by Wil Ogden
Pantros didn’t even tell his sister that he had his clothing custom made and the barkeep not only could discern that but Pantros was sure the man was about to tell him why.
“Tight fitting clothes don’t get caught on things like splinters, loose nails or guards’ hands,” The barkeep continued. “Dark means you’re harder to see. Most men in silks wear layers and if they do wear a dark color it is only under a brighter color. Men with wealth want it to be noticed, but you, like most of my customers, do not want to be noticed.”
Again, looking over the taproom, Pantros noticed that every other customer wore dark, tight clothing except for a woman sitting by herself, drinking a glass of wine and wearing a bright green cloak with the hood pulled forward just enough to hide her face above her lips.
“I’m in a thieves’ den?” Pantros asked.
“I figured you came here on purpose,” The man said. “My name is Able. I am the Guildmaster for the Guild.”
“The Thieves’ Guild?” Pantros asked.
“In Fork, we just call it the Guild. We are so much more than a gang of thieves. We never gave it a more specific name.” Able shrugged. “We never had to. It’s just the Guild. I am also Mayor of the city, though I delegate most of that work to a bunch of bureaucrats in the city offices by the palace. Don’t think of the Guild as a group of thieves, think of it as the city’s governing force, with an odd way of enforcing tax collection.”
“And because I’m competition I have to leave this taproom?” Pantros asked. He could understand some distrust, but surely they’d understand there was nothing for him to steal in such a place.
“Because you’re potential competition, you have to leave the city,” Able said. “We have very strict rules, and since we run the town, those rules are like laws, and there is no place for you here.”
“I couldn’t join your Guild?” Pantros asked.
“You’d have to pass a test, and if your reputation is remotely accurate, any test I could give you that would provide any challenge would be like stealing the ruby from the king’s crown.” Able took the two silver and slid them back to Pantros. “You’re too talented for our very strict rules. You’d never be able to pad your pockets like you could in other cities by those rules. You don’t want to be here.”
“It’s not that you don’t want me around personally, but if anything gets stolen outside of your rules, you want one less suspect?” Pantros guessed. He couldn’t imagine why else someone so polite would be inhospitable.
“That and if I let you in the guild, your god-like reputation would undermine my authority,” Able said. “You can stay for a couple days, but don’t take up residence here, please.”
“I have one question before I go,” Pantros said. “The woman in the green cloak, where did she get wine when all you serve is the one kind of beer?”
“She’s exactly the person you don’t want to be curious about,” Able said. “Let’s just say she holds enough sway in this town that I keep a case of a particular vintage on hand just for her and that she drinks for free. She usually drinks alone and when she does drink with someone else, it bodes ill for someone. If you’ve not heard of the Green Death, you have now.”
Pantros recalled a story somewhere in Sheillene’s repertoire about a killer-for-hire who wore a green velvet cloak. The story ended badly for several of its characters. He decided it would be a good time to leave The Three Diamonds. “I’ll see myself out then.” He didn’t feel he’d been threatened, but being in the presence of such a legendary monster and having antagonized the Guild just by his existence, his plan was to leave town as soon as possible.
Approaching the Rampant Gelding, he was reminded why he’d left. The music was hypnotizing and Pantros didn’t like the time he’d lost his awareness to Sheillene’s music. The music was fine, just not something he was in the mood for. He only had a limited time in Fork, so he decided he’d learn as much about it as he could.
§
Three hours of walking along thoroughfares and peering into the taproom of one tavern after another led Pantros to the part of the city he was most curious about: The Pit. Though it was long after sunset, the sounds of haggling filled the dense air. His senses had cleared and he wouldn’t be making the mistake again of missing details like he had at the Three Diamonds.
Around The Pit, he noticed dozens of children selling ribbons like the one David had given him. He also noticed that the rare person who walked past a ribbon seller without a ribbon on their purse, would, within a few paces, have a small hand dart in and out of their purse.
The rumors that anything and everything was for sale in the pit appeared to be true. He’d passed by people selling everything from dried meat to a small caged dragon. The dragon’s price was dozens of times the price Pantros had paid for his stewardship.
When he passed by the display case of a jeweler, what he saw brought him to a stop. Inside the case was a pair of royal crowns with a sign saying, “Jeweler to the Kings.” A woman behind the case was sketching on a small easel.
“Are these the current king and queen’s crowns?” Pantros asked.
“They’re the mock-ups I made before the final version. The gold is just plated and the gems are glass in case you’re thinking they’re worth what they appear to be worth. Not worth stealing at all.” The woman said.
“Does everyone know how to spot a thief in this town?” Pantros asked.
“The Guild trains the merchants,” The woman said. “We’re offered a nice reward to turn in non-guild thieves.”
“You can tell I’m not Guild?” he asked.
“Only because you asked a question every Guild thief wouldn’t need to ask,” the woman said.
“I’m not here to steal anything,” Pantros said. “I’m actually thinking of buying something.” He hadn’t been thinking it long. But a plan was formulating in his head and, though he considered it a bad idea, decided to see how far he could take it before it presented any actual risk. “Would you be able to cut another piece of glass like the one on top of the King’s crown you have here?”
The woman nodded. “It would take me a few hours.”
“So if you sold me the one that’s there, you’d be able to replace it without too much effort?” Pantros asked.
“Probably, but don’t think that doesn’t mean it will be cheap,” The woman said. “I’ve been trained by both Matderi and Abvi. My skill calls for quite the premium wage.
Pantros set five gold coins on the counter. “I expected as much.”
The jeweler’s eyes brightened at the sight of the gold. By her reaction, Pantros could tell he’d offered far too much.
§
The sun was rising by the time Pantros returned to the Rampant Gelding. The knight’s carriage sat in the street in front of the Inn. Marc was loading his guitar and Sheillene’s pack and waved to him.
“We figured you would be out,” the giant said. “Estephan is inside; he wanted to talk to us when you got here.”
The prince’s presence made Pantros only slightly nervous. He resisted the urge to check on the two gems tucked under his shirt. There was no way he’d been caught.
Inside Estephan sat at the end of a large table. David and Meredith sat to his left. Sheillene, Thomas and Tara all sat close as well. Otherwise the taproom was completely empty. Marc and Pantros took seats and then Estephan stood.
“My father is dying,” He said. Pantros, like everyone else at the table, started to voice his condolences, but Estephan silenced them with a gesture and continued. “I have to stay here and attend him, but I need a message taken to my brother in Melnith. He’s serving as an Ambassador, but he is two years older than me, which means when my father dies, my brother Reginald will be King. I’m giving you my carriage for the journey.”
“You want us to tell your brother?” Pantros asked.
“No, that would be asking too much. I am simply asking you to deliver a letter to him.” Estephan pushed a folded piece of parchment
towards Sheillene. The letter had a wax bead on it bearing arms, probably those of the kingdom. “Lady Sheillene, I charge you with this missive,” he said.
“Yes, Highness. It’ll get there as fast as I can,” Sheillene said. “Do you have fresh horses stationed along the Abvian Highway?”
“No,” Estephan said. “I’m sending extra gold with the drivers. They’re going to try to trade for fresh horses when they can. Pantros, I’m charging you with securing the gold. You seem to be an expert in that area.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Pantros was already regretting his early morning job, but he didn’t know how to undo it. Clearly, he wouldn’t have time get to the palace and back and even if he could, there would be more people in the great hall at this time of day. He pondered handing the ruby to Estephan, but knew that it was not the time for it, if there ever was a time for it, which he doubted.
“I’m going with them,” David said.
“I won’t order you to,” the prince said. “But, you don’t have another cycle at the Abandoned Arch for three seasons, so you are free to go where you will. Your leg is better?”
“I know one of the Tempests by the south docks, they aided the healing a little,” David said. “I could dance, well, if I could dance.”
“I’ve seen him try,” Meredith said. “A one-legged minotaur would have more grace.”
“It’s time I returned to the palace,” the prince said. “Your carriage should be ready for you to be on your way as well.”
CHAPTER 18: LADY GLACIA
Lady Glacia stood on her private balcony overlooking her holding in Demia. The cool breeze off her ice caves kept her palace comfortable. The only ice in Demia and it was hers. To her, it was what made her territories so special. Others, with ambitions, wanted it because it bordered directly on the lands of the King of Demia.
By concentrating a little, Glacia could focus her eyes on the distant lands, several leagues away. She set so many plans in motion every day, usually for her own amusement. The Murdread plans were finally coming to their ultimate fruition. Far away, at the gates to the King’s Palace, a very small army bearing Murdread’s sigil was pushing through a weak defense. The gates had already fallen and in the courtyard, pockets of defenders were struggling in vain.
A small demon glided down onto her balcony. Refocusing to her immediate surroundings, she held out her hand and summoned her icicle staff. It materialized in her hand with its point already barely penetrating the new arrival’s throat.
“You are not as wise as I believed, Kirvel,” she said, glancing at him then focusing her sight back on the battle in the distance. She left her staff in the demon’s throat, letting it draw a small trickle of blood.
“As you predicted Osris is not reacting to the incursion on his land,” Kirvel said in a strained voice, as if he were being careful not to move his throat. His fear of her would keep him from backing away from the staff. Fear had its uses.
“Those are my guards down there in Osris’s tabards.” Glacia said. “Is their performance believable?”
“I wouldn’t have guessed. Murdread has no reason to suspect the battle is anything other than it appears,” Kirvel replied. Glacia pulled her staff away, but kept it with her. “Why are your guards defending the King’s lands?”
“Because the King seems to have lost interest,” Glacia said. “His days are numbered, but I am retaining control over exactly what that number is. His entire staff, from his guards to the imps that handle his waste, is under my influence. I am awaiting a suitable replacement. So far, the candidates here are not pleasing to me.”
“But, you let Murdread into the King’s Palace,” Kirvel said. “Surely you are not going to let him take control.”
“No,” Glacia said. “But that’s where your knowledge of my plans ends. Thank you for your service. You will be rewarded when this has played to fruition. Be gone!” She pointed her staff back towards Kirvel, sure to hold the bloodied tip before his eyes. She didn’t even watch as he flew away, keeping her sight on the King’s courtyard. That courtyard was as far as her guards would let Murdread penetrate the palace. The gate was in that courtyard, which is what Murdread was after. Still, he hadn’t yet acquired the Key. She considered how involved she wanted to be to see that he did get the Key.
Once Murdread opened the gate to Mealth, he would no longer be a nuisance to her, but the timing had to be just right.
CHAPTER 19: CHARLES
Two Unicorns stood outside the Gypsy’s camp. Both had white coats and golden horns. The larger one’s mane and tail-tip were blue while the smaller one’s were pink. Charles stood beside them, along with Jonah.
“The colors are dyed,” Jonah said. “It helps them tell each other apart. Otherwise all Unicorns are as white as new snow and have the same golden horn, though their eyes vary from azure to blue.” The smile on Jonah’s face told Charles that last part was some kind of joke.
Until a moment before, Charles had thought Silon and Chelle to be human, just like the rest of the Gypsies. They’d invited him to join them outside the camp. When he’d arrived they’d introduced themselves then promptly shifted forms. It hadn’t been a shift so much as an instantaneous replacement. There wasn’t even a flash, just a slight whoosh sound as the air was forced to change shape around the Unicorns. The Unicorns themselves were not what Charles had expected either. Their long legs could almost make them look like horses from a hundred paces away on a foggy day after half a dozen drinks, but up close they looked nothing like horses as the legends described them. Their heads were wider than a horse, though they narrowed more at the nose and mouth than a horse. Their manes were more like a lion’s mane than a horse's and their tails were distinctly leonine. Their legs were thicker than a horse's and ended in tufted cloven hooves. The tufts were dyed on the smaller Unicorn but not the larger. It was also very clear that the larger of the two was male.
“They can’t speak?” Charles asked.
“They can make noise,” Jonah said. The Unicorns bleated then growled. Silon, the larger one, then roared. “They communicate mostly by body language. You hang around them long enough and you’ll be able to understand them as if they could talk.”
“Are they the only Unicorns among the Gypsies?” Charles asked.
“We have about a dozen,” Jonah said. “Unicorns are hunted for their horns, which are both highly magical and pure solid gold. They don’t take their natural forms often unless they know they are secluded and safe. Silon and his daughter are willing to risk it here, to help you change to your true form.”
“I’m supposed to turn into a Unicorn, here? Today?” Charles asked. “The ring is supposed to help with that, right?
“So the Queen says,” Jonah said. “Let’s see, how should we start?”
Silon grunted and moved his head back and forth.
“That’s as good a plan as any, I guess,” Jonah said. “Charles, why don’t you just imagine yourself as a Unicorn?”
“I’ve been doing that since they changed,” Charles said. He had. He’d been wondering what it would be like if it were true. How would it feel to be so big and to not have hands and not be able to speak?
“Concentrate on the image,” Jonah said.
He did, nothing happened.
Chelle bleated and pointed her horn at Charles’s ring.
“Now do it while touching the ring,” Jonah said.
“I don’t have to chant, ‘I am Kehet’ and spin around three times?” Charles asked, and then chuckled at his own joke. No one else laughed but Jonah smiled weakly. Maybe the Unicorns were smiling. Charles couldn’t tell.
“Just touch the ring and imagine yourself changing into a Unicorn.” Jonah stepped back, giving Charles room.
Charles hadn’t actually imagined the change before, just the being a Unicorn. When he touched the ring with his other hand and imagined the change, he changed.
“Ack!” he tried to scream. It came out as a roar.
“I gue
ss that confirms it,” Jonah said.
“Confirms what?” Charles tried to ask, but only bleats came out. His body must have betrayed his question, though because Jonah’s next words answered him.
“You look just like Kehet and we never told you what he looked like,” Jonah said.
Charles bent his neck around, though he couldn’t focus on this mane, he could tell it was a royal purple, as was the tip of his tail. He also couldn’t see his horn. His eyes gave him a very binocular vision, barely overlapping.
“Your horn is here,” Jonah said, touching his finger to the tip, just above the center of Charles’s vision. Charles could feel the finger touch his horn. He wouldn’t have expected being able to feel through metal. Jonah then explained, “Also your horn is silver, and Kehet is the only Unicorn with a silver horn.”
“So I am Kehet,” Charles bleated, sounding nothing like the words he was trying to say.
“Remember you can’t talk,” Jonah said. “Your body will speak for you if you let it. By trying to talk, you’re actually impeding your ability to communicate.”
Silon grunted and tossed his head to the side, pointing his horn to the woods. Chelle snorted and nodded slightly.
“Time to run,” Jonah said. “Follow them.”
Before Charles could ask anything, Silon took off with Chelle just behind him. Charles ran after. His body knew how to move and it felt natural to run. He kept his focus on the Unicorns ahead of him, not wanting to lose them in the woods. Then he noticed how fast he was travelling. The woods blurred through his vision, barely recognizable as individual trees.
They ran for an hour, until Silon brought them to a stop. Charles knew the spot. It was where Heather had found him. In the distance he could see the edge of the crater that used to be Blackstone
“How did you know?” Charles asked, forgetting he couldn’t speak. The words came out as bleats and slight growl.