The king went quiet, occasionally stealing furtive glances toward the door. “Do you think they’ll rescue him? My cousin, I mean.”
“If anyone can, it’s Warden Berengar.”
Lucien’s voice was soft. “When fits of the kink took me and I could barely breathe from the coughing spells, Tristan stayed up all night at my bedside. I must’ve been five or six. It was the only time I’ve ever seen him pray. Funny I haven’t remembered it before now.” He met Morwen’s eyes. “You were King Mór’s court magician. Were you close to him?”
He was my father. She left the words unsaid. “Aye.”
“I’m sorry about what I said about him earlier—and for calling you a witch. I’m sure you served him well.”
Leaving Cashel to go with Berengar had helped ease the sting of her father’s loss. Morwen couldn’t bear to remain at the castle in the face of constant reminders from the past. In the beginning, she thought of her father every day. Her adventures with Berengar kept her from dwelling on the subject—she found it hard to dwell on much of anything while fighting for her life on a regular basis. She still thought of her father, and he often popped into her head when she least expected it. The pain never went away, but it had dulled as the days went on.
“What’s this?” The friends who entered moments before now loomed over their table with flagons in hand. One inspected Teelah with a leering grin. “I wonder what this one’s got hidden under that scarf.” Encouraged by his friends’ laughter, he reached toward her scarf.
“Touch me and lose the hand.”
“Got a bit of a mouth on you, do you? You should show more respect to your betters, wench.”
“Enough.” Lucien’s anger was palpable. “You heard what she said. Leave her alone.”
The man’s attention moved to him. “Or what, boy? I bet these two girls could take you in a fight.” He looked to his friends for support. “What do you say we teach him a lesson?”
“I say you should move along.” The voice belonged to Azura, who pressed a knife to the man’s back. “Unless you want trouble with the Brotherhood.”
The man whitened a shade, and he turned to find his friends had deserted him. “Forgive me if I have given offense, my lady.” He bowed and mumbled a hasty apology before hurrying away. The Brotherhood was not a name to be taken lightly, especially in the City of Thieves.
A brief look passed between Lucien and Teelah. Morwen fought the urge to chuckle when Azura slid into an empty chair between them, and the pair quickly glanced away from each other. Although Teelah was harder for her to read, Morwen didn’t need to be a magician to recognize the king was taken with her. Teelah was perhaps a few years older, but the two were close in age.
“Took you long enough.” Lucien, who had warmed to many in the company, nevertheless remained wary of Azura, and with good reason. She had turned him into an imp, after all.
“The Brotherhood has eyes and ears everywhere.” Just like that, the anger Azura displayed toward their harassers vanished, replaced by a wide smile. “I missed you too, little one.”
Morwen had grown accustomed to Berengar’s temper, but Azura’s mood was almost impossible to anticipate. At any given moment, she could be thoughtful and wise, playful and mischievous, or irritable and temperamental—sometimes all within the span of minutes.
Maybe fairies really are as volatile as the stories suggest. Unpredictable though she was, Morwen couldn’t help liking her. Azura’s intentions were good, even if she caused more than her share of trouble. Morwen could hardly imagine what harm a fairy less favorably disposed to humanity might wreak. They were lucky Azura was on their side. Morwen certainly wouldn’t want her for an enemy.
“Well?” Lucien didn’t bother hiding his impatience. “What have you learned? Can you get us into the city?”
“That’ll be the easy part.” There was a hint of amusement in Azura’s voice.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
“I’ve had enough of your fairy games. I think you enjoy speaking in riddles.”
Azura smirked. Despite the hearth’s warmth, she kept her hood on to conceal her identity—and her pointy ears. “Although the Acolytes have left the city, the watch, the palace guards, and the Brotherhood remain at Völundr’s disposal.”
Two guards entered the inn and surveyed the hall before approaching the innkeeper. Teelah kept her head down to avoid drawing their attention. “Once we’re beyond the walls, what then?”
“One of my old contacts knows someone who claims he can get us inside the palace for the right price. We’re to meet with him around noon.”
Teelah waited for the guards to leave before speaking again. “What of the others?” The forces they had gathered in the Elderwood remained a safe distance from the city, as there was nowhere in Kilcullen safe to conceal them.
“The sentries will never let them near the city by day. The Rat Gate is the least heavily guarded. We’ll need to move quietly to avoid alerting the rest of the watch. Stealth and cunning are required, which sounds like a task for goblins to me.”
Teelah nodded to acknowledge the compliment. Although the two seemed unlikely to become friends anytime soon, an unspoken understanding had developed between them. “I’ll lead a party over the wall after dark. Once we’ve dispatched the guards, we’ll open the gates to the others.”
“Good,” Morwen finished. “Send word to the others. Tell them to be at the Rat Gate tomorrow night. If all goes well, we’ll enter the palace under cover of dark.”
They waited for Teelah’s return without incident before departing the inn. It was a brisk walk from Kilcullen. Azura insisted they leave their horses behind, though she didn’t say why. Morwen assumed she had either bribed guards or found a secret passage that would get them into the city.
She leaned over and whispered into Azura’s ear. “How exactly are you planning on getting us over the wall?”
Azura flashed a toothy smile. “We’re almost there. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
“I’ve had my fill of fairy surprises,” Lucien muttered under his breath. “Hopefully this one doesn’t involve me growing a tail.” The remark drew a chuckle from Teelah.
The city’s walls loomed ever-larger as they approached. Azura led them to a section of wall far from the nearest gate, where no sentries manned the walls.
Lucien frowned. “I don’t suppose you mean for us to fly over the wall.”
Azura was hardly able to contain her glee. “That’s exactly what I mean for us to do.”
A look of puzzlement replaced his stern expression. “In case you’ve forgotten, unlike you, we don’t have wings.”
“I wasn’t only looking for information earlier.” She reached into her cloak and produced a pouch. “I also wanted to get my hands on this.” Azura opened the pouch to reveal a powdery substance shimmering in the moonlight.
Morwen recognized it at once. “Fairy dust.”
Lucien held up a hand to warn Azura away. “More magic? I’ll have no part in it.”
Azura narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you too frightened of a little magic to save your kingdom?”
The king glowered at her before relenting. “Very well, but this is the last time I let you use magic on me.”
Azura sprinkled fairy dust over Morwen and Lucien, but Teelah—also deeply resistant to the idea of relying on fairy magic—shook her head. “I can scale the wall on my own.”
“As you wish.” Azura spread her wings and hovered just off the ground. “What are you two waiting for?”
“I don’t feel any different,” Morwen started to say but stopped short. A strange, tingling sensation spread from her fingers down to her toes. While she was no stranger to magic, this was something else entirely. Lucien stared at her with eyes wide like saucers, and Morwen realized she was floating several inches above the earth.
Her heart soared within her chest. She lifted her arms and rose higher from the
ground. Below, Lucien tried desperately to cling to the wall but was lifted feet-first into the air by an unseen force. Azura giggled as he clawed at the air like a drowning man before finally stabilizing in midair.
Although Lucien initially appeared frightened when he glanced down at the ground, a change slowly came over his face as he continued hovering in place. “This isn’t so bad.” He spread his arms and shot into the sky, climbing higher and higher. “I am Lucien, master of the skies!” For an instant, he appeared every bit the young boy he was. The moment his feet touched the ground on the other side of the wall, he grew serious once more. “Ahem.”
Once Teelah finished climbing the wall and dropped down beside them, Azura again lowered her hood. “Follow me.”
They made their way in silence through the night. Patrols were everywhere. Morwen drew on her magic stores to enhance her sight and hearing beyond ordinary levels. They were fortunate Azura knew her way around the city from her years in the Brotherhood. Morwen wondered what it must’ve been like for her, living in hiding among humans, unable to reveal her true identity or return home.
They took shelter for the night in an abandoned hovel Azura had used as a hideaway more than once in her time as a thief. Azura opened a creaking door to reveal a secret attic room, and Morwen filed in behind her, brushing away cobwebs in her path. A rat scurried away as Morwen lowered herself to sit on the dusty floor. Moonlight entered through boards covering the windows. Although cramped and lacking physical comforts, the hideaway was ideally situated in a deserted neighborhood in the Warrens, far away from prying eyes.
Soon, Lucien was asleep. Teelah joined him not long after, and only Morwen and Azura remained awake. Morwen wrapped herself in her cloak for warmth and watched the fairy with interest. “Where will you go when all this is over?”
“I’ve lived here these past years, but Dún Aulin is not my home. I’ve had no home since I was cast out of the Otherworld.”
Even in the absence of the bounty on her head, Azura’s life would always be in danger, and not just from monster hunters. Only dragon scales and unicorn horns were rarer and more valuable than fairy blood.
“You could come with us. You’d be safe in our company.”
Azura chuckled. “I don’t imagine your companion would welcome that idea.”
“Don’t let him fool you. Berengar’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“You know him better than I, but I think you might be right.” Her eyes lingered on Morwen’s amulet. “My path leads elsewhere.”
“Do you really think Thane Ramsay is out there?” Everyone in Fál knew the story of Áed’s doom. Morwen, a student of magic and its history, was no exception. Although the tale took many forms depending on the telling, every version ended the same—with the death of the king and all his family, Thane Ramsay included. “If Ramsay had survived Connacht’s fall, don’t you think he would’ve returned to aid Nora in bringing peace to the realms?”
“Little happens in the kingdoms that is not known in Dún Aulin. I’ve spent years here searching for answers, and even after all this time, I’ve found little more than rumors as to his fate.”
“What was he like? Was he really as great as the stories say?”
The mere mention of him seemed to bring Azura happiness. “Ramsay’s light magic was more powerful than that of the mightiest fairy. He was brave, noble, and kind—everything a proper hero should be. You remind me of him sometimes.”
Morwen laughed, struck by the absurdity of the suggestion. “Thane Ramsay was a sorcerer. I’m just a magician, and not a very good one at that.”
Azura’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight, hinting at her true form. “You are mistaken. True, you are not as powerful as some, or as skilled, but your heart is true. Many powerful old wizards spend their years holed away in some tower, too absorbed in their studies into nature’s mysteries to concern themselves with the affairs of others. Lost in their great powers, many sorcerers forget their humanity over the years. You may not be a sorceress, but you have Ramsay’s reckless courage, his compassion, and his willingness to aid those in need.”
Morwen hesitated, lifted the amulet from around her neck, and offered it to Azura. “You should have this. It belonged to him.”
“This is a priceless gift. It is the only thing of him that remains to me.” The amulet glowed with golden light when Azura traced it with her finger. “Try to rest now. You’ll need your strength for the fight ahead.”
Morwen stifled a yawn. “Ravenna was a sorceress, and we handled her well enough. How bad can Valmont be?”
“Völundr is no ordinary fairy. The dark arts have given him power beyond measure. There are few more dangerous creatures in all Fál. Do not let your guard down in his presence, even for a moment.”
Morwen yawned again. She did feel tired. “Tomorrow, then.”
If they could get their forces into the palace unseen, they could depose Valmont and retrieve the cursed blade in one fell swoop. Once Lucien was restored to the throne, the guards and the watch would return their allegiance to the rightful king. Not bad for a day’s work.
“This way.” Azura’s face held none of its characteristic good humor.
Thunder whispered softly above, a promise of storms to come. Bells announced the noon hour from the cathedral. They left the Warrens by way of a dirt path that intersected a paved road in a busy neighborhood. Morwen hurried along, careful to remain close to the others amid the crowds. Muted sunlight provided little reprieve from the frigid breeze. Despite the hour, frost clung to the ground. Morwen looked to the west, where dark clouds gathered over the horizon. Berengar. She hoped he was safe.
Her sense of unease had grown from the moment they set out from the hideaway. Some magicians could glimpse events unfolding elsewhere, or even predict the future. Morwen could sense others’ intentions and anticipate immediate danger—mostly in proportion to the threat—but other impressions were more limited in scope. Still, she had learned to trust her instincts a long time ago, and she couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t right.
She decided to keep her concerns to herself, at least for the time being. The others had more than enough to worry about, and there was no sense troubling them. Like Azura, Lucien and Teelah were grim, and not without cause. Leinster’s fate rested on their shoulders. The companions tried their best to blend into the crowd, but every guard in Dún Aulin was looking for them, and patrols were everywhere. The simmering tension seemed to extend to the city itself. Even with the theft of the cursed blade days in the past, the people remained on edge.
They broke from the multitudes and descended a long stair leading to an older neighborhood in the Grand Square’s shadow. While the area was far from deserted, the streets were much quieter than those above. Mercifully, the guards’ presence was notably diminished, and most people were preoccupied readying themselves for the coming storm.
They followed a bridge across the river to a grand manor. Trees, bushes, and flowers grew in gardens surrounding a centrally placed well in the manor’s secluded courtyard. Banners hanging from the walls waved in the wind. The manor obviously belonged to someone of great wealth, and yet there were no guards in sight.
Lucien glanced around suspiciously. “Is this the place, fairy?”
“Aye.” Once Teelah scaled the wall to keep watch in case of treachery, Azura approached a side door and knocked three times in rapid succession. There was a brief pause, the door opened, and a man greeted them on the other side.
Morwen, recognizing him at once, tried and failed to hide her surprise. “You?” It was Jareth, the bard from the Coin and Crown. “What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same question, Lady Morwen.” Although his manner was as charming as it had been on the stage at the Coin and Crown, up close there was something vaguely predatory about his smile. “Please, come inside.” Jareth stepped away from the door to allow them entry.
Morwen followed the others into a well-fur
nished chamber illuminated by candlelight. “What is this place?”
“This manor and its servants were furnished by my patron, who shall remain anonymous for now. Suffice to say, I am very comfortable here.”
“I’d say. Whoever owns this place must live like a king.”
Jareth ushered them to a round table beside the fire. “No need for those hoods now.”
Morwen hesitated and lowered her hood, and the others did the same. If Jareth recognized Lucien or was surprised to see the king, he hid it well.
Their host poured himself a goblet of wine and settled into a comfortable leather chair. “Tell me, is Warden Berengar here in the city with you?”
Morwen tried her best to keep her face unreadable. “Perhaps. How is it you know me?”
“I am the best bard in Leinster, and quite possibly in Fál. I make it my job to know everything, lass. For every story—every rumor—I am there, listening.” Unlike the tailored clothes and elegant cloak he wore for his performance at the Coin and Crown, Jareth dressed in dull brown and gray garments that seemed out of place given the room’s finery. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it? Because of what I know.”
“That’s right.” Azura sounded cheerful again, though Morwen was almost certain it was an act. “Our mutual friend claims you can get us inside the palace.”
“There are long-forgotten tunnels that lead to the palace dungeons. The monarchs of old used them to come and go unseen. They inspired those used by the Brotherhood of Thieves in the present, though I suspect you’re more familiar with them than I, Azzy—or should I say Azura?” His smile widened. “It’s not often one finds oneself in the company of one of the fair folk.”
To her credit, Azura didn’t flinch. “Can you guide us through these tunnels?”
“I suppose I could—for the right price. The palace isn’t as safe as it once was, from what I hear. It’s said the king has lost his mind. There are rumors that terrible screams come from the towers day and night, and Bishop Valmont has ordered the construction of a great forge in the throne room.”
The City of Thieves Page 27