01- Jack of Thieves

by Ben Hale

  “The map reveals the location of everything the ancients built,” he said. “What I seek lies in one of them.”

  “So what is it?” Jack asked. “Knowledge? The secrets of their magic?”

  Orn burst into a laugh so mocking that Jack scowled. “You think you know so much, and yet you know so little.” He retreated and folded his arms. “Now finish the story.”

  Jack heard the threat in his voice and realized he was out of time. Knowing his only choice was to keep the man talking, he risked pulling harder against the rope and a strand gave, and then another.

  “I felt the poison in my limbs,” he said, “and confronted Kuraltus.”

  Feigning anger, Jack took his time to fabricate the tale of their conflict. As the rope continued to part Jack knew he'd stalled as long as he could. He'd broken part of his bonds, but needed more time.

  “And the map?”

  Jack shook his head. “I left it behind.”

  The Guildmaster regarded him for several moments. Then his raised the dagger and pointed it at Jack. “Lie again and I’ll take one of your eyes.”

  Jack grunted in irritation and realized he had no choice. “I threw it to the vintor.”

  The sheer fury on the man's face held him in a deathly calm. He stood rigid, but it seemed like he was bursting with power. His hand tightened on the dagger’s hilt, his dark eyes never wavering from Jack.

  “Then you are of no more use to me.”

  Jack saw it in his expression, in the tilt to his form. He would kill Jack without another word, and a lie would not give Jack any more time. As the man stalked forward Jack played the only card he had left.

  “I saw the map.”

  Orn came to a stop within striking distance. “I don't believe you.”

  “It became a giant sphere of magic that showed the entirety of Lumineia,” Jack said. Just one more minute. “I admit the continent is larger than I expected, but not the only one on our world.”

  Orn’s eyes widened with instant greed, and without a word he turned and darted into his bedchamber. Confused, Jack strained against the bonds and felt them give again. He gasped as the rope scraped his wrist but he managed to pull it free. Then Orn reappeared and Jack returned to his posture.

  “Perhaps this is best,” Orn said, his features bright with dark excitement. “I wish to know your purpose, and this will tell it to me—as well as everything else I wish to know.”

  Jack eyed the dajuna in his hands. Instead of bright purple, this one was laced with black and gold. It quivered as it shifted, moving like a living creature.

  “Another attempt to erase my memory?” Jack asked, and tensed to strike.

  “No,” Orn replied. “This does so much more.”

  He stepped within reach and Jack swung. Unprepared for the motion, Orn's eyes widened with shock as Jack's fist struck his temple, sending him sprawling. Then Jack threw himself backward, landing hard on the chair. The joints of the wooden chair snapped under the strain, crumbling to pieces and leaving him free. Rising to his feet, he snatched up a discarded sword and turned to face the Guildmaster—but he was already there.

  Inside his guard, Orn caught his wrist holding the sword. “You arrogant fool,” he snarled. “You battle a foe you do not understand, and still think to triumph?”

  His hair in disarray, his dark eyes burning, the man appeared to have lost his mind, yet there was a brutal certainty about him that was more frightening than anything Jack had seen before. Jack fought to break free but Orn held him in an iron grip, and stabbed the gold dajuna into his chest.

  Jack growled as the knife of energy went into his heart, but it did not hurt. The magic warmed his chest and turned toward his head, causing light to flow from within his flesh as it ascended to his skull. Jack swung his free hand, smashing it across the man's cheek and leaving a bloody welt on his lip. Orn turned back with a wild grin.

  “Your secrets are no longer yours, Jack.”

  The magic reached his mind and Jack fell to his knees, his strength failing him. The panther part of him shrieked but he didn't know if was audible or just in his head. Then he heard Orn's voice in his mind.

  Let's start with the map, shall we? I'd like to see it for myself . . .

  Jack's vision blurred to a brilliant gold, and when it cleared he found himself standing in the Queen's vault looking at the ancient map. He tried to look around but his body was not his own, and he watched himself reach out to touch the rune that activated the map. As his body retreated he fought for control, to speak, to move. Then he noticed the golden tinge to the edges of his vision and understood.

  It's a memory, he thought.

  Very good, Jack, came the reply.

  I'm not stupid.

  The Guildmaster's voice laughed in his head, but the amusement faded as the breadth of the map appeared. Jack's body moved around the map like it had weeks ago, gazing upon it as the words and places appeared.

  After so many years, I find what I seek in the head of a thief.

  You have what you want, Jack replied. So you can leave my head now.

  This only works once, Orn replied, and Jack could feel the smirk as if it was on his own face. And I intend to use it to the fullest.

  The memory sped up, and Jack raced back to Kuraltus with the map in hand. As he dodged the vintor's lethal vines and emerged alive, Orn began to chuckle.

  You really are a master thief, he said. A pity the talent belongs to one so arrogant.

  Jack remained silent, knowing what was coming. As they watched the confrontation with Kuraltus through Jack's eyes the truth came from Jack's lips.

  “What do you care for a disgraced thief?”

  “She was my mother,” Jack heard himself say.

  The elf's eyes widened in surprise, and Jack got the impression the Guildmaster reacted the same way.

  Now this is a surprise, he said. The one thief to escape has a son that returns. I always suspected they lied about Morissa’s fate.

  Why did she keep the map from you?

  She knew more than any other, Orn replied. But it seems she didn’t share everything with you. Let’s see what she told you, shall we?

  Jack's vision flashed gold once more, and this time it shifted to Jack racing through the trees. He was fourteen, and at his side a panther ran along a branch. Fear, hatred, and guilt crashed over him as he realized where he was. The emotions shattered the memory magic and Orn screamed in pain. Then Jack's consciousness faded and the memory took hold.

  Chapter 39: The Fallen

  Jack sprinted along the branch and leapt to another, the sense of freedom so vivid he could taste it. He looked at the sinewy cat leaping into a different tree and grinned. Shadero had been his Joré for years now, and some of the cat's physical attributes had begun to transfer. Jack's vision, strength, agility, and speed had all improved. Jack slipped between two limbs and sprinted across the curved wood like it was flat ground.

  The transfer had gone both directions, and he sensed Shadero's enhanced mental faculties reach for his mind. The cat seemed to grin and bounded closer. His words filled Jack's mind as if the cat were speaking in his ear.

  We're late. Again.

  Jack's grin widened. They had been told to return at twilight, but the sun had set hours ago. His mother would be upset, but it was his father he would have to avoid. The man had been sinking further and further into a bottle until it even affected his lion. Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust and jerked his head.

  “How did he ever bond with a lion?”

  I suspect he was a different person when he did the summoning. Now I fear his corruption has seeped into his Joré.

  Jack came to a halt in a high crook and ran his hand over the great back of his companion. At twelve years old, Shadero was two years younger than he was, but he frequently acted like an older brother. Because of the druid magic they were likely to live well over a hundred years, and Jack wondered how they would affect each other in the future.

 
He sighed and rolled backward, hanging by his legs. “Let's go home. Perhaps she saved supper for us.”

  He released his legs and relished the momentary acceleration. Then he flipped over and landed on a lower branch before darting east. They had already been working their way toward the house and they arrived a few minutes later. Then he spotted torches burning in the night and slowed. Curious, he crept forward until he stood on a branch that overlooked the small cottage he called home.

  His mother stood on the porch of their home facing four figures in the clearing. She resembled any druid housewife except she wore pants instead of a dress and her hair had been cut short. Her small frame reminded him of the sky before a storm, dark and ready to unleash its might.

  Through an open window Jack spotted his father slumped at the table, an empty bottle still in his hand. Behind him, his lion lay sprawled before the hearth, its great frame filling most of the living room. Jack snorted in disgust as he saw the man unconscious when his wife was threatened.

  “ . . . have hidden well,” the man in the center said.

  “You do not know the master you serve, Kuraltus,” Morissa said. “He will manipulate you as only a devil can until you are broken. Then he will kill you without a thought.”

  “He is the Guildmaster,” a second man said. “And you failed your assignment.”

  “You're a fool, Nemeth. The Thieves Guild is not what you think.”

  Jack started, nearly falling out of the tree in surprise. His mother, a thief? Intrigued, Jack crept closer and leaned out, brushing up against Shadero's flank as he did. Beneath the coat Jack could feel the cat's tension, and sensed its fear coursing through its blood.

  The four thieves began to advance, drawing their swords and tossing their torches to the side. The dwarf at the side cast a charm, causing the fire to swirl together and morph into a wolf. Its lips curled back as it drifted to the side.

  “You chose your fate when you left,” Kuraltus said. “We want what you were sent to collect. Submit, and we will not harm you.”

  “I know the Guildmaster’s ways,” she said. “And you will not harm my family.”

  The force of her words brought them to a halt. Unarmed and standing alone on the porch, she somehow seemed more threatening than the armed thieves in front of her. Nemeth smirked as Kuraltus shook his head, his elven expression turning sad.

  “We know your reputation, Morissa. We did not come alone.”

  Jack's breath caught as he spotted the others. Three came from the west, and another three appeared beneath Jack. He felt Shadero's snarl building, but he reached out and touched his neck before it could betray their presence.

  Morissa swept her arms wide. “You came for a kill? Then I'll make certain you see one.”

  She stomped on a board of the porch and it flipped, sending two hand crossbows into the air. She caught them and spun, firing both weapons into the crowd. As men cried out the thieves charged and Jack dropped from the branch.

  With Shadero at his side he crashed onto the group of men below. Shouts of surprise were punctuating by the cat’s blood-chilling snarl. Bereft of weapon, Jack managed to snatch a dagger from an astonished thief’s scabbard and plunge it into his chest. The man's eyes went wide and Jack froze in shock, watching the light fade from his gaze. When they went dark Jack looked at his hands to find blood on them, the sight holding him fast as he realized what he'd done.

  Then a blade pierced his gut and he winced. Irritation filled him when he saw a second man standing over him. He yanked the sword free from Jack's body with disdain on his face. Then he raised the blade for the killing blow.

  “You're just a boy.”

  Clenching his side and on his knees, Jack managed a laugh. “And you're just prey.”

  The man frowned—and then Shadero crashed into his back. Claws raked the man's form, gouging deep and causing him to shriek. He tried to claw his way free, but the great panther refused to release him.

  Jack fought to rise but groaned and grasped his wound. He crawled to the edge of the clearing but was forced to lean against a tree. His strength ebbing from his body, he could only watch as his mother fought the thieves.

  Fire wolves darted to her and she sent frost bolts down their throats, freezing them solid. Crossbow bolts streaked toward her but sudden gusts of wind sent them careening into the house, shattering glass and digging into wood. Roots rose from the earth and tried to grab her feet but she was too quick, and slipped among them like an avenging angel. Three charged from her right and Jack struggled to call out a warning. Then she whirled and fired once, the bolt detonated at their feet. Shouting in dismay they were sent hurtling into the trees.

  Four lay dead on the ground, their bodies riddled with crossbow bolts. Leaping over one, Morissa caught the wrist of a woman driving her sword for her stomach. Instead of deflecting it, she redirected the motion and sent her crashing into the railing of the house.

  But there were too many, and one came at her back, driving a knife into her side. She recoiled and rotated, firing her crossbow into his face. The man fell to the ground and did not rise. Then another struck at her, and another.

  Jack struggled to shout but his voice had abandoned him. Helpless, he could only watch as the surviving men cut his mother down. The ones named Kuraltus and Nemeth stepped in front of her, and a third limped to join them. With a bolt in his leg, Nemeth's face was twisted with rage.

  “Why couldn't you just do as you’re told?”

  A lion's roar suddenly filled the clearing, drawing all eyes to the cabin. Then Jack's father stumbled through the door, his great lion following after. His appearance caused the thieves to suck in their breath. Then his red-rimmed eyes seemed to register what was happening. Nemeth raised his crossbow and fired, sending a bolt sinking into his chest.

  Pain shocked him from his stupor and he bellowed at the lion. The great cat charged but its footing failed it, and it crashed to the ground. Taking advantage of the weakness, Nemeth limped forward and drove his sword into the cat's flank. Jack's father began to curse as tears streamed down his face, but he was helpless to stop Nemeth from approaching and ending his life.

  Kuraltus again looked down at Morissa's inert form and shook his head. “Shelt, Make it look like the husband did it. Then burn the cabin.”

  “The druids won't believe that,” Shelt said.

  Kuraltus turned on him. “They will if a lion attacks travelers on the road. They will assume that he,” he gestured to Jack's father, “joined with his Joré and went mad.”

  “And her?” Nemeth asked.

  “She's dead already,” Kuraltus said.

  Jack's vision had gone blurry and most of his body had gone numb. Fury welled within him as he watched them stage the clearing and then light the cabin on fire. As flames licked into the roof the trio of surviving thieves slipped into the woods.

  He heard a scratching nearby and he managed to look to the side. With knives and crossbow bolts buried in his body, Shadero clawed his way to Jack and collapsed. The bloody fur pressed against Jack's hand and he managed to wiggle a finger.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured.

  You have been the truest of friends, the cat said, his voice laced with pain.

  Jack couldn't seem to understand the words. He knew they were dying, and took solace in the fact that they were dying together. Then the panther's frame shimmered and light flowed off his body. Astonished, Jack watched the light as it swirled above the cat's frame before expanding to wrap around him.

  Like a warm embrace the light soothed Jack’s wounds, seeping into his flesh and filling him with strength. His vision and mind cleared and he looked down to see his injuries knitting. He gasped as the panther's might surged into his veins.

  As suddenly as it had come it faded, and Jack felt Shadero's smile. Enjoy the trees for both of us, brother.

  Abruptly Jack understood, and he wrapped his arms around his dying panther. The druid magic allowed him to feel the cat’s agony. Throu
gh the link, Jack felt Shadero’s heart thump its final beats as if it was his own.

  Jack held his Joré until the cat died, and fought the tears that stained his cheeks. The panther had been his brother, his truest friend, and now he'd died for him. Jack felt every pain and fear, and clenched his eyes shut against the pain. Then the cat finally went still and Jack released an anguished cry. As it echoed over the burning cabin he heard another voice.

  “Jack.”

  He looked up to see his mother staring at him. Leaving the dead panther behind, Jack darted across the clearing and knelt by his mother’s side. Her body rent and torn, Morissa stared up at him and smiled. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek.

  “My beautiful son,” she murmured. “I'm sorry I brought this upon you.”

  “I'll find help,” he said, and gathered her shockingly light body into his arms. “I'll find a healer.”

  “No, Jack,” she said, her features twisting with pain.

  He sank to his knees and cradled his mother to his chest as angry tears filled his eyes. “Why?” he asked. “Why did they come for you?”

  “Secrets,” she whispered.

  “I don't understand.”

  Her arm slipped from his shoulder, and her eyes fluttered. “The answers are here, Jack.”

  “What?” Jack asked. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Do not be what I became. Swear to me you will never be a thief.”

  Even dying her grip was powerful, and Jack could not refute the power in her gaze. “I swear it.”

  She smiled and the light dimmed. “Forgive me, Jack.”

  Her body seemed to sigh and relaxed into his arms. He didn't move, and held her to his chest as anguish rippled through him. The fire raged behind him but he felt a coldness that settled into his gut and hardened into rage. They had killed his mother, his panther, and destroyed his home—but three men had survived.

  And he knew their names.