The City of Thieves

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  “There’s nothing we can do about it now.” Niall put away his blade and returned his dagger to its sheath. “We should move on before the hunters find us.”

  “Wait.” Morwen’s voice was full of alarm. “Lucien’s missing.”

  Berengar stared at the tunnels. “Did the Acolytes capture him?”

  Teelah shook her head. “No. He was here a moment ago.”

  “Not anymore,” Niall said.

  Berengar looked around, but there was no sign of him.

  Lucien was gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A blight lay upon the forest. Berengar spotted footprints left behind in the soft earth. “He’s close.” He stared past the crooked trees into the shadows beyond. A set of matching tracks led farther away. “Leave the horses. We go on foot from here.”

  It hadn’t taken long to pick up Lucien’s trail. Rather than continuing their pursuit, the Acolytes had withdrawn, allowing the companions to retrieve their horses. Berengar knew better than to take the retreat as a good sign. More likely than not, the monster hunters were scouts gone to rendezvous with a larger force. It wouldn’t be long before the Acolytes returned in greater numbers.

  The survivors they rescued were safe, but for how long? With their home in ruins, the community’s members had nowhere to go. Cathán’s corruption left much of the forest uninhabitable, and Leinster’s laws made leaving the Elderwood unthinkable for the nonhumans. It was decided the survivors would retreat to the ruins of Ferbane while Berengar and his companions went after Lucien. Berengar and Teelah were seasoned trackers more than capable of following the king’s trail.

  Faolán growled at something ahead, and Berengar motioned for the others to hide themselves. A living shadow detached itself from the trees, glided across the path, and vanished from view.

  “Sluagh,” Berengar said when it was gone. “Why the devil would the king venture into such a place?”

  Azura held a finger to her lips. “Hush now. Here the trees have ears.”

  A sudden movement came from the brush. Berengar quietly reached for his blade but stopped short when a fox poked its head out from a bush. After Azura bent low and whispered into its ear, the fox slipped back into the brush with a silent nod.

  “What was that about?” Much to Berengar’s annoyance, Azura gave no answer.

  The sky grew bleak as they went on their way. Sluagh roamed freely, darkening the forest with their sinister presence. The specters weren’t the only potential dangers, as unfriendly goblins patrolled the area while crows watched from trees.

  Teelah came to a halt. “Listen.” Dry leaves crunched underfoot somewhere nearby. She sniffed the air and quickened her pace. Ahead, Lucien wandered the forest. When they called to him, the king gave no sign of acknowledging their presence.

  “What are you doing, you little fool?” Berengar hissed. “You’ll be seen.”

  Again Lucien failed to respond. Niall rushed forward and pulled Lucien into the brush before he could draw more attention to himself. The moment Niall released his hold, Lucien attempted to return to the path, forcing them to restrain him.

  Morwen snapped her fingers in front of him, but Lucien merely stared ahead with a vacant expression. “He’s under some kind of trance.” When she closed her eyes and held her staff on him, the blue runestone pulsed with faint light. “Blood magic.”

  “Cathán. Snap out of it, boy.” Berengar tried shaking Lucien awake, but the king’s eyes remained blank and empty.

  “Only breaking the trance will wake him.” Morwen selected a spellbook from her satchel and flipped through its pages until she came to one she had marked. “I marked these pages when we were looking for a way to lift the sleeping curse. There are a few spells that might do the trick.”

  Godfrey regarded the magician’s satchel curiously. “How do you manage to fit all those books and potions into such a small bag?”

  “It’s enchanted with a charm of holding. I did it myself.” Morwen opened the bag to show off her handiwork before returning to the task at hand. “Ah, I think this incantation will do nicely.”

  A twig snapped nearby where a goblin scout watched. Teelah took aim with her bow but hesitated rather than releasing the string, and the goblin scurried off.

  “Blast it!” Berengar shot Niall a warning look. “That scout will bring the others down on our heads. We can’t stay here.”

  “Wait.” Morwen pressed her outstretched palm against the king’s forehead. “Teacht ar ais chuig an solas. Scaoileann tú ón rud atá i do sheilbh. Teacht ar ais chuig an solas. Open your eyes.”

  Lucien blinked several times in rapid succession, and his brow arched in confusion. “Where are we? What am I doing here?”

  “The druid attempted to lure you to him.”

  Azura quickly cocked her head to one side. “They’re coming!”

  Black arrows fell from branches as the goblins returned in force.

  Berengar drew his sword, and the others did the same. “Run!”

  The company raced through the forest with the goblins at their backs. Above, spiders jumped from tree to tree in pursuit. When one leapt at Lucien, Berengar stepped in his path and cut it down the middle. Howls came from wolves, which quickly outpaced the goblins. Sluagh appeared on all sides, forcing the company to weave through the forest to avoid them. Everywhere they looked there were monsters.

  They stumbled past the trees, and without warning the forest was behind them. Ahead loomed a great, ring-shaped henge. A stone circle surrounded the henge’s bank. Ritual symbols and markings were painted in blood on the standing stones. Inside an inner circle of skulls, Cathán sat crossed-legged, chanting with his scythe laid across his lap. Behind him towered a monstrous tree with blackened and charred bark. Blood oozed from its surface to form pools along the ground.

  Morwen whitened. “I’ve seen this place before, in my vision from the elder tree.”

  The monsters herded them toward the henge. Surrounded, the companions stood back-to-back with their weapons at the ready, but their enemies made no move to attack.

  Cathán climbed to his feet and took up his scythe. “You have returned, Warden Berengar.” He looked around, searching for Lucien. “But where is the king?”

  “The boy is here,” the tree rasped. “Look closer.”

  Cathán muttered a string of words in a black tongue, and his eyes fixed on Lucien’s impish form. “Fairy magic. Clever, but not clever enough.” He held out his hand to Lucien. “Come to me, and together we will wake Caorthannach from her slumber.”

  Lucien resisted. “I do not fear you, druid. These lands are under my protection.”

  “Little fool. Your death will help usher in that of mankind itself.” As he spoke, a vast wraithlike presence covered the earth and took on the form of a giant that snaked across the ground and stretched its hands toward Lucien.

  Berengar recognized the shape. Its nightmarish features still haunted his thoughts. “Balor.”

  “Margolin succeeded in giving Balor shape in this world, but you thwarted the ritual before it could be completed. Once I have collected enough souls, I will finish what he started and resurrect Balor.”

  “Your plan is obvious,” Morwen said. “You intend to use Caorthannach to birth a new army of monsters so you can destroy Dún Aulin and claim the souls of all its inhabitants.”

  “Clever girl. I need only a sacrifice of royal blood, and you’ve so foolishly brought me the king of Leinster. How fitting, as it was King Lucien’s father who forced my hand all those years ago. Even more fitting that it is your doing, Warden Berengar. In the end, you couldn’t save the people of Dún Aulin after all.”

  Berengar tightened his grip on his sword. “We’ll see.”

  Cathán trained his scythe on Lucien. “Bring me the king. Kill the others, but save the warden for last.”

  Berengar readied himself to make a final stand, but before the monsters could attack, the ground started to tremble. Cathán stared past them to the fore
st’s edge, where the fox Azura befriended leapt from the trees. Animals of all varieties followed in a stampede that caught the monsters unawares. Birds flocked from the sky by the hundreds, overwhelmed the crows, and descended on Cathán and his forces.

  Azura smiled triumphantly. “Now would be a good time to run.”

  Berengar cleaved through a spider in his way and broke into a sprint. “To the horses! Quick!”

  Cathán held his arms high, and vines shot out of the ground to block their path. One vine wrapped itself around Lucien’s foot to drag him back, but Berengar severed the vine with his sword and pulled the king free. At Cathán’s command, dark clouds swarmed across the sky, powerful winds roared with fury, and lightning fell in bursts across the field.

  Berengar and the others fled into the forest. The chaos unleashed by the storm scattered animals and Cathán’s forces alike, giving the companions the opportunity to slip through the woods unharmed.

  A strange look came over Prince Tristan’s face when they reached their horses, and he turned to face his cousin. “I might have done a poor job showing it, but I was always fond of you, cousin.” He unstrapped his sword and handed it to the king. “I was always rubbish with the blade. Perhaps it will serve you better than I.”

  “What are you doing?” Lucien accepted the blade with evident bewilderment.

  “You heard the druid. He needs a sacrifice of royal blood—blood that flows through my veins as well.”

  “You can’t mean…”

  “You can’t outrun them. Not unless I lead them away.” Tristan clasped Niall’s hand. “Get Lucien back to the capital. If he catches me, Cathán will take me to the Giant’s Foot for the ritual. That will give you time enough to flee these woods, expose Valmont, and put the true king on the throne.”

  For the first time, Lucien stared up at his cousin without contempt. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

  “You were right about what you said before. I know I haven’t always been the kind of man you would’ve liked me to be. Try not to judge me too harshly. People aren’t always one thing or the other.” Tristan ruffled Lucien’s hair affectionately. “Farewell, cousin.”

  “We’ll come back for you,” Niall promised. “We won’t leave you to be sacrificed.”

  “It appears it’s finally my turn to play the hero, old friend.” Tristan put a foot in the stirrup and looked back at the others one last time. “I always wanted a ballad in my honor.” With that, he spurred his horse forward and galloped down the trail with wolves following at his heels.

  The companions rode east until they were out of harm’s way. They fell back to Ferbane, where the survivors who fled the cave awaited their return. The people gathered around the ruins when they approached. Some searched for Tristan.

  “We can’t stay here,” one said. “The Acolytes will hunt us down if we do.”

  “But where will we go?” another asked.

  Berengar didn’t have an answer.

  Azura started forward. “We cannot linger. We must set out while the way to Dún Aulin remains open.”

  Morwen shook her head. “What about the people here? We can’t just leave them.”

  “We don’t have a choice. Völundr must be stopped before he reunites the halves of the cursed blade.”

  “If Cathán succeeds in freeing Caorthannach, Dún Aulin will fall all the same.”

  Berengar nodded. “Morwen’s right.”

  While the companions debated their next course of action, tempers flared among the survivors. With everyone on edge, it didn’t take much to push the community past its breaking point. Troubled murmurings quickly escalated to arguments and accusations, and it wasn’t long before humans and the various creatures were at each other’s throats.

  “That’s enough!” Lucien forced his way to the crowd’s center and climbed atop a well. The king looked over the creatures gathered in his midst, and a hush fell over the crowd. “I used to think all nonhumans were monsters. But I was wrong.” As he spoke, Azura’s enchantment fell away, and he returned to human form, once more wearing a silver crown. “A dark fairy has stolen my throne and threatens to reunite the halves of the cursed blade. If he succeeds, Leinster will fall into darkness, and men and nonhumans alike will suffer and die. I must stop him, but I cannot do it alone.

  “I know I have no right to ask for your help. We have an ugly history. My people cast you out. We drove you from your homes and the lands you once held. You’ve been persecuted, hunted, and made to watch your way of life destroyed. I make this vow to you now, in the sight of the Lord of Hosts—stand with me, and when the time comes, I will not forget it. Fight for Leinster, and I pledge to forge a new peace between all our peoples.”

  While Morwen greeted the king’s proclamation with enthusiasm, Berengar remained skeptical. Imogen had promised something similar. So often the powerful used others as pawns only to discard them when they were no longer of use. The people of Dún Aulin would not take kindly to monsters in their presence. Would Lucien remember his vow then, when the fighting was done?

  Lucien drew his sword and held it high. “Who will stand with me?”

  For a long moment, no one spoke, and the only sound was the wind shaking free autumn leaves from the trees. Then Teelah stepped out from the crowd, raised her bow, and nodded to Lucien. The goblins did the same, and one by one the remaining creatures cheered and raised their weapons or fists in solidarity with the king.

  Berengar turned his attention to Azura, who watched the scene unfold with a knowing smirk. “Did you plan for this to happen?”

  “I wanted only to teach him a lesson. Perhaps he’s learned it.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “What now?” Godfrey asked as Lucien and Teelah rejoined the company.

  Niall readied his horse. “I’m going to the Giant’s Foot to stop Cathán.”

  Berengar stepped toward him. “Not without me, you’re not. The druid and I have unfinished business.”

  “I’ll come too,” Godfrey said. “But the odds are against us. Cathán has an army with him. And what of the people here? There are many who are too weak or young to fight. If the others leave for Dún Aulin, who will protect them from the Acolytes?”

  Niall stroked his beard. “The monsters want to kill us. The Acolytes want to kill us. I say we pit our enemies against each other. We’ll draw the Acolytes out and lead them away from here to the Giant’s Foot. That will leave the city watch and the Brotherhood of Thieves for the rest of you to deal with.”

  “Völundr will know we’re coming. It will take cunning and skill to find our way inside the city unseen—a task a thief and a goblin are uniquely suited for.” Azura nodded to acknowledge Teelah, a gesture the goblin returned.

  “That still leaves Valmont and the false king,” Morwen said.

  Azura smiled. “Which is why we will require a magician’s assistance.”

  Berengar crossed his arms. “The girl stays with me.”

  “We need her. Völundr is powerful. Without a wand, it will be difficult for me to stand against him alone.”

  “You won’t be alone.” Morwen turned to Berengar. “She’s right.”

  “Fine, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “I don’t like it any more than you. You need me watching your back against that druid.”

  “I’ve handled Cathán before. I can do it again. This time, I’ll make sure he stays dead.” He reached down and cupped her face in his hands. “You know how dangerous the city is. Be careful. Once Cathán is dealt with, I’ll come back for you.”

  She squeezed his hand and gave him a smile. “You’d better.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A dark fairy, a stolen throne, and a city of thieves. Even better, she had a chance to show Berengar that she was more than capable of looking after herself.

  This is more like it. Morwen couldn’t understand why Berengar was so somber all the time. She had never felt so alive. This was the life of advent
ure she had dreamed of from the time she was a girl. She belonged in the world, not shut up in some castle with her books and potions. True, her studies had suffered of late, but there would be plenty of time for that once they emerged victorious. Besides, as her father often remarked, there was no substitute for experience.

  Lucien anxiously drummed his fingers against the table. “Where is she?”

  Morwen sat with Teelah and the king inside an inn at Kilcullen. She understood Lucien’s concern. Waiting in such a visible place was not without risks. She would have preferred to shelter at the monastery, but Godfrey had warned them that with Valmont in control of the church, the monastery was no longer safe.

  The door opened, and the trio turned their heads in unison as orange autumn light crept into the hall. A group of friends entered the inn, and the door slammed shut behind them. Lucien sank back against his chair and ground his teeth together in annoyance.

  Morwen lowered her voice. “Give her time. Azura will be back soon enough.”

  “I don’t like it. What if they’ve caught her?”

  “She’s not that easily caught. Take it from someone who’s tried.”

  After their arrival at Kilcullen, Azura had gone in search of contacts from her time in the Brotherhood.

  “I don’t see why we can’t just storm the palace and be done with it.” Having discarded his crown and royal finery in favor of nondescript traveler’s clothes, Lucien looked like an ordinary youth, though he kept his cousin’s sword hidden under his cloak.

  “We must secure the cursed blade first. If we tip our hands too early, Valmont could vanish with the blade.”

  In addition to her cloak, Teelah concealed her face behind a scarf. “We must move with caution. The city watch outnumbers our forces twenty to one.”

  Lucien crossed his arms. “The city watch will answer to their king.”

  Morwen shook her head. “It’s not so simple. We don’t know which guards are in the Brotherhood’s pocket. If we go around announcing ourselves, Valmont will have our throats cut before we ever reach the palace.”