Nine," Desidora corrected, holding up Ghylspwr.

  "Nine?" Hessler asked incredulously. "It's a warhammer."

  "If your little brother counts," Desidora said, dark eyes narrowing, "Ghylspwr counts."

  "Besyn larveth'isr

  "I'm not his brother," Dairy mumbled. "I'm an orphan."

  "As each petal, gently curving in satin embrace, is valued by the rose, so should we count the sweet virgin among our number." Ululenia paused. "He should definitely count. Definitely."

  "Nine it is," Loch said, rapping the table with her fork. "The nine of us are going to get this job done."

  "And that job is?" Tern asked.

  "We're going to sneak up to Heaven's Spire, break into an Archvoyant's palace, and steal back something he stole from my family, something expensive enough for us all to retire on." In the stunned silence, Loch took another bite of the catfish. "Gods, this is good."

  "Yes, sir, I've seen them," Merigan said to Pyvic as they walked the freshly-laid streets of Woodsedge. "They passed through a few weeks ago." He looked back behind them. "Does your assistant need help? We could get him some soothing herbs."

  "Your assistant?" Orris shouted from behind them. "I'm the warden for Heaven's Spire! I'm in charge of—"

  "He's in charge of assisting me, at the moment," Pyvic said mildly. "And he's not accustomed to hard riding. Can you tell me where they went?"

  "Yes, sir," Merigan said promptly. "They asked where the largest and wealthiest temple in the nearby area was, and then left for the regional temple of Ael-meseth on the westward trail."

  "My thanks, Mayor Merigan," Pyvic said. "I appreciate your help." The young man ducked his head, and Pyvic looked curiously at the massive humanoid figures at the edge of town. "And you really made peace with the ogres?"

  Merigan smiled. "Yes, sir. Just have to show them you're not going to back down. I think they'd rather talk than fight, too, when it comes down to it."

  "Glad to hear it." Pyvic chuckled. "Good day, Mayor." He gestured for Orris to follow.

  "Pompous little... he thought I was your assistant!" Orris shouted once they were a safe distance away. "That little boy should have been taught a lesson!"

  "More flies with honey, Warden," Pyvic said, not turning. "It seems the young mayor learned that. Perhaps you should, too."

  When the shouting died down, Loch finished off her catfish, pushed her plate away, and said, "Questions?"

  "Are you insane?" Hessler's eyes actually opened all the way, he was so excited.

  "Not as of yet," Loch said calmly. "Tern?"

  "Why Heaven's Spire?" The tinker cleaned her spectacles with a soft rag produced from one of her d
ress's many pockets. "The Voyants might be the most powerful men in the Republic, but they're not the richest, at least not in terms of things we can carry out. And I know they've got the best security."

  "Captain's got a plan," Kail said. "She's always got a plan." "Do they always work, Little One?" Ululenia asked. It looked like she was asking innocently.

  Loch decided not to field that one.

  "I can't help you," Father Bertrus said shortly, adjusting the neckline of his vestments. "We've seen no one like that here. Other, more pressing matters have demanded our attention."

  "What has demanded your attention, Father?" Pyvic asked shortly. "We know that the prisoners came this way after asking about wealthy temples in the area."

  Father Bertrus stiffened. "Perhaps they were with her," he murmured, and then a grim smile lit his face. "It is good news for me if the woes of my temple involve you, though it may not be good news for you, Justicar."

  "I'm listening, Father." Pyvic kept his tone polite and formal.

  "Our temple was attacked by a death priestess." Orris lowered his voice to a grim whisper. "The temptress attempted to entice us with her unholy wiles, and when we were not swayed, she used dark sorcery to steal several priceless relics from our vault."

  "Do you know which way she went when leaving town, Father?"

  Bertrus gave him a sour look. "South, much good it will do you. The road hits a major crossroads a day or two out of town. She could be anywhere by now. Now, if you will excuse me." He stalked back into his temple without waiting for Pyvic to reply.

  "Looks like we're out of luck now," Orris said with a snicker. "Bet you're wishing you'd paid a bit more attention to what I got us from Alms."

  "I know where they'll be," Pyvic said. "Come. We're headed south."

  "But you heard the man!" Orris grabbed Pyvic's shoulder. "We don't know where she's going! She could be anywhere!" He flinched as Pyvic took the hand off his shoulder, then sneered. "Get as mad as you like, you wanted to be in charge, and now you'll have to go explain why you didn't get the job done."

  "Think for a minute." Pyvic glowered. "We don't need to know where Loch and Kail went if we know where they're going." Orris stared at him blankly, and Pyvic sighed and started ticking off points. "Wherever Loch went, something strange has happened—either a crime, like robbing the temple or cracking the dwarven safe, or this sudden peace with the ogres in Woodsedge."