The Palace Job

by Patrick Weekes

  "But Loch didn't do any of that." From Orris's mouth, it sounded more like a whine than an argument.

  "Exactly, Warden. So what does that tell us?"

  Orris thought for a minute, and then it hit him. "She's recruiting."

  "That she is. She's going around with Kail to make contact, and she's asking them all to meet her somewhere. We don't need to know where she's going. We just need to know where the death priestess was headed, because that's where Loch will be."

  Orris frowned. "I don't see it, Pyvic. That's pretty justicar thinking, there, but we still don't know where the death priestess was going."

  Pyvic reached into a pouch and withdrew a small but serviceable folding map of the province. "Here we are," he said, pointing, "and here's the road south from town. Here's where it intersects the East-West merchant way. The death priestess can go in four directions. But going north brings her right back into town here, so she wouldn't do that." He crossed off that direction with a slash of his finger. "East takes her back to RosAelafuir, which is unlikely, since they've already attracted attention in the area."

  "That leaves Ros-Sesuf to the south and Ros-Uitosuf to the west." Orris grunted. "Even odds."

  "Not really. They'll be in Ros-Uitosuf." Pyvic gave Orris a frosty smile. "Do I have to remind you, Warden, what your prisoner was in for?" When Orris gave him a blank stare, Pyvic grimaced. "She was in for attempting to infiltrate Heaven's Spire. Once her group is gathered, they'll eventually head for the port-city of Ros-Oanki to try to steal an airship. And the only major town on the way to Ros-Oanki is Ros-Uitosuf."

  "Fine. Whatever you say, Justicar." Orris turned and spat as he walked away. "We'll see if you're just blowing smoke soon enough."

  "What is the target?" Desidora asked, pulling her auburn hair out of her face. Of all of them, she looked the least perturbed. "Also, can we get any more of that bread to soak up the sauce?"

  "Archvoyant Silestin," Loch said, and the room went quiet, "fancies himself quite the collector. He's come into possession of an ancient elven manuscript that once belonged to my family. If we get that, the elves will pay enough that we'll never need to work again. It's high-risk, but I believe the reward is worth it. If you want out, let me know now."

  Everyone looked at each other, guilty or appraising or frustrated. Kail passed Desidora a loaf of bread.

  "Right." Loch gestured with the fork. "The elven manuscript is an original copy of The Love Song of Eillenfiniel, signed by the three poets and with an intact enchantment of the fairy song that inspired them, recorded as they were composing." Desidora's jaw dropped. Tern nodded, lips pursed. Everyone else looked politely ignorant. "It's worth at least seven million to the elves."

  "How did your family get such an heirloom?" Hessler asked.

  "My father was a baron," Loch said shortly. "Minor nobility, with this as our most prized possession. My parents died during the war, and Silestin took guardianship of the land until my sister comes of age."

  Hessler squinted. "Aren't you of age?"

  "The captain was off fighting during the war," Kail said. "It's hard to keep track of who lives and who dies in the big battles." He grinned sourly. "The captain's efforts to reclaim her family's title have been..."

  "Problematic," Loch finished, smiling thinly, "and irrelevant. But I know the book exists, and I know Silestin has it in his vault."

  "Which we can't get into," Tern said, "since it's impossible to crack one of those vaults even if I had time to study one. And since we don't have that—"

  "We will," Loch said, "once we get up to Heaven's Spire. I've got a friend who will help."

  "So you don't know how to beat it right now?" Hessler asked acidly.

  "No, Magister, I don't. Much as you didn't know how you were getting out of that jail cell."

  "That's not fair!" Dairy leapt to his feet. "Mister Hessler was going to escape! And he was going to help me escape, too! You're... you're nothing but thieves!" Red-faced, he ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  "Well... you don't set up a heist with non-thieves," Tern commented. "That doesn't work as well."

  "Did you really have a plan to escape?" Desidora asked Hessler.

  "Oh, hell, no. I had nothing."

  "So that's the plan," Loch cut in. "We steal an airship, get up to Heaven's Spire, and meet my contact, who can get us into Silestin's palace. I don't know what we'll need, which is why I've got a wide range of skills at the table. When we've got a solid plan, we lift the book and contact the elves."

  "The dew is as constant as the spring mornings," Ululenia said, "and the zephyr is as unchanging as the afternoon sun. But the elves are fickle, flighty, infrequently found. What means have you, fair maiden, to bend their gaze to the world of men?"

  "The elves were always interested in buying the book from my father." Loch shrugged. "They told him how to contact them if he ever changed his mind. I'm assuming it's still valid, and that they're still interested. My contact can get us down to earth whenever we're ready. Even split, we all retire. Or purchase a large tract of forest. Or... whatever it is that unicorns do."

  "Frolic, primarily." Ululenia frowned. "When will my virgin return to me?"

  "Oh, lay off the lad," Hessler said with a sour look.

  "In sooth, I had planned—"

  "Even split?" Tern asked. "The kid and the warhammer each get as much as I do?"

  "I'm sure Ghylspwr and Dairy will both prove their worth to the team," Loch said calmly. "Even split. The math is easier."

  Hessler sniffed. "That assumes that this plan, and I use the word 'plan' extremely loosely, actually works."

  "Those safes don't crack themselves, Loch. That's all I'm saying."

  "Unlike your plans, Magister," Kail said brightly, "Loch's plans come together without complications."

  The door crashed open.

  Pyvic shouldered open the door to Uribin's with his sword drawn. Diners jumped to their feet as he strode in, scanning the room.

  "Ynk'ura ciel'urti," said a big bald black man in an apron.

  "Pleased to be here." Pyvic nodded. "I am Justicar Pyvic, following two escaped prisoners. I wish no harm on your establishment, but I must conduct a search."

  Behind him, the town guards looked at their friends nervously.

  "You with him?" Uribin pointed into the main room. Pyvic looked. Pyvic glared.

  Orris stumbled to his feet, tossing aside the shell of a half-devoured shellfish and wiping buttery fingers on a napkin. "Didn't think you were coming in until nine."

  "I got concerned about the number of people entering and leaving. Why are you not outside guarding the back?" Pyvic felt the slow rage burning in him again.

  "The other guards are doing it, Justicar." Orris gave a self-satisfied smirk. "Reckoned I'd see if she were here. Can't have you stealing the credit."

  "You were supposed to be outside so that she wouldn't see you—or did you think that a fat old white man in a military uniform would blend in here?" Pyvic gestured sharply at the main dining room.

  Orris's shot Pyvic a defiant glare. "She ain't in here—"

  "We heard otherwise." Pyvic looked at the hallway that led to the kitchens. "Uribin, you've got a back room? One for private parties? I'll need to search it." Without waiting for permission, he strode down the hallway

  "We've got a room, sure, but we don't use it," Uribin protested, wringing his big hands as he stopped before a large door. "It's not good to go in—"

  "Save it," Pyvic snapped, moving Uribin aside with his sword. Then he stepped in and put a shoulder to the door. It crashed open.

  "See?" Uribin said mildly after a long moment of silence. "We don't use it because of the big hole in the floor. Can't serve food in here. Somebody'd fall through and break a leg."

  "And the plates with the half-eaten food on them, still warm?" Pyvic asked acidly.

  Uribin gave him a broad grin. "The dishwasher goes too slow on busy nights. Sometimes we put the dirty dishes
out here for a bit."

  "Of course." Pyvic strode to the balcony and looked down to see the rest of the town guards, dim silhouettes just visible against the purple-gray of the water. "See anything down there?"

  "Arrogant apple, babbling brook, creeping cat?" one of them called back, and then fell over with a splash.

  "Damn it!" Pyvic stalked out of the restaurant with his men, ignoring Uribin's grinning farewell. "Orris, walk with me. The rest of you, tend to the men, then start searching. They can't be far." The other men darted off, leaving Pyvic and Orris alone in the street outside Uribin's.

  "Reckon that Urujar cook's playin' you," Orris noted sagely. "Of course he is." Pyvic rammed his sword back into its sheath.

  "We could question him. If you don't think you can do it, I—"

  "I told you to stay outside, Warden. You didn't. I didn't want you to be seen. You were. I wanted to catch the prisoners. They have escaped."

  "You were going to claim all the credit," Orris whined.

  "Orris, they escaped on your watch. I'm trying to fix your mistake. Stop getting in my way. In fact, get out of my way entirely." Pyvic let out a long breath. "I'm stationing you back in Ros-Oanki. You can watch the ships heading up to the Spire."

  Orris made a strangled noise. Pyvic stood silent. Finally, the warden spat at Pyvic's feet. "You think you can do any better, Justicar? You think you can make me your scapegoat? I'll be back up on the Spire, talking with folks who'll be watching you real close." He stomped away, gesticulating wildly as he shouted to himself.

  Pyvic shook his head. He'd pay for what he'd said to Orris, but not tonight.

  In the darkness downstream, eight people and one warhammer made quiet progress through the bushes.

  "Okay," Tern said quietly, "even split, including the kid and the warhammer."

  "That's the fastest I've ever seen anyone break through a floor." Kail's voice shone with admiration.

  "Besyn larveth'is," Ghylspwr said modestly.

  "How did you know they were coming?" Loch asked Dairy quietly. The boy had given them less than a minute of warning when he'd burst into the room.

  "The big angry man was ordering food." Dairy was looking around wildly, but he kept pace with the group. "He was glaring at the black... er, the Urujar..."

  "Black people is fine," Kail cut in. Loch glared him to silence.

  "Then Mister Uribin asked him if there were a problem, and the big angry man yelled that he wanted some food, that he had friends arriving soon, and he smiled when he said it, it wasn't a nice smile. And with his uniform, I just thought..."

  "You thought right." Hessler patted his shoulder. "Good job, Dairy."

  "How do these events change our plan?" Icy asked, his breath still even as they ran.

  "Not at all." Loch grinned. "Except that I don't think we'll stay the night in Ros-Uitosuf."

  Kail grimaced. "Straight on to Ros-Oanki, Captain?"

  "No rest for the wicked, Kail."

  Akus tore around the corner, quieted his rasping breath, and looked for something he could use if it came to a fight.

  He should've learned his lesson. After that near scrape with the justicar and Orris, he should have stopped telling the stories. Instead, he'd kept getting free drinks in each town he passed through, telling the story of how he'd broken out of the Cleaners.

  The two guild enforcers stopped at the entrance to the alley. Akus went still. They had torches, which he didn't like much, and swords, which Akus didn't like at all.

  Guild guys had jumped him in the last town. One of them had let slip that Jyelle had a beef with the two Urujar and anyone who'd helped them. Apparently she'd ratted the Urujar out to send them to the Cleaners in the first place.

  "Give it a look," one of the guys muttered, and started in with his torch raised high. Akus cursed Gedesar silently and offered Io-fergajar a quick whispered prayer.

  Akus had gathered rumors over the next few nights. Word had it that Loch had left Jyelle to die over in the Empire during the war. Word also had it that Jyelle had been trying to kill peasants when Loch did it. Akus didn't care about that. If she and some guild leader wanted to gut each other over an old feud, Akus wanted no part of it.

  "Hang on," said the guy in the lead. "I think—" And then Akus jumped out from around the corner and hit him with the rotten plank he'd scooped out of the mud. It caught the guy on the arm and knocked his torch back toward his face, and he flinched. Akus lunged in, broke the guy's nose, grabbed the torch, threw it at the other guy, and shoved him hard into the wall. Then he started running.

  People always underestimated Akus. That was why he was still alive. They saw the big guy with the scars and they thought, he's too dumb to run away. He's got too much pride.

  Akus ran two blocks, then turned and made for the shadows. He'd hide until morning, head out of town with a merchant train. He was going to live a happy man someplace where they'd never heard of Loch or Jyelle, even if he did have to buy his own drinks.

  The shadows twisted beside him, and then a blade sliced cleanly through his hamstring.

  He yelled, lunged, connected with nothing. He dropped to one knee, trying to keep quiet.

  The second blade stabbed into his ankle.

  "This ain't got nothin' to do with me," Akus panted when he'd managed to bite off the scream. "Nothin' to do with me."

  "If it did," said a voice from the shadow, "you might be worth something."

  The guild enforcers stepped into the alley, and Akus, with one bad leg and one bad ankle, raised his callused fists.

  They still had their swords.

  Seven

  They'd purchased passage with a caravan heading to RosOanki. Most of them rode in the wagons, while Ululenia accompanied the caravan as a magnificent snowy white mare whose mane shone in the morning light and whose horn was almost visible to the casual observer. She wouldn't let anyone but Dairy ride her.

  There was a pause one day when they reached a small crossroads and found something placed on a sign near the junction.

  While the wagoners calmed horses made nervous by the smell of blood, Loch neared the sign. Kail was already there. He didn't look at Loch.

  There was a note pinned to the tattered remains of Akus's shirt. It fluttered in the wind, but Loch made it out quickly enough.

  Captain,

  Hope your time away has been relaxing. Looking forward to showing you what I've learned since our time together.-

  Jyelle

  Kail made a small gesture of blessing. "Couldn't have known."

  "Doesn't matter." Loch didn't look over.

  "His fault for spreading the story. He had to know—" "Doesn't matter."

  Kail sighed. "No, not really. I'm sorry, Captain."

  Loch bit her lip, nodded shortly. "Doesn't matter. But thanks." She turned to the wagoners. "I'll get him buried. It won't be long." They nodded their thanks, still calming the horses and trying to keep the women and children from seeing anything.

  When Loch looked back to the wagons, Tern was there. Her rosy cheeks had gone pale.

  "Wow, Loch." She squinted, reading the note. "You've got lovely enemies."

  "It's a gift," Kail said shortly. "Come on. Help me find a shovel."

  "And while some of my fellow Voyants want to spend more on programs for the lazy," Silestin called down from the podium, "I'm going to fight them tooth and nail! I'm going to help the hardworking citizens of the Republic keep their money in their pockets!"

  The crowd, a mixed group of white and Urujar laborers who'd been brought up to the Spire to hear Silestin speak, clapped loudly.

  "You're good people, dedicated churchgoing people!" Silestin declared. "You don't need Skilled handouts! You need your people on the Spire to keep you safe, so that you can make this Republic the best country in the world!" As the crowd applauded again, Silestin gestured. A young Urujar woman, beautiful even with a band of smoky crystal obscuring her eyes, came out onto Silestin's stage, her movements steady but careful
.

  "You hear the Skilled talk about helping others," Silestin continued, his voice pitched lower now. "They want to legislate charity. Kind of makes you wonder what kind of person thinks charity has to be forced, doesn't it?" The young woman smiled at the crowd, and then Silestin led her to the podium. "I didn't see the Skilled Party helping young Naria when Imperials took her eyes and her family during the war. Did the Skilled help you? They must have been helping somebody," he said with a chuckle, looking around the crowd, "to hear how they talk about their programs and taxes, but mostly, I think they're helping themselves."

  Silestin caught sight of Warden Orris standing at the edge of the crowd and cut smoothly to the end of his speech. "The Skilled would like you to believe that the Republic isn't on the right path. They think we need to bow down to the Empire, and I'm sure the Empire would like that." Silestin's adopted daughter Naria shook her head angrily. "But that's not the kind of man I am," Silestin went on. "I think the Republic needs to move forward, not back! Ambassador Bi'ul, come on up here."

  From the front row, a tall, lean figure stood. His ivory skin flickered with a multicolored aura, like a rainbow beside a waterfall, and his loose black robe rippled like oil as he moved. "This is Ambassador Bi'ul of the Glimmering Folk," Silestin said to the suddenly hushed crowd. "He's here meeting with the Voyancy, the first of the Glimmering Folk in a thousand years to do any nation that honor! That's the kind of strength the Republic has, people! That's how we're keeping you safe!"

  Silestin, the ambassador, and Naria waved to the cheering crowd for awhile. Then Silestin and Naria shook some hands. When enough of a crowd had gathered around Naria, Silestin slipped off to Warden Orris, who was smiling broadly.

  "Great speech, sir!" Orris declared.

  "Just telling it like I see it," Silestin said, smiling at the workers nearby. In a lower voice, he added, "I thought you were taking care of the problem on the ground."