by Ben Hale
Pointing his shadowhook high, Jack sent a thread into the dark turret. He swung across the emptiness and ascended to the level above the thief. Then he crept forward and eased himself over the edge until he looked down upon the reader. The glass peak of the turret extended above the mist, allowing the moonlight to filter into the library. Jack’s patience was rewarded when the person glanced upward.
It was Beauty, but not as he knew her. Her features were open and laced with regret. She'd untied her black hair, allowing it to hang free down her back. Then she returned her attention to the book and turned the page.
Curious, Jack eased himself forward and peered at the text. The book was a record from three years ago, when a girl named Erela had interfered with several guild assignments. An invitation had been issued—and declined. The girl had not heeded the warning to avoid the guild, and shortly afterward she stole a contract from a guild thief. The Guildmaster had ordered her to be punished as an example, and the girl had died in the streets of Herosian at just fourteen.
“Was she your sister?” Jack asked.
Beauty nearly jumped from her skin. Then she rose and spun, her eyes scanning the shadows until she spotted him. Jack smirked and swung down to stand beside her.
“Jack,” she hissed. “I swear I'm going to kill you.”
She yanked her hair into the tight fall she always wore in the guild, the motion so furious it made him realize he'd seen her at a vulnerable moment.
“Who was Erela?” Jack whispered.
Beauty clenched a fist and faced him, closing the gap until he could practically feel her eyes burning his flesh.
“You speak that name to anyone and I will flay your skin from your bones, do you understand me?” She spun and started away.
“Did they kill her?”
She came to a halt and rotated to face him. “I'm in no mood for your sarcasm, Jack.”
“No sarcasm intended,” he said. “I'm just curious.”
“You expect me to trust you?”
“I'll just read it when you're gone.”
Her jaw tightened and she growled. “She was my sister,” she bit the words off. “Now will you leave it alone?”
“No.”
“How can one man be so infuriating?” she hissed at him.
Normally he would have smiled, but in her eyes he recognized the pain he hid within himself.
“Why are you truly here?” he asked.
She closed the distance and a dagger appeared in her hand. “You ask dangerous questions, Jack.”
Jack didn't retreat from the blade at his heart. “Why are you here?” he repeated quietly.
She held his gaze but shook her head. “It's not a truth I would share with you.”
“Your sister isn't the only one the guild has killed,” he said.
The dagger lowered and Beauty stared at him, curiosity mingling with the distrust in her eyes. “What do you know about it?”
“Morissa,” Jack said, cracking the dam that he had guarded for so long. “And they killed her too.”
She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. “Sister?”
“Doesn't matter,” Jack said. “What matters is we are both here for the same purpose.”
“Who killed her?”
“Kuraltus and Nemeth,” Jack said. “You?”
Her lips tightened grimly. “They are already dead. Now I want the one who ordered it.”
“The Guildmaster?”
“Maybe,” she said. “But the records do not contain everything.”
Jack saw an opportunity and took it. “Perhaps you can get answers from a retired thief.”
“Nemeth,” she said flatly.
“I want to kill him, and you want answers. If you manage to get us assigned to a contract near him, perhaps we can both get what we seek.”
“We don’t have a guildhall in that region, so we frequently get assignments coming from him.”
Jack read the disgust on her features, reminding him of Forlana’s response. “Why do so many dislike him?”
“You'll see when you meet him.”
“Is that your agreement?”
She regarded him for several seconds. “Your plan has merit. I'll see what I can do.”
“Be cautious,” he said. “If they know Erela had a sister named Thera, they'll kill you.”
Her eyebrows shot up at his use of her real name. “Where did you learn my name?”
“The archives contain a great deal.”
“Reading up on me?”
“Your first attempt on the Machine was well documented,” he replied easily. “I guess you made an impression.”
She grunted and shook her head. “If they knew, I'd be dead already. What about you? Who was Morissa?”
A creak caused them to draw back into the shadows and she extinguished her lightstone. A moment later a door swung open and a guard strode into the turret. Closing his eyes, Jack tracked him by the sound of his footfalls.
The guard ambled up and down a flight of stairs but didn't bother to search the entire turret. Several minutes after entering he returned to his post and the door swung shut. When it was clear he would not return, Beauty reactivated the lightstone.
The moment of tension had broken the tenuous kinship, and she looked at him as she had the first time they met.
“I still don't trust you, Jack.”
He grinned in the darkness. “The feeling is mutual.”
They regarded each other in the dim light. Then she sighed. “Don't come in here too often,” she said. “The Guildmaster likes to visit at night.”
The warning was a gift, a piece of information that signaled a change in their status as foes. He decided to return the favor.
“The Guildmaster has magic of his own,” he said. “When he invited me to duel, he moved faster than a normal man.”
“It's not body magic,” she said. “If it was, I would have seen it. And you? What magic do you possess?”
“You’ll have to be much closer to learn that,” he said, and glided to her.
She grunted in annoyance and retreated. “Good night, Jack. I have what I need, so you won't find me here again.”
“A pity,” he said.
She shook her head in exasperation and slipped away, disappearing into the turret so completely he could not track where she'd gone. He remained in place for some time, mulling over his choice to share his purpose.
In his gut he knew Thera would not speak his secret—and not just because he knew the truth about her. She wanted to punish her sister’s killer, and now she saw Jack the same way he saw her.
As an ally.
Unwilling to betray more about his mother, he avoided reading about her in case Beauty was watching. Instead he retreated to the records on Nemeth and settled in to read. He found little besides the fact that he'd once been a class-three thief until a chronic injury had forced him to retire. The Guildmaster had released him from the guild, and the man had become a smuggler operating in the eastern part of Terros.
Once he had what he needed, Jack departed the hall and returned to his room. As he lay awake, his thoughts were drawn to a street thief he'd met in Herosian several years ago. She had taught him several aspects of being a thief, and in turn he'd kept her from being caught by the guards. Their relationship had been one of convenience, and within a year she'd simply departed without a word. Would his relationship with Beauty be as fleeting?
He fell asleep with Beauty on his mind, wondering what he could accomplish with her as an ally. Could she discover why the men had been sent to kill his mother? Did it have to do with the Guildmaster? The man was obviously a foe, but was he Jack’s foe? As much as we wanted them, the answers did not come before sleep claimed him. That night he dreamed of the night his mother had been killed.
He awoke to find the Guildmaster sitting in his room.
Chapter 14: The Assassin Assignment
Jack rubbed his eyes and then noticed the man sitting by the fire.
Feigning nonchalance, Jack rose to his feet and plodded to the water basin. He rubbed water on his face, taking the time to compose himself. Then he sank into the chair across from the Guildmaster and stifled a yawn.
“It's unkind to walk into a man's house without knocking.”
The Guildmaster smirked at the comment. “You have your second assignment.”
“Do you always deliver assignments personally?” Jack asked. “Or just to those who lock their doors?”
“Just when I'm curious about the thieves in my employ,” the Guildmaster replied. “And when the item to be stolen is this valuable.”
Jack perked up at that. “Why not send a veteran?”
“This particular item resides within the assassin's guild,” he said. “And the seven assassins—especially their leader, Gallow—make a point of knowing the thieves in our ranks. Gallow may be the youngest, but he's by far the most dangerous.”
“A friend?”
“A colleague,” the Guildmaster said. “One that does not want to give up the item.”
“A thief to steal from an assassin,” Jack mused. “Sounds dangerous.”
“That's why I'm sending Ursana and Gordon with you,” the Guildmaster replied. “And since you are a class three, you will lead the party.”
“When?”
“After your morning meal.”
“And the item?”
“A weapon,” he said, and handed him a slip of parchment containing two names and a drawing of a blade. “As assassins, they value such items over jewels or gold. This particular blade is a horrending dagger.”
Jack's eyebrows shot up. A horrending dagger was a blade enchanted to steal the magic of a mage. Only a handful were known to exist, and all were kept under lock and guard. Mages everywhere were taught early to fear such weapons.
“Planning on taking someone's magic?”
“You know the rules, Jack,” the Guildmaster chided. “Never ask questions about the assignment. We steal by trade, but we are not without honor, or discretion.”
Something about the Guildmaster's behavior put Jack on edge, as if he were withholding the truth. Ultimately he recognized he had no choice and inclined his head.
“I'll gather the others.”
“Watch yourself, Jack,” the Guildmaster said, the firelight from the hearth casting shadows across his face. “The assassin’s guild contains the greatest killers of the known world.”
With that the Guildmaster departed. Jack watched the door shut with a mounting sense of dread. His thoughts turned to Beauty. Had she lied to him? Had she betrayed him?
He discarded the doubts and changed for the journey. She had little to gain from the action and everything to lose. Donning his thieves’ harness, he strapped his tools and weapons in and then wrapped the shaden over his shoulders. Just as he stepped to the door he recalled the dwarf's words.
The Guildmaster has a way with manipulation.
He exited and strode to the meal chamber. The hour was earlier than he'd expected, with only a handful of men and women awake. He'd hoped to speak to Beauty before he departed, but he did not see her. Draining the last of his char, he exited the meal hall and walked the corridor to Iron Hall.
Iron Hall represented a stark contrast to Ember Hall and although larger, it felt cramped. Twin fires crackled in hearths on the two ends, the couches before them worn and threadbare. Pillars rose to the ceiling but served no other purpose, their surfaces smooth and blackened from centuries of dust.
A chandelier hung from the ceiling with thousands of light orbs. Most of the enchanted spheres had gone dark and had not been replaced. The resulting light cast the hall into shadow, making it appear dingy.
Corridors branched off from the hall leading to hundreds of private quarters, most of which were designed to accommodate two thieves. Training rooms and smaller meal halls dominated the second and third floors that surrounded the chamber.
Even with the early hour a dozen thieves were awake. Jack scanned for Gordon and Ursana but did not see them. He turned and ascended a spiral staircase cut into the wall next to a hearth and strode to the training chambers first. There he found Ursana in a room filled with enchanted traps. He opened the door and stepped in.
“We have an assignment,” Jack said.
The girl continued to thread a golden needle into a sphere of blue, reaching for the trigger that would disarm the trap. With deft fingers she disarmed the trap and the blue sphere faded.
“When?” she asked, and finally turned to face him.
“Now,” Jack said. “Meet outside after your morning meal.”
“I already ate.”
“Then gather your things.”
“I'm ready now.”
Jack frowned at her dismissive tone. “Then go to the north exit. I'll find Gordon and meet you there.”
“As you order.”
She turned away as he left. Once in the hall, he glanced through the crack to see she had returned to her work, this time working on a small chest guarded by a gargoyle. She paused to stroke its head, causing it to preen and sit back on its haunches. Striding away, he sought Gordon in the meal hall. When he didn't find him there, he queried a few thieves and was directed to the man's room.
No one responded to the knock. Jack withdrew his lockpicks and worked the lock until it gave with a soft click. Then he caught the handle—and yanked his hand back when it singed his fingers.
“A fire trap?” Jack growled. “Is that necessary?”
To his surprise a muffled voice answered through the door. “Of course.”
Jack heard the yawn in the man's voice and his irritation mounted. Jack sucked on his burned fingers and slammed his other fist on the door.
“We have an assignment.” He said. “Meet me at the north exit as soon as you've eaten.”
There was a grunt of acknowledgment and then silence. Jack stood in the hall frustrated and embarrassed. He'd always preferred solitude, and being forced into a position where he had to lead others left him uncomfortable and uncertain. After their assignment with the Amazons he’d thought he’d gained their respect, but perhaps it was Forlana that had gained their respect.
Wending his way through Iron Hall, he crossed in front of the fire and entered a north corridor. When he arrived at the north exit, he found Ursana tinkering with her large crossbow. She did not look up at his appearance.
Jack leaned against the wall and looked out over the fog. Apparently content with the silence, Ursana continued to adjust the knobs on her weapon before drawing a dagger and setting to sharpen it. The sound of her whetstone scraping across the steel of her blade echoed harshly in the alcove until Jack thought he would burst. Then the door swung open and Gordon appeared.
“I hope you're having a pleasant morning,” he said, his voice distorted by a yawn.
“It's a wonder you woke up to join us,” Jack snapped. He yanked the lever that raised the bridge and stepped onto it as soon as it appeared.
“What's our assignment?” Ursana asked.
“We're stealing a horrending dagger in the assassin's guild.”
The easy smile on Gordon's expression evaporated. “We're stealing from the assassins? On our second assignment?”
Jack shrugged and stepped into the Evermist, pulling the lever to lower the bridge. “They're a target like any other.”
“Are you mad?” Gordon growled. “The assassins are as lethal as rock trolls—even more so.”
“There are only seven,” Ursana said as if she were commenting on the time.
Gordon muttered under his breath and Jack half expected the man to turn and walk away. Instead he fell into the rear of their group and did not speak again. Chafing at the pace, Jack did his best to control his annoyance as they wound their way through the bog.
Three days after leaving the guildhall they reached Talinor. Renting horses from a stable, they picked up the pace. Forlana had made it clear that petty crimes did nothing except invite attention, so Jack resist
ed the urge to empty their strongbox when the stablemaster went to prepare the mounts.
For the next three weeks they worked their way to Terros. The Sea of Grass gave way to the dark forest of Orláknia, the ancient home of the elves. The elven migration had deprived the forest of the sustaining magic it had grown to depend on. Twisted and dank, the forest was as depressing as it was eerie. Jack breathed a quiet sigh of relief when they exited the wood and entered Griffin. From there it was only a few days to Terros.
Throughout the journey Ursana and Gordon spoke little. Several times Jack wondered how to turn them into allies, but without Forlana it seemed they were as disparate as ever. By the time they entered Terros all of them were irritable and worn. Instead of leading them to meet the Terros master, Jack stopped at an inn near the eastern gates.
“I think we deserve a rest,” he said.
“The Guildmaster will not be pleased at the delay,” Gordon said.
“The Guildmaster can eat his pleasure for breakfast,” Ursana said acidly. “I want a bath.”
In spite of the distance between them, Jack and Gordon exchanged a grin.
“It's your head to lose,” Gordon said to Jack.
Jack stepped inside and paid for a trio of rooms. As a rule, Jack avoided hard physical labor, and the journey from the guildhall to Terros had been enough for a year. Skipping dinner, he entered his room and pulled his shirt off before sinking onto the bed. A smile crossed his lips as slumber took him.
Loath to leave the room, he slept well into the morning, and only woke when Gordon's meaty fist slammed on the door. Jack groaned and lifted his head to find the sun shining into the room. Reluctantly he sat up and shouted at the door.
“It's open.”
Gordon and Ursana entered. The irritation on Gordon's face shifted to humor when he saw Jack still in bed.
“And I thought I liked to sleep.”
“Everyone likes to sleep,” Jack said.
Gordon laughed, but Ursana shook her head. “I don’t.”
“Nightmares still bothering you, little girl?” Jack asked.
Ursana flushed crimson and swept from the room. In her absence Gordon turned on him. “You should not goad her.”