by Ben Hale
Disturbed by what he'd seen written on the elf's face, Jack withdrew. For years he’d imagined Kuraltus as the pinnacle of villainy, yet the elf had suffered in a way Jack could not know. Now that his recollection had returned, the elf knew everything he'd done for the Guildmaster.
The Guildmaster had robbed the elf of his integrity and left the dregs of his soul. Kuraltus had then carried out Orn's will because he believed that was all he was. For the first time Jack considered the thought that Kuraltus had suffered just as much as he had.
He tried to retain the anger he'd felt toward the elf, but it eroded beneath him. Guilt stabbed into him as he realized he'd been pursuing a victim instead of a perpetrator. Then he recalled what he'd done to Nemeth and rose to his feet.
“What about Nemeth? Did he too have his memory taken?”
The chains rattled and Kuraltus appeared once again. “No,” he murmured. “We may have been thieves, but not all of us were honorable. Nemeth required little to become what he did.”
“And Morissa?”
“She was the best of us,” Kuraltus said. “Both in talent and integrity. Her betrothed was our last guildmaster and they were as perfect a match as I’ve ever seen.”
“You talk like she was a friend.”
“She was.”
“Yet you killed her.”
Kuraltus grimaced and wiped a hand over his face. “I was told to bring her back unharmed, but she fought like a dragon. I can only assume it was to protect you.”
“I wasn’t the one that killed her,” Jack said, his voice turning hard.
The silence stretched between them as Kuraltus struggled to speak. When he finally met Jack's gaze the raw agony on his features caused Jack to retreat a step.
“At least my death will atone for what I did to her,” Kuraltus said.
Unable to endure the pain on the elf's face, Jack shook his head. “You were the weapon, not the wielder. She would not condemn you for what you did.” He couldn’t bring himself to offer his own forgiveness.
“I hope in time you will forgive me,” Kuraltus said.
The elf retreated once more and this time he did not return to the door. Jack reclined on his bed and released a long breath, struggling to regain control of his thoughts. He stared at the ceiling without seeing it, and the hours passed without his notice.
He'd spent years hunting his mother’s killers, but it had not resolved how he’d expected. Of the three he'd set out to punish, only one had proven worthy of his wrath. The second was dead and the third did not merit Jack's judgment. The Guildmaster was obviously the source of the conflict, but he had not been directly involved in Morissa’s murder.
For the first time in six years, Jack was left without a viable target. Rather than peace he felt a lingering sense of unease. He rumbled in his throat, wishing he’d killed Nemeth when he’d had the chance.
What was he supposed to do now? The question settled into his chest like a chunk of ice. He sighed, realizing that it didn’t matter. It may not have ended the way he’d wanted, but his quest was over. For the first time in hours he looked about the room, a smile appearing on his lips. He should not be surprised that his hunt to kill three men had ended with him in a cell.
Jack finally sat up and fixed his gaze on the door, his thoughts turning to escape, and food. He retrieved the evening meal that had been passed under the door. As he ate the cold food he scanned the room.
He’d been in an assortment of cells before, but the elven prison was by far the most formidable. The walls were blank and clean, and bore more etchings of anti-magic. Nary a crack marred the smooth stone of the walls, floor, or ceiling. With the exception of the bed the room was empty except for a covered privy at the corner of the room. Light came from an enchantment on the ceiling rather than an orb, and the rune of condemnation glowed down upon him like a magistrate’s glare.
He stepped to the door and examined it. The lock was fine dwarven steel, the mechanism sealed in order to prevent tampering from the inside. At the base of the door a trapdoor allowed food to enter, but it too was locked from the outside. Realizing he would not be able to escape alone, Jack sat on the bed to consider his options.
With just days to prepare he wondered what his friends had been able to plan. He checked his pockets for lockpicks but all metal had been removed from his person. He scowled, and decided to find a set of picks that a metal mage could not find.
Resigned to waiting, Jack watched the guard rotation and feeding schedule, searching for a point of weakness. As the day passed into the next he found none, and a trickle of annoyance seeped into his gut.
The elves were taking no chances, and did not even permit the guards to speak to them. Food arrived with four guards, all well armed and focused. The cook lifted a flap in the bottom of the door and slid a tray onto the floor. Jack tried to keep the tray in an attempt to force a conversation, but the cook merely deprived him of his next meal. His stomach grumbled for hours before lunch, which he devoured in seconds.
He'd hoped for more visitors, at least to ease the tedium as much as for a chance to escape. None appeared, and by the end of the day Jack began to suspect that Keiko had made it an order not to speak to him.
Jack idly wondered if the Guildmaster would attempt to get them out. The guild tenets required him to try, but if he learned what Jack had done he would probably leave Jack and Kuraltus to their fates. The man was not his foe but he was still evil, and Jack fell asleep with a smile on his face, wondering how the Guildmaster would react when he found out about the map.
He woke the next morning to the sound of approaching guards. The number of boots on the floor brought him to his feet, and he sensed the moment had arrived. He frowned, irritated that he'd failed to break free before being led in front of the elven public. Then the door swung open and Keiko entered with several guards.
“Nine,” he addressed Jack. “You have been accused of spilling elven blood, entering the Hall of Records, and stealing a memory orb. Your sentence of death will be carried out forthwith.”
Jack found it interesting that Keiko avoided mention of the destroyed map. The elves certainly would have searched the Queen’s vault and discovered the theft, so why not add it to Jack’s list of crimes? Then he considered the possibility that they didn’t want to admit their vault had been breached, and a priceless artifact destroyed. Jack had enough offenses to merit an execution, so why add the indignation of saying Jack had breached their vaunted defenses?
“Is that all of my crimes?” Jack asked.
Keiko flushed and turned away, confirming Jack’s suspicions. He did not look back when Jack’s taunting laugh filled the corridor. A moment later Jack was chained to Kuraltus and they were herded down the corridor to an exit. When they reached a set of steps Jack stumbled and fell into a guard. He palmed a button on his tunic as they forced him to his feet.
“My apologies,” he said.
The elf shoved him forward. “Move.”
Jack did as requested as he worked on the button. Like most elven buttons it contained a pin that attached the button to the tunic. With great care he bent it straight, and then inserted it into the lock. Keeping his expression benign, he worked the tumblers while they brought him and Kuraltus outside.
He blinked at the morning sun and himself near the base of Azertorn. They passed out of the prison halls, under a pair of portcullises, and into the street. From there they advanced into the enormous shade cast by the great tree, Le Runtáriel.
Jack continued to work the lock as they were led to a pair of platforms in front of a large crowd. Drawn to the morbid spectacle of a hanging, the group stood somber as Jack and Kuraltus were led onto the execution platforms.
Jack stepped onto the trapdoor and briefly considered making a run for it. Still shackled, he would only be dragged back to face his fate a second time, likely bound even more. He'd look like a fool, and die as one. He discarded that fate and continued to work on the lock binding his hands togeth
er.
“Do you have any final words?” Keiko asked, stepping to his side.
Kuraltus shook his head, but Jack nodded. “I do, thank you Kiki.”
Jack then began to recite a poem his mother had made him memorize called the Ballad of Ero's Staff. The choice of a religious poem shocked Keiko, but after several lines his eyes narrowed in irritation. When Jack paused for breath he interrupted.
“The Ballad is more than forty pages long, thief. You cannot mean to recite it all.”
Jack straightened, his expression turning indignant. “Good sir, do you mean to interrupt a condemned man's final words?”
A murmur of disapproval swept the crowd and Keiko shifted uncomfortably, clearly at a loss for what to do. Before he could decide Jack went on, louder than before. The inflection of his voice was passionate, but with enough mockery to elicit a whisper of laughter from the crowd. Throughout it all Jack continued to work the lock.
Keiko remained in place, his frustration turning to anger as he waited for Jack to either run out of memorized material or give up. Jack's eyes shifted to him and he resisted the urge to wink as he told the tale of how Ero had taken up his staff to destroy the devil Skorn, casting him out to dwell in the hells below.
Laughter bubbled up among the group as Jack continued the tale. Several times Keiko sought to interrupt Jack, but Jack kept speaking, drowning him out with the increasingly violent diatribe of the ballad. Amusement washed across the onlookers, but many of the older elves expressed their disapproval, their eyes shifting to the captain as if encouraging him to cut Jack off.
By the time Jack approached the end of the ballad the crowd had doubled in size, and Jack felt the lock about to give. He smiled at Keiko, who'd fallen silent and folded his arms, apparently content to let Jack finish. Looking past him, Jack spotted a familiar face. His smile widened as he finished the poem. As the last words left his lips Keiko stabbed a finger at the executioner, who fitted the rope about Jack's neck.
“At least death will silence you,” he growled.
Jack winked. “It's been a pleasure, Kiki. I'm sure I'll see you again soon.”Then the shackles opened with an audible click.
Chapter 35: Becoming Ten
Jack yanked his hands apart and reached for the noose, slipping his head free before the executioner could pull the lever. Keiko's eyes bulged in disbelief and he reached for his sword, shouting for aid. Jack darted forward and caught the elf's sword hilt. Retaining his grip, he kicked the captain full in the chest. As the sword came free the elf went crashing to the ground, the wind driving from his lungs upon impact.
“Sorry Kiki!” Jack called.
Guards swarmed the platforms, but a crossbow bolt streaked out of the crowd and slammed into the steps of the platform. The explosion shattered them into kindling, knocking the guards to the ground. Jack caught Ursana's eye and grinned his gratitude.
Perched in a crook of a tree well off the ground, she held a large crossbow and balanced it against a branch. Even with the distance he saw her grin in return. Then she fired a freezing bolt at a charging elf. It struck him in the back and exploded into ice, toppling him to the ground where he struggled to move.
Jack spun to face the executioner, who'd drawn his own sword and charged. Jack deflected the strike with his sword and spun, leaping the platform and striking the lever just as the executioner stepped onto it. The elf dropped from view, smashing his helmet on wood as he disappeared.
Streaks of light poured into the soldiers attempting to ascend the sides of the platform, singeing their skin and causing them to recoil with cries of pain. Jack couldn't see her, but he recognized Lorelia's handiwork. Then Gordon appeared, climbing to Kuraltus as Beauty leapt over the ranks of guards to reach Jack.
“About time,” Jack said.
“Some gratitude would be appreciated.”
“You'll get it when we're free.”
She scowled but didn't argue, using her dagger to strike at the guards attempting to climb up to them. Jack used his elven sword to cover the opposite side of the platform, defending them from being overrun. Then Keiko regained his voice.
“KILL THEM!”
“I don't mean to sound hasty,” Jack said, “but we are running out of time.”
“We're right on time,” Gordon said, leaping to their platform.
Kuraltus followed suit just as his platform was taken over. As the ranks of soldiers thickened around the executioner platforms Jack was forced to retreat.
“Beauty?” he called in a rising tone. “What's the plan?”
“This!” she shouted, and darted to the open hole in the platform, diving from view.
Gordon grinned and leapt to follow. “It's good to see you again, Jack.”
Jack and Kuraltus exchanged a confused look, and then both dropped into the hole. For a split second all was quiet as the guards clambered onto the platform. Then the side exploded into shards of wood, knocking soldiers to the ground. The four thieves burst into view astride their steeds. The horses leapt the elves and charged into the open.
Keiko bellowed for aid and sprinted after them, leading the company of elves in pursuit. The crowd parted, screaming in fear as the horses thundered past. The thieves turned a corner into a wall of soldiers advancing toward them. Their exit cut off, they wheeled their mounts around. Soldiers filled the gaps, rushing to surround them. Then two children ran into the path of the charging horses.
Oblivious to the surrounding conflict, they suddenly noticed their predicament and froze, but the horses were already upon them. They cried out in fear . . . and the thieves raced right through them, their horses flickering as the children's bodies disrupted the illusion.
The elves slid to a halt and Keiko bellowed his outrage. Spinning in place, he looked back at the execution platform in the distance, where Jack and the others were climbing back through the hole to the top.
Jack grinned and saluted to Keiko. Then he swung his sword and cleaved the noose from the beam. Catching it with his free hand, he tossed it to the crowd. Most of the onlookers had retreated when the thieves had appeared, but many remained, their expressions torn between amusement and concern. A woman caught the noose and held it up like it was a victory rose at a wedding, and others laughed.
“I hope you enjoyed my ballad!” Jack roared.
He leapt off the platform and raced after his companions. The crowd rippled with laughter as he sprinted down the empty street. With the sun setting on the summit of the city they raced down a set of stairs where Ursana and Lorelia joined them.
“Jack,” Ursana said, inclining her head.
“Ursana,” he replied. “I'm surprised to see you here.”
“Beauty told us you needed help,” Ursana said, a smile playing across her features. “And I wanted to be here to see you in need of rescue.”
Jack groaned at her smug tone. “My reputation will never recover.”
“You're worried about your reputation?” Gordon asked. “You had a noose about your neck just minutes ago.”
Jack laughed at that, but Beauty cut him off. “We're not out of the city yet. If you don't want to see us hang together, you need to focus.”
“Then where are we going?” Jack asked.
“Where the elves will not follow,” Gordon said.
Jack peaked an eyebrow but Gordon merely grinned and turned down a set of stairs that took them to the base of Azertorn. Rather than buildings, the bottom tier of the city contained lush gardens with winding paths, streams, and quiet benches. Elves started at their approach and rose to their feet, shouting at the thieves for disrupting the peace of the garden.
The sounds of pursuit mounted as they came to a pond stretching to the cliff face. The water went right to the edge, making it appear as if it continued forever. Beams of twilight cascaded through the branches of Le Runtáriel to reflect off the pond.
Without hesitation Beauty sprinted into the water and the others followed. Shrugging, Jack jumped in, swimming with the
other thieves to the opposite side. A wall of stone held the water from pouring down the cliff and Jack pulled himself onto it. Standing in water up to his ankles, he leaned over the edge.
The cliff plunged two hundred feet to the lake below. Fed by the twin waterfalls that bound the city, the lake stretched for miles in both directions. Its waters rippled from the titanic falls, causing the reflection of trees and sky to undulate.
“Your things,” Ursana said.
She stooped and grabbed a pack hidden beneath the water. Then she stood and handed it to Jack. He opened it and whistled in appreciation as he saw his belongings. Complete with his crossbow, dagger, and other tools, the pack carried the insignia of the elven guard.
“We took them this morning,” Beauty said, handing a similar pack to Kuraltus.
“How thoughtful,” Jack replied.
“It wasn't out of kindness,” Gordon said, and gestured to the cliff below. “You're going to need them.”
Catching his meaning, Jack retrieved his gauntlets and pulled them on, checking the shadowhook for damage. A smile of relief crossed his features as he felt the familiar leather on his skin.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he crooned.
“How flattering,” Lorelia said as if he'd spoken to her.
“Cut the banter,” Beauty snapped, “Get moving before arrows find our backs.”
Ursana jumped first, and activated her shadowhook on the way down. It caught on the evening shadows and slowed her descent. The others were quick to follow as Jack donned his pack. Just before he leapt a rush of footfalls caused him to turn back.
Elves flooded into the garden from all sides. Others in the garden retreated before their charge but hovered in the background, curious yet fearful of the conflict. Bellowing orders, Keiko appeared and slid to a stop on the opposite side of the pond. Jack grinned at the captain and raised his hand in farewell.
“My apologies Captain,” he shouted. “But I fear I must take my leave.”
“You will not escape, Nine!” Keiko roared.