by Ben Hale
“That amulet is called The Eye of the Deep.”
Jack leaned in to examine the drawing. Ornate and flowing, the necklace contained a host of diamonds and amethysts, increasing in size until the central stone at the bottom. The black stone dwarfed the others and had been cut in the shape of an iris.
“It appears elven,” Gordon said, “but elves don't use black stones in their jewelry.”
“That's because it's of dark elf origin,” Nemeth said.
Jack wasn't the only one surprised by that, and Beauty beat him to the question. “They don't come to the surface very often. How does one of their necklaces end up here?”
Nemeth's smile turned smug. “Because I stole it from them.”
Jack was forced to raise his opinion of the man. Dark elves were a hard race with a reputation for evil and brutality. Stealing from them required skill and a brazen courage.
“Who has it now?” Ursana asked.
“Lord Horanian plans to give it to his daughter at her birthday celebration tomorrow night. She's turning nineteen and he wanted to give something special before she weds in the spring.”
“Why steal it back?” Jack asked. “It's looks valuable, but such trinkets are rife among the nobles.”
“True,” Nemeth said, “but this particular gem carries a higher value. Ten years ago I discovered a merchant planning to meet with a group of dark elves to trade for their goods. With some effort I managed to join the caravan to meet them. The dark elf leader was a young woman by the name of Val'Trisian. From their conversation I learned she was the daughter of one of the leaders of their race. She wore that around her neck.” He pointed to the drawing again. “When the dark elves returned a month later to trade their goods, I exchanged her necklace for a fake.”
“And now that they've discovered the deception,” Gordon said. “They want the real necklace back.”
Nemeth laughed. “They've contracted me to find the necklace, and have no idea I stole it the first time. I told them I could get it—for a price.”
“So how do we get it?” Gordon asked. “Surely the castle will have defenses difficult to breach, let alone the lord’s strongbox.”
“I have a few favors to call in,” Nemeth said. “And they will get you into the castle. From there you will be on your own.”
“Sounds dangerous,” Beauty said flatly.
“That's the life,” Nemeth said with a shrug. “If you are caught or killed, I'm sure the Guildmaster will send someone else.”
“I prefer a more . . . obvious approach,” Jack said, drawing their attention to him. “Will the birthday celebration for his daughter be on the King’s Overlook above the canyon?”
“Of course,” Nemeth said.
A sly smile spread on Jack's features. “Then we have a party to attend.”
Chapter 20: The Eye of the Deep
Although Beauty urged him to use a persona that would mask his identity, Jack donned his Count Telen persona for the event. He dressed in a regal blue tunic and dark slacks which did nothing to alter his features. The current style of royalty was shorter hair, but he left his long, giving him a rakish look. His appearance drew a great deal of attention from the ladies waiting to enter the party.
Crammed with nobles, the staircase allowed the party attendees to ascend to the King's Overlook through a turret. Guards lined the wide steps, their eyes roving the crowd in search of intruders and weaponry. During the ascent Jack managed to ingratiate himself with a group of single daughters old enough to attend the party. Their bright eyes and revealing clothing drew the gaze of the soldiers, masking his presence until he reached the top of the tower.
He handed his invitation to the crier and the man used an enchanted quill to draw on the paper. The ink faded in seconds, marking it as a real. Mentally Jack praised the quality of Nemeth's forgers, and then stepped into the open.
Jack exited the western turret as his name was shouted to the assembly. The waterfall fell to his left, its icy waters cascading into the darkened abyss below. Enchanted lights glowed behind the water, sparkling and shining on the falls. The effect bathed the overlook in light and added to the illumination from the dimmed lights. Rather than the cheaper orbs, these were stunning entities of every variety.
Jack looked up to see a glowing dragon curled within a cage. Made of pure, flowing light, the creature stretched its wings and began to pace. On the opposite post a mind reaver prowled in a cage like it wanted to hunt. Light entities of such detail were the pinnacle of expense for nobles, and cost a fortune for elven mages to cast. Wrinkling his nose at the excess, Jack strode onto the platform with Beauty's words in mind.
“There is a reason Lord Horanian's parties have never been targeted,” she'd said. “They may be rife with riches, but there is no place to escape. The turrets are filled with a thousand soldiers, and the platform sits two hundred feet above the city.”
With hundreds of lords, counts, and ladies in attendance, it was clear the event wasn't just a birthday, but a celebration of the impending nuptials of Stelora, Lord Horanian's daughter. Jack even spotted a trio of dukes from Terros in attendance.
Dressed in elegant gowns, sparkling jewelry, and gilded shoes, the women commanded attention. Their tinkling laughter wafted across the overlook, mingling with the music from the musicians.
Jack spotted Gordon holding a tray of tiny stuffed shrimp. He'd been less than pleased at the idea of serving the wealthy, and his expression retained a measure of his annoyance. Jack caught his eye and strode to his side to pluck one of the delectables from his plate. Popping it in his mouth, he shook his head.
“Seems a little dry,” he said, sniffing his disdain. “Make certain the chef knows to improve his fair.”
Gordon looked at him with murder in his gaze. “As you order, my Lord.” He inclined his head and departed. Another lord took his place, and gestured to him.
“Well said, Lord . . .”
“Count,” Jack corrected, “Count Telen.”
The man's expression fell somewhat, revealing that he thought Jack’s status lesser. Since counts were placed in charge of a collection of villages they were considered rural lords, at best.
“And you are . . .?”
“Lord Wellis,” he replied, straightening as if the motion would eliminate the bulge in his gut. He failed to match Jack's height, and the tightening of lips indicated he knew it. “Lord of Kelith and the surrounding area.”
“I see,” Jack said, his voice turning conciliatory. “My apologies.”
The man's face turned purple. “My region is filled with mountains, Count. We produce timber, coal, and other ores.”
Jack smirked, inciting the man’s anger until he could barely speak. Unable to speak the man turned on his heel and stalked away. Then Jack spotted Beauty, who bore an expression of disapproval. Threading through the crowd he snagged a glass of fine drink on his way.
“You shouldn't antagonize them,” she said. “They will remember you.”
“Standing beside you will make them forget. You look stunning, by the way.” He gestured to her floor length azure gown. “But I think I prefer you in thief’s garb. It suits you better.”
Her lips twitched, but she managed to suppress the smile. “If you draw too much attention I can’t help much, not without tools or a blade.”
His eyebrow shot up. “You didn't sneak anything in?” Then his gaze dropped and he spotted a slight bulge against the outside of her thigh. “Or just the knife?”
“What did you bring?” she asked.
He shrugged and sipped his drink. “Everything.”
Beauty led him out to the balcony. Then she caught his arm and lifted it, pulling the sleeve back to reveal his shadowhook gauntlet.
“You risk getting caught to bring useless tools?” she hissed. “You're going to get us killed.”
He pulled his arm free. “I like to be prepared.”
She stabbed a finger over the balcony. “It's two hundred feet to the city�
��and nearly a thousand to the bottom of the canyon. A shadowhook will get you nowhere.”
“Perhaps, “Jack allowed, “or perhaps it will save your life.”
She snorted derisively. “I don't need you to save me.”
He shrugged, and then turned when the musicians quieted. The cue subdued the crowd and all eyes turned toward the waterfall. Jack and Beauty exchanged a look and began to work their way forward. Just as they reached the front of the group, the waterfall parted.
A peaked roof extended out of the cliff wall, piercing the waterfall and forcing it to either side. As the water split it revealed an arched doorway with Lord Horanian standing beside his daughter. Then the water curved and merged, coalescing into a bridge that allowed the duo to cross to the King’s Overlook. A magically amplified voice announced their entrance, booming across the platform and rattling glasses on trays.
Jack's disgust deepened as he watched Lord Horanian preen at the attention. Clearly the man had gone to great lengths in order to display his wealth, and had spent a fortune on mages from throughout the world.
“Honored guests,” he called, his voice amplified to fill the breadth of the King's Overlook. “I welcome you to this celebration—both for a birthday, and an engagement with . . .”
Jack tuned him out, bored already. The young man who stepped to Stelora's side could have been any pale elite with a heart of coal. He'd expected the girl to be the same, but her expression was bright and open, her smile genuine. Her skin was a shade darker than her father's, suggesting she spent her time outdoors. Her smile lacked the pretense of her betrothed, and carried an earnestness that would endear her to her people.
She wore her brown hair long and curled, framing her brown eyes nicely, while her gown had been tailored to fit her slim figure. White with silver and gold accents, the dress was regal yet somber. Draped around her neck, The Eye of the Deep drew Jack’s gaze.
“We're here,” Beauty murmured. “Now how do we get close enough?”
“The dance,” Jack replied.
“You can't mean—”
“I do,” Jack said.
“Jack,” she hissed at his back. “By Ero's Staff you are mad . . .”
Jack worked his way through the crowd until he stood close to the pair. Then he waited for Lord Horanian to end his winding speech. Noticing his impatience, the girl glanced his way, curiosity in her eyes.
Jack flashed a disarming grin, causing her to flush. She looked away in an attempt to hide it, but Jack's smile widened. He'd gone fishing with his mother as a child, and her words came back now.
Every fish has its bait.
Lord Horanian finished his speech and clapped his hands, calling for his daughter’s customary first dance as an adult. All eligible men were permitted to dance with the girl, but typically each turn lasted no more than a few seconds. Still, with the number of young men pushing their way forward, it was clear the dance would last some time. As the betrothed, her intended husband danced with her first.
The group cleared back, forming a large circle as the music began. Murmurs of approval and laughter swept across the group, and Jack heard several comments regarding the girl's grace. Other young men hovered on the edge of the circle, several daring each other to be the first. As much as they wanted their turn, they knew that the one to interrupt the betrothed incited a certain measure of ire from both the father and the intended. Stelora’s betrothed glared at the contenders, clearly attempting to intimidate them.
Jack threaded his way to where they would get close to the circle's edge, and elbowed a man in the gut to make room. Taking his place, Jack stepped from the circle and slipped between the dancers, sweeping her away before her betrothed knew what had happened. His bold act drew a scattering of laughter from the crowd, but his attention was on Stelora.
“My father will punish you for that,” she said, worry tightening her features.
“I'm more concerned about you,” he said. “What will your punishment be?”
He lifted and twirled her, eliciting several intakes of breath, including from her. When he brought her down her eyes were wide.
“Are you trying to anger my father?”
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But as I said, I'm more concerned about you.”
“There is no need for concern,” she said.
She dropped her gaze, so he spun her about, forcing her to look at him again. “When a woman such as you looks to the floor, there is always cause for concern.”
“Father says it is the mark of an obedient woman,” she said, a touch of anger in her voice.
“Your father has the wisdom of a pig.”
She missed a step in the dance. “How can you say that—”
“Because he stifled who you are.”
“You have no idea who I am.”
He grinned. “I was wondering how long it would take for your mettle to surface.”
She automatically tried to drop her gaze, but he caught her chin and forced her to look. “One such as you should never lower their gaze to anyone.”
The proximity caused her breathing to accelerate and the crowd to rumble in disapproval. The sound reminded Jack of how long they had been dancing. Several looked at him with daggers in their eyes, but evidently the sheer speed of their dance had held them in check. Now that they had stopped, a figure approached from behind Stelora. Realizing he was out of time, he spun her about one last time.
Throughout the dance his hand had crept to the back of her neck and worked on the clasp. Then his eyes flicked to Gordon and the man slipped a lightstone into the crowd. The burst of light resembled a breaking light orb, and caused men and women to shout and shield their eyes. Jack used the distraction to undo the clasp. It came undone but fell between them. Unable to catch it, Jack pulled her to him, the proximity causing her breath to catch in her throat.
“Remember my words,” he said.
And kissed her.
All sound stuttered to a halt as the onlookers gasped. For an interminable moment they stared at Jack in shock and rage. Jack kept the presence of mind to snag the necklace where it had caught on her dress and pocketed it. Then he stepped back, leaving her teetering on her feet.
He turned and walked away, casting over his shoulder. “She's all yours, friend . . .”
Jack had counted on the shock of the moment to carry him to the turret. Once he was there he could use the shadowhook to slide down the exterior if the guards attempted to stop him. Then he recognized the new dancer and his plan evaporated.
“I find your manners to be lacking, sir . . .”the man said.
Dressed in garish orange, Lord Saris stood before him. For a split second Jack thought the man might not recognize him. Then his face hardened and he virtually spit venom at Jack.
“You!” he snarled. “Do you have any idea how much you cost me?”
Jack couldn't resist the truth. “I hope it was a lot.”
Chapter 21: Shattered Pride
Lord Saris's face burned red and he reached to his waist until he remembered he didn't have a sword. Instead he stepped forward, stabbing a finger into Jack's chest.
“I'll have your body torn apart and tossed to the dogs,” he snarled.
“My lord,” Stelora said, her voice calming. “I'm certain we can resolve this dispute another time.”
He turned on her with a vengeance. “You think this is a dispute? The man's a Skorn-blasted thief.”
Lord Horanian appeared, as did Stelora's betrothed. Both cast glances at the shifting crowd.
“Dear friend,” Horanian said. “Perhaps this is best discussed inside.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” Jack said indignantly. “This man has accosted me without reason. I demand he be reprimanded.”
Saris's eyes nearly burst from his skull and he lunged for Jack, grabbing for his throat like a madman. Jack caught his fingers and retreated, using the moment to gain some space from the lords and Stelora. He glanced toward the turret, gauging the distance.
“Saris,” Lord Horanian snapped. “Have you lost your wits? Control yourself!”
A pair of counts leapt forward and dragged Saris off, and Jack again retreated. He straightened his tunic, a frown on his features.
“Perhaps he’s had too much to drink,” he said. “His taste for such things is well known.”
Saris issued a strangled cry and lunged for him again, clawing at the two men holding him back. Lord Horanian stepped closer to him and bent close. All trace of civility was gone as he snarled into Saris's ear.
“It is my daughter's birthday, and you are making a spectacle.”His eyes flicked to his daughter. “My apologies, my dear. Perhaps you should . . .”
His gaze dropped to her empty neckline, his body going rigid as he registered the necklace was gone. Seeing his reaction, Stelora looked down, instinctively reaching to touch her neck. Then her head snapped to Jack.
Realizing he’d been caught, Jack grinned. “Wonderful party, my Lord.”
Lord Horanian rotated to face him, the sheer menace to his expression causing the crowd to recoil in surprise and fear. Then his roar sent them scurrying back.
“GUARDS!”
Jack bolted toward the musicians’ stand. Women screamed and fell away but two zealous lord's sons stepped into his path. He feinted a strike and they flinched, allowing him to leap over their heads. Rebounding off Lord Horanian's statue, he landed on the opposite side of the crowd and sprinted toward the western turret. He reached the edge of the platform just as guards appeared in the turret door.
Without breaking stride Jack swerved and struck the post holding the dragon light orb. The post snapped at the base and fell toward the charging guards. Then he leapt to the opposite side and did the same to the post holding the mind reaver orb.
The entities were made of light but had clearly been enchanted to think they were real. Both snarled and pounced on the guards, biting and rending with their tiny jaws. Men shouted and they swung their swords, struggling to defend against the creatures.
Jack sprinted toward them but a trio of crossbowmen appeared on the summit of the tower. He skidded to a stop and reversed direction as they took aim. He dodged, weaving through the tables as the bolts crashed into them. He heard one guard cry out, and then another. He glanced back to see the third one fall, bound by enchanted ropes.