01- Jack of Thieves

by Ben Hale

  With them moving so fast, Ursana struggled to fire again, but then Beauty joined her, and then Gordon. When Lorelia joined the trio and began to fire they forced the Guildmaster to dodge and weave. Then Jack saw his opening and dropped below the Guildmaster. Activating his hand crossbow, he aimed and fired. The bolt streaked upward, missing the Guildmaster as he dodged to the side. His expression turned haughty as he rotated back and caught the grip.

  “You should learn to aim,” he snarled.

  Jack watched the bolt strike a handhold above. The bolt released its burst of oil and the liquid splashed against the climbing surface. It also woke the spider, which burst from its niche to face the threat. Instead its legs slipped on the wall and it came free, falling toward the Guildmaster's head.

  “You should leave the mocking to me,” Jack said. “I'm much better at it.”

  Orn's expression turned confused and then he snapped to look up—just as the spider landed on his back. He instinctively flinched and sought to dislodge it, but the giant spider bit through his clothing and deep into his shoulder. The Guildmaster cried out and knocked it away but his grip slipped, his fingers going numb. His expression turned to horror as his fingers refused to obey him, and he slipped free.

  Releasing an anguished cry, he fell fifty feet before slamming into the floor of the chamber. Whether by his magic or accident he avoided serious injury. With a groan he caught one of the grips on the wall and pulled himself to his feet.

  Jack dropped as quickly as he dared and alighted nearby. Limping, the Guildmaster hurried to a door and slipped away. Jack raced to it and kicked it open. Then he pursued the Guildmaster through the fortress to the bridge. To his surprise thieves and slaves fell into step behind him. When he caught up to the Guildmaster the man was halfway across the bridge, dragging a trembling leg behind him.

  “That's far enough,” Jack called, and came to a halt.

  Thieves filed onto the bridge behind him, packing together and standing silent. He glanced back and saw Ursana and Beauty standing beside Gordon and Lorelia. Then a rush of footfalls signaled the arrival of the rest of the guild. All bore an expression of hatred. Then Jack caught the look of intense satisfaction in Beauty's eyes.

  Orn turned and faced the group. Bloodied, burned, and broken, the man looked devastated. The spider's venom had numbed half of his body, making one side of his face droop. Rage flitted across his face but appeared almost comical when it didn't move his numbed flesh.

  “If you knew who I was . . .”

  “We'd still kill you, Orn.” Jack said, and raised an eyebrow at Beauty in invitation.

  Beauty glanced behind her and a smiled grimly. “Fortunately, we don't have to.”

  Then Jack heard a padded footfall behind him and smiled in turn. He stepped aside to allow the rayth cats through. At eight feet long, the cats were the personification of lethal, and all sense of play had gone from their forms. As they snarled, the Orn’s dark eyes widened with fear. He swallowed and raised a hand.

  “I will give you rewards you can only dream of.”

  Jack gestured to the cats stalking forward. “I don't think they care about that.”

  “Will no one come to my aid?” Orn asked, raising his voice to the group. “Have I not made you rich?”

  His gaze swept the group. Men and women, slaves and thieves, all refused to move. Slyver's lip curled in disgust while Thalidon bore an expression of rage. Then someone called out to the cats, and then another.

  “Tear him apart!”

  “Take his limbs like he took ours!”

  The Guildmaster quailed in response and backtracked, making for the end of the bridge. The cats reached him long before he came to the swamp, but the Guildmaster struck at them, fighting for his life. He cut a line across the female's nose and the male raked his paws across his face. The blow left bloody furrows in his flesh and sent him tumbling into the mist.

  The cats bounded after, and for several moments the sounds of battle grew distant. Then an anguished scream pierced the afternoon and all fell silent. Jack breathed a sigh of relief and a smile spread across his features.

  Chapter 42: A Last Promise

  With the Guildmaster gone, Jack half expected several within the guild to claim the role, but most seemed to still be struggling with the return of their memories. He stepped into the empty office with several of those he knew. Slyver strode to the desk and released an angry breath.

  “He manipulated us all.”

  “But why?” Gordon asked. “To protect his name?”

  “Perhaps it has to do with this,” Beauty said, and swung the door open to the Guildmaster's bedchamber.

  Thalidon’s eyes widened as he looked at the star maps on the ceiling and the strange drawings on the walls.

  “The lair of a madman,” he said.

  “Whatever can be said about him, he was anything but mad,” Slyver said. “He was more controlled than anyone I've ever encountered.”

  “The bed hasn't been used,” Ursana said.

  Jack stepped to the side of the four-post bed. He touched the blanket and his hand came away covered in dust. He brushed it from his fingers and looked about the room but there was no other place for a man to sleep.

  “Who was this Orn?” Slyver asked, turning to Thalidon. “Do you remember when he came to the guild?”

  “He just appeared at our door and walked in,” the dwarf said. “Within days he'd erased memories and killed anyone his magic couldn't touch.”

  “But had you heard of him?” Slyver pressed.

  The dwarf jerked his head. “Never.”

  “Power draws attention,” Gordon said. “And he was clearly powerful. Just look at how easily he incapacitated us.” He stabbed a finger to the office where Orn had used the dajuna on all of them.

  “It wasn't body magic,” Beauty mused, and when the others looked to her she shrugged. “My mage sight allows me to see the same type of magic in others. Orn had no trace of it.”

  “Then what sort of magic empowered his body?” Slyver demanded.

  Jack released an irritated breath. “Does it matter? He's gone and the guild is back to normal.”

  “He could have survived,” Slyver said. “Forlana still hasn’t found the body.”

  “He’s gone,” Lorelia said. “That’s all that matters.”

  Jack stepped to the door and began to walk away, but the others caught up to him. Slyver pointed to the demolished desk and the vault door behind it.

  “We need a new guildmaster.”

  “Then pick one,” Jack said. “I’m not part of the guild anymore.”

  “You're leaving?” Gordon asked.

  He felt a twinge of regret but nodded. “I've done what I came here to do.”

  “We need someone smart and talented,” Thalidon said. “Someone capable of fixing what Orn destroyed.”

  “Good luck finding the fool,” Jack said.

  “What if it's you?” the dwarf asked.

  “Him?” Slyver asked. “He’s been a thief a few months. What makes you think he can lead our guild?”

  “He stopped Orn,” Thalidon said, folding his arms like that settled it.

  Jack stared at them, stunned by the request. Then he burst into a laugh that caused the dwarf to scowl. His humor subsided when he spotted the sober expressions on some of the others and realized Thalidon was not alone in his sentiments.

  “I don't care who you make your guildmaster,” Jack said. “But it won't be me. I told you this was my last assignment.”

  “Why not?” Lorelia asked. “What else are you going to do?”

  Jack was surprised for her support and turned to her. The elf had struggled more than the others to dispel Orn's magic, and for the last hour she'd walked around in a daze. Now her eyes were sharp and clear, indicating she'd regained full control of her faculties. Oddly, the lascivious expression she'd always had was absent.

  “Why not?” she repeated.

  Jack folded his arms. “Beca
use I don't care enough about the guild, and you need someone who does.”

  He strode to the door as they began to debate the issue. Beauty disengaged herself from the group and joined him in the hall. They walked in silence until they reached Jack's room and he began to pack the few of his belongings he’d left behind.

  “You did a good thing here, Jack.”

  He grinned. “I know.”

  She shook her head in exasperation. “I was going to ask you to stay, but you're making me rethink the idea.”

  “Wouldn't matter if you did,” Jack said. “I'm not going to. I must admit, I'm surprised you are going to stay.”

  She stepped in front of him, preventing him from gathering the remainder of his clothes. “After I joined the guild, Orn caught me in the hall of records and saw what I was reading. He admitted what he did to Erela—and then took the memory.”

  “He won't be able to do that again,” Jack said. “So why stay?”

  She looked away. “I have nowhere else to go, not until my father is no longer chief.”

  “I do,” he replied, and stepped around her.

  “What if I did ask you stay?”

  Jack met her gaze and his smile faded. She wanted him to stay, and not just because of their shared history. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. When she didn't hesitate he leaned in and kissed her.

  He sensed a trace of fear in the contact, but it was burned away by exhilaration. When it turned passionate he pulled away, retreating before the desire would overwhelm them. They stared at each other, both breathing hard. Then Jack slowly shook his head.

  “I can't stay,” he said, but relented at the disappointment in her eyes. “But I might return. There's just something I need to do.”

  She accepted that with a reluctant nod. “Don't stay away too long, Jack,” she said, and then smiled. “Or I might forget how much I dislike you.”

  “Goodbye, Thera,” he said, and shouldered his pack. “Take care of the guild while I'm gone—especially if you become guildmaster.”

  She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because you would be great,” he said, and smirked. “No one can argue with your beauty, but few know how smart you are. Trust me, the guild needs you.”

  He grinned and slipped from the room. Abruptly eager to leave, he strode through the castle's halls until he reached the main exit. Then he stepped outside and breathed deep of the muggy air. It smelled like freedom but brought a tinge of sadness. Then he pulled the lever to raise the bridge.

  “You shouldn't go,” Lorelia said.

  He turned to find the elf sitting in the darkness nearby. “I have to,” he said. “There's something I need to do.”

  She stepped into the light and approached, but kept her distance. The lust in her eyes was noticeably gone, and Jack wondered how much of that was due to the end of the memory magic.

  “Wearing a persona is like a mask,” she said. “And if you aren't careful it will become you.”

  “What makes you think I'm wearing a mask?”

  “One with a mask recognizes another,” she said quietly.

  He stared at her, struck by what she was insinuating. “What mask do you wear?”

  Her lips tightened and she ignored the question. “Are you a thief now? Or is it still your persona?”

  He smirked. “Does it matter?”

  Then the elf smiled and her playful expression returned. “Be well, Jack. I’m sure we will see each other in the future.”

  With that she slipped away, leaving Jack to his confusion. Then he turned and strode across the bridge. As he watched it lower into the lake his gaze lifted to the castle. Shrouded in fog and steeped in twilight shadows, it seemed warm and inviting. For the first time he considered what he would do now, and wondered if he was leaving home behind.

  He stepped into the swamp but stayed on the ground. Working his way through the gloom, he reached the border of Talinor two days later. There he found a village and paid for a horse to ease his journey.

  He took his time, savoring the sense of freedom that hung about his shoulders. The weight he'd carried since his mother's death had faded, leaving him with a smile on his face. A week after departing the Thieves Guild he reached the coast.

  Steering clear of the elven nation, he took a ship across Blue Lake to a druid port well north of Azertorn. Then he backtracked south, avoiding the druid settlements and the inevitable questions that would come if he were recognized.

  The sense of freedom had faded into solemnity, and he forewent the luxuries of civilization in order to avoid contact with it. As he neared his childhood home he took to the trees and wandered the paths he'd tread with Shadero.

  He passed a place where bark had been stripped away on a dead tree, the claw marks still visible in the now rotting wood. The mock duel had damaged much of the clearing, and left scars on the tree and on him. He traced a finger across the wood and recalled Shadero's concern when he'd accidently clawed Jack's arm.

  “It's just a scratch,” Jack said aloud, recalling what he'd said to the cat.

  He smiled at the memories and moved on. It had been almost seven years since he'd departed, but much of the treescape remained the same. He passed a brook gurgling its way from the western mountains and took a drink from the same spot he'd drawn water for his mother.

  Suddenly reluctant to see the burned cottage, he slowed his pace and approached the clearing with caution. A moment later he stepped into the sunlight and looked upon the cabin of his youth.

  The rocky soil had prevented the trees from overtaking the clearing, and the cabin lingered like a skeleton. Its beams protruded from the rubble, the wood faded from years in the sun. He wondered if the remains of his father, his lion, and the killers were still buried beneath it all.

  He turned away and strode to the patch of soil his mother had used as a garden. She'd painstakingly removed the stones when he was little, and he could still remember his sore muscles when he'd lifted the smaller rocks onto the barrier around the garden.

  “My fingers hurt,” he'd complained.

  “Never be afraid of pain,” she'd said with a smile. “Without it you would not know caution.”

  He ran a hand over the garden wall, which had surprisingly retained its shape. Weeds and brush had filled the garden and he abruptly decided to clear it. With his dagger he sliced the greenery and tossed it out of the garden until the afternoon sun brought him to a halt. Then he took a seat on the wall and looked down at the spot where he'd buried his mother.

  “It's finished,” he said. “Those who came for you have received their due.” He released a breath and looked away. “But I suppose I should start at the beginning.”

  He began with Lord Saris and his invitation to the guild. A smile spread across his features as he talked about Ursana and Gordon, and their assignment to steal a war from the Amazons. Then he’d learned Beauty’s secret, and gained an ally that would prove instrumental in finding his targets. Knowing his mother would appreciate it, he took great care in describing Thera with all her formidable abilities. Then he shared the events in Nightfall Gorge and could almost hear his mother's laughter.

  The events in the elven kingdom would have brought another smile to his mother's face, and he took great care to explain the moment he confronted Kuraltus. His mother would not have cared for the revenge, of that he was certain, and so he spoke most about the change in the elf following the broken memory magic.

  “I let Kuraltus go,” he said. “I know he led the party that came for you, but he'd suffered enough.”

  He finished the tale with his entering the Thieves Guild and subsequent confrontation with Orn. Then he spoke of his escape and triumph over the Guildmaster. When he fell silent the sun had begun to set, casting golden beams of light to swirl the dust around him.

  He stayed in the clearing for the night, and watched the stars move through the heavens. The crackling fire at his side rem
inded him of the fateful night. After Orn's memory magic, the moment stood vivid in his mind, but this time a nagging thought wormed its way into his skull. He frowned and rose, striding to the spot where he'd held his dying mother.

  The answers are here.

  He'd always thought she'd meant the answers were in him, but as he reviewed the memory he distinctly recalled her arm sliding off his shoulder, and pointing beyond him. He moved to the indicated spot and drew his dagger, digging it into the soil. After several minutes of searching he saw a faint reflection of light off a curved surface. He cleared it away, stunned to see what lay buried at his feet.

  A memory orb.

  Chapter 43: Morissa’s Truth

  His fingers trembled with excitement as he activated the orb. Fear gripped him when nothing happened. Then the orb glowed to life and his mother's face appeared. Her smile was as warm as he'd ever seen, and caused a lump to form in his throat.

  “My Jack,” she said. “I hope to give this to you myself, but if you are watching it without me it means they found me. All I can ask is that you forgive me.”

  A young child began to giggle, and the view shifted as tiny hands grabbed the orb and began to run with it. Morissa laughed and chased the boy, collecting the orb and turning it so her face came into view again. As it shifted he saw the image of himself as a child, and recognized the sly grin on his two-year-old self.

  “You love mischief,” she said fondly. “And I get the impression you always will.”

  She gave little Jack a toy and then stood, moving outside the cabin so she could speak freely. Then she settled onto the porch step and her expression turned somber.

  “I know that one day you will have questions, and so I will endeavor to answer them here. First, I should tell you I am a member of the Thieves Guild.” She winced as she said it, and then shook her head. “I left a wretched home and family to join the guild, and excelled within their ranks. There I met a handsome man and fell in love. We set a date to be joined, and I could not have been happier.”