01- Jack of Thieves

by Ben Hale

  “And you were sent in her place?”

  He sneered at the condemnation in his tone. “Six years ago I learned she was hiding outside a druid village,” he said. “So I gathered some mercenaries and went to collect. When we got there she claimed she didn't have it.”

  “And you killed her.”

  “She killed us,” Kuraltus snapped back, regaining some of his composure. “She killed seven of our number, and an eighth died from his injuries within a week.”

  “But why?” Jack asked. “Why did she keep it?”

  “Her secret died with her,” Kuraltus said.

  He shifted toward the map but Jack snapped his crossbow out and thumbed the rune for a piercing bolt. Then he sent it driving through the elf's foot into the stone below. Kuraltus screamed, cursing Jack as he fell.

  “Do you think to escape me?” Jack asked, his voice dangerously soft. “I’ve thought of killing you for years, and I will not be denied.”

  “Jack,” Beauty hissed. “Do you hear that?”

  Jack didn't turn but in the distance he heard a shout, followed by another. Lorelia began to curse in elvish.

  “The vintor must have alerted them to our presence,” Lorelia said. “We must go.”

  “I'm not leaving,” Jack said. “Not until I kill him.”

  “Not yet,” Beauty said and bent down to Kuraltus. The elf sat on the floor, his expression twisted in pain. “Who is the Guildmaster?”

  “I don't know,” he snarled. “No one knows his name.”

  Jack recalled the Seeker's words. Or they don't remember. Perhaps Kuraltus didn't know now, but he'd known before. He caught the map and thrust it in the elf's face, stabbing a finger at his mother's warning.

  “Is his name Orn?”

  The elf cursed at him. “Do you not have ears? I told you I don't know if his name is Orn or . . .”His eyes tightened and he blinked in confusion.

  Beauty leaned in. “What was that?” she asked. “What did you just remember?”

  The sounds of shouting grew in the distance, echoing in the corridor that led to the Hall of Records. Lorelia shifted her feet and growled, but remained in place.

  “Jack . . .”Lorelia began.

  “No,” Jack said. He grabbed the elf's tunic and lifted him off the floor. “Tell us.”

  The elf's expression was twisted in pain, but now confusion as well. “I remember hearing that name,” he said, “but I can't recall where.”

  “In the guild?” Beauty asked.

  “Yes,” Kuraltus said, and then he shook his head, his vision clearing. “It's him. The blasted thief took the memory.” Then his expression widened with shock. “He used a purple dagger to change me. He robbed me of myself.”

  Rage flitted across the elf's face, and then surprisingly grief. Jack guessed he now remembered carrying out the Guildmaster's will, unaware of his own identity.

  “Do you know anything about a girl named Erela?” Beauty asked. “Anything about why the Guildmaster ordered her death.”

  “Who?” Kuraltus asked.

  His face was drawn and twisted in a pain that did not come from his wounds. He fought to breath and placed a hand on his head, wiping the sudden sheen of sweat from his face. Words tumbled from his mouth but few were intelligible.

  “He’s useless,” Jack said in disgust.

  “Jack . . .”Lorelia said in a rising tone.

  The sounds of elven guards clamored from the entrance tunnel, and lights began to brighten in the Hall of Records. The shadows dissipated, leaving the three of them exposed. Only the mass of trees kept them from being spotted.

  “They'll be here any moment,” Lorelia said, her voice urgent. “We must go! We can slip out while they search the chamber.”

  Jack ignored them, and once more bent to the pinned elf. “I should kill you,” he said, “but instead I'm going to leave you here.”

  “They will execute me,” Kuraltus said.

  Jack rose to his feet. “I know.”

  “What about that?” Beauty asked, and gestured to the map in his hand.

  He held it up to his eyes and shook his head. “I'm not about to let the Guildmaster have it.”

  Turning, he hurled it down the hall, where it struck one of the vines of the vintor. It pulled it into its grasp and tightening around it. The ancient map endured the crushing embrace, and for a moment Jack thought it would survive. Then a crack appeared, and another. Then abruptly it snapped in two with a burst of sparks. In seconds it was torn asunder.

  Jack gave a satisfied nod and then looked down at Kuraltus. “I would wish you luck,” he said. “But you've earned your fate.”

  The elf's expression surprisingly turned to one of horror. “You must find a healer. Before it's too late.”

  Confused by the comment, Jack stared at him—and then noticed the numbness in his leg. He looked down, his eyes widening at the streak of green seeping from the shallow wound from the vintor. Then he noticed that everywhere the vintor had cut him felt numb. Kuraltus began shouting as the thudding of hundreds of boots flooded the Hall of Records.

  “Go! You must go!”

  “You knew it was poisoned?”Jack growled.

  “Of course,” Kuraltus said, and he grimaced with regret and pain. “But the Guildmaster thought you were worth the sacrifice for the map.”

  Jack took a step forward but Beauty caught his arm, forcing him to look at her. “If we don't go now, we don't go,” she hissed.

  With Kuraltus urging him to flee, Jack turned and sprinted away. Beauty and Lorelia joined him and they raced away from the searching guards. Jack felt a stab of rage at Kuraltus for keeping them so long.

  He cast a look back at the elf leaning against the wall. Kuraltus grasped his stomach as if he couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed down the elf’s features, mingling with the blood seeping from his boot. He made no effort to flee, and indeed seemed incapable of trying.

  “What do we do?” Beauty asked, drawing his attention from the disturbing sight.

  “They've closed off the entrance,” Lorelia said as they pushed deeper into the cavern. “How do we get out?”

  Fighting the creeping numbness, Jack growled under his breath and cast about for a solution. His gaze fell upon the thousands of trees holding the memory orbs and an idea crossed his mind.

  “This,” he said, and snapped a branch from a tree.

  The tree awoke with a violent shudder, the wooden fingers wrapping around the memory orbs to protect them as it flailed and struck the floor with such force that Jack felt it all the way to his teeth.

  Lorelia began to laugh as she pulled out her crossbow and began firing indiscriminately at trees, sending dozens into throes of rage. On the opposite side Beauty fired as well, sending exploding bolts into the forest to wake it.

  Trees groaned and flailed, attempting to strike at the perceived threat but only waking their neighbors. The larger ones bent at the trunk, slamming the floor with their whole frame, their branches seeking for targets. The smaller ones were young enough to pull themselves free, and began to charge about, their branches swinging with lethal abandon.

  Elven guards cried out and hastily retreated, avoiding the wave of rampaging treewalkers. Officers bellowed to summon mages but their voices were barely audible over the din. Scattered and unable to hear orders, the elven guards were helpless to obey.

  Jack smirked at the wonderful chaos and began to run, pushing past the spreading numbness in his leg. Together they threaded their way through the trees, dodging packs of elves fighting to subdue the treewalkers.

  “There!”

  “I see them!”

  “They're headed to the exit!”

  Elves spotted them and shouted for aid, but their voices were lost in the screams and shouts reverberating throughout the chamber. Before anyone could mount a pursuit, the trio reached the entrance and disappeared.

  Jack's leg betrayed him and he began to limp. Beauty and Lorelia stepped into the lead as a quartet of guard
s appeared. The elves shouted in surprise and drew their swords, charging at them. Beauty darted into the fray, deflecting and knocking two of them sprawling.

  Lorelia cast a light golem that smashed into the other guards. Its huge fists struck at the two soldiers, striking one in face and sending him sliding across the floor. Undeterred by the sword cutting its flesh, it wrapped its arms around the last soldier and ran him bodily into the wall. The elf slumped to the floor, his sword tumbling from his fingers.

  “What's happening, Jack?” Beauty called back, her voice tight with worry.

  Jack smirked. “I like having women guard me.”

  They snorted at his words, but when they turned away Jack winced. A thorn had scraped near his eye and his vision had started to blur. His leg threatened to buckle at any moment, and he could no longer feel his left arm. It hung limp at his side, swinging with the motion of his run in an almost comical fashion.

  “We'll get you out and find a healer,” Lorelia said. “In this city they are everywhere.”

  Jack didn't respond, too occupied with the numbness that had reached his tongue. They were forced to slow as Jack's limp grew worse, and they dropped back to his side. Just then calls of anger rang out behind them.

  “They're coming,” Lorelia said.

  They hurried through the asunder chamber and Lorelia threw an arm back, sending a streak of light into the room. Just as the guards appeared around the bend the chamber burst to life, causing them to cry out in dismay and come to a halt at the chamber's threshold.

  “It will hold them for a moment,” Lorelia said, “But not long enough.”

  They reached the whirlpool chamber to find a company of guards rushing across an aquaglass bridge. They spotted the trio and the officer bellowed an order—but Lorelia pressed the rune to deactivate the bridge, dropping the soldiers into the swirling water. The water swept them apart, sending them hurtling throughout the spherical room—even onto the ceiling. Then the angry water began to churn, turning solid and hardening up to the soldier's necks. Held fast, they could only shout in helpless rage as Lorelia reactivated the bridge and the thieves sprinted across.

  “Look at how cute you are,” Lorelia said.

  She laughed and patted one on the head as they sprinted by. They entered the final corridor but Jack's body refused to function. He went down, hard, and the others leapt to his side. Beauty’s face filled his vision, her features blurred yet still stunning.

  “Go,” Jack managed to say.

  “We're not leaving you,” Beauty said.

  “I don't mean forever,” Jack growled, his voice sounding distorted in his ears. “Come get me after they heal me.”

  They exchanged a look, and Lorelia shrugged. “It's a sound plan. They won’t execute him until he's healed.”

  “Of course it's a good plan,” Jack said, annoyed that his voice sounded so raspy. “Now go.”

  Beauty's face leaned close, her countenance tight with worry. “Don't die before we get you out.”

  “That's a stupid thing to say . . .”

  His tongue grew too thick for him to speak, so he squeezed her hand. She smiled at him and nodded. Then she was gone. Dimly Jack heard sounds of a conflict, and then an elf's face filled his vision. Jack would have laughed at the bruise forming on his cheek, but the numbness seemed to have reached his head. Ignoring the elf’s shouts, he closed his eyes and darkness claimed him.

  Chapter 34: Nine, Kiki, and Lorth

  Jack woke to a stabbing pain in his skull. He groaned and tried to curse but it came out broken. A chuckle caused him to shift and force his eyes open. As his vision focused he found a beautiful elf peering down at him.

  “Hurts?” she asked, and raised a cup to his lips. “It should. You took enough poison to kill a tigron.”

  A bit of liquid dribbled into his mouth and he savored the flavor of the juice. Laced with healing magic, it added a pleasant tingling all the way into his stomach and sent a surge of strength in his limbs. He sighed in relief and cleared his throat.

  “Does the injured get a kiss?”

  Her lips twitched but she managed to contain the smile. “You may be handsome, but you're still a thief.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “You've been unconscious for a week,” she replied. “In two days you will be ready for . . .”

  Her expression darkened and she turned away. Understanding her unspoken words, he managed a chuckle. “I've been under an execution order before.”

  “Not by us,” she replied. “No one escapes a hanging by the elves.”

  His mind cleared and he eased himself into a sitting position. Chains clanked as he moved, and he looked down at the manacles binding his wrists. The inky texture to them indicated they had been imbued with anti-magic.

  “Someone always escapes,” he replied.

  “You're to be executed as soon as you are fit to hang.”

  “For the theft?” Jack asked.

  She surprised him with a grin. “You sought to steal an orb for Ranol Keserian, and the council is furious about his attempt to subvert his trial. They're talking exile now, even though Ranol has denied knowledge of your attempt.”

  “Of course he did,” he said with a snort.

  He surreptitiously scanned the room, searching for a weakness. To his dismay he found himself in a stone cell with a steel door. Clean and neat, it contained only a small hole in the ground and a bed.

  “They let me recuperate in a prison?”

  She pursed her lips, her bright blue eyes narrowing in attractive irritation. “They insisted. Apparently you demonstrated a penchant for escape, and they didn't want to risk you getting out like your companions.”

  “All of them escaped?”

  She jerked her head to the door. “Another elf sits in the cell across from you. He'd be dead already but no elves were killed in the incident. He's to hang with you.” She shuddered and looked away.

  “They're going to do it in public,” he said, reading the revulsion on her features.

  The move wasn't much of a surprise for him. The elves normally performed capital punishments in private, and only did executions in public when the offense demanded the display.

  A clanging of keys signaled the approach of a guard, and Jack’s eyes flicked to the door. Bound by steel bands with more anti-magic, the barrier looked strong enough to stop a reaver. A tiny window at the top allowed a glimpse of the hallway beyond.

  The healer's expression tightened and she rose to her feet. “Goodbye, thief.”

  He caught her hand. “What's your name?”

  “Sora,” she replied with a small smile. “I'd ask you yours, but we both know you will lie.”

  He grinned at her shrewd assumption. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But call me Jathan when we next meet.”

  “You are well, so I will not be seeing you again.”

  “That would be a pity,” Jack said. “Memory cannot recall a beauty such as you.”

  She flushed, her eyes darting to door. “I do hope you escape,” she whispered. “But I cannot help you.”

  A key turned in the lock and the door swung open to reveal an armored elf. He inclined his head to the healer and she departed, leaving them alone. Jack smirked at the elf and affected a languid pose.

  “Welcome to my abode, elf. Would you care for some ale?”

  The elf jerked his head. “I'm Keiko Ker'isse, Captain of the City Guard.”

  “That's quite a mouthful. Can I call you Kiki?”

  The Captain scowled and entered the cell. “Your companion has told us everything.”

  Jack laughed and kept laughing, causing the elf’s expression to darken even further. Even after what Jack had done to Kuraltus—and Kuraltus to him—he doubted the elf had divulged anything, which meant Keiko was bluffing.

  “Do you find your execution amusing?” Keiko ground the words out.

  “If you tell me his name, I'll believe you,” Jack said with a knowing smile.


  “Lorth, and—”

  Jack's laughter cut him off, and he had to hold his stomach as the lingering pain forced him to a stop.

  “I'm Nine,” Jack finally said.

  “That can't be your name,” the elf said.

  “Of course not,” he said, and his smile turned sly. “But it's how many times I've been under an execution order.”

  The implication of how many times he'd escaped the noose caused Keiko's expression to darken further. “Not by us. If you talk, perhaps we will be lenient.”

  Jack shrugged. “I appreciate your concern, Kiki, but I'll take my chances.”

  The Captain flushed crimson, and for an instant Jack thought he would strike at him. Then he reined in his anger and turned on his heel. As he exited into the hall Jack heard him mutter under his breath.

  “Skorn blasted guild thieves.”

  His footfalls echoed into silence, but Jack listened to see if any guards were close. Then he rose and moved as close to the door as his chains allowed. He managed to see through the bars in the window to a matching door on the opposite side of the hall.

  “Lorth?” he called.

  Kuraltus appeared in the opening. “Nine? You couldn't pick a better persona?”

  Jack shrugged, making the chains rattle. “I thought they would have killed you by now.”

  “I'm to die with you,” Kuraltus said.

  Jack then noticed the change about the elf. The seething rage, the cruel lilt to his features, even the shadow had passed from his eyes. Their absence had twisted his features with regret and sorrow.

  “What happened to you?” Jack asked.

  “I have remembered who I am,” he said, and then sighed, “or was, anyway. He took my memory of everything good, leaving only a lifetime of awful choices. He made me believe I was a killer and then sent me to be one.”

  “You still killed for him.”

  “I became a thief to right the injustices of my race,” Kuraltus said, looking through Jack as if he wasn’t there. “I wanted to make reparations for the gaps in the laws that hurt the innocent. Instead I’ve spend twenty years spilling the blood of my own people. Because of him I have become what I abhor.” He shuddered and dropped from view.