Thief in the Myst (The Master Thief Book 2)

by Ben Hale

  “I’ll get more wood! You start a fire!”

  Jack’s frozen fingers fumbled his attempt. Even with the enchanted sparklight the wind kept snatching the flame the moment it appeared. He repositioned his body to block the wind and then tried again. To his immense relief the fire glowed to life and licked into the smaller branches. Lorelia returned and began feeding larger branches, so Jack braced himself for the biting wind and ducked into the open.

  The wind assaulted him like a dwarven warhammer, nearly knocking him sprawling. He gritted his teeth and pushed into the gale. Snow had already covered much of the ground but he managed to find an armful of dead wood. He returned to find a crackling fire blazing in the protection of the tree.

  He set aside the firewood and moved toward the heat. He breathed a sigh of relief as it washed over him but couldn’t stop shaking. Then he spotted Lorelia using both blankets to form a large bed between the fire and the trunk.

  “Plan on sharing?”

  She flashed a grin, her lips blue from the cold. “The fire will help but it isn’t enough. We’ll have to share the bed.”

  He smirked and pushed the pile of wood within reach, and then climbed beneath the blankets. Lorelia slid into place beside him and they removed their cloaks from inside. Then they huddled together, shivering as the storm wailed outside.

  “Are you warm?” she asked.

  “Getting there,” he said with a tight laugh.

  They took turns adding sticks to the fire but kept it small. Too large and it would light the tree on fire. Too small and the wind would extinguish it. After a while Lorelia fell asleep and Jack kept watch. Whether from the storm or nightfall, the region faded into darkness.

  Beneath the tree snow still managed to fall upon them, gradually increasing the weight on his side. At first he thought it would make him colder, but it seemed to act like an extra blanket, and gradually warmth trickled through his limbs.

  Lorelia’s shivering began to fade, and after an hour she rolled over to face him. With their bodies pressed together he was close enough to see every fleck of blue in her flawless eyes. Her hair lay in disarray but that only served to enhance her beauty. She smiled at him as if aware of his scrutiny.

  “Are you comfortable?”

  “I can feel my toes again.”

  She chuckled and eased closer, tilting her head in invitation. He accepted, leaning in to kiss her soundly. Warmth flooded his frame and he pressed harder, drawing her to him. She responded in kind, her hands tightening on his back. Then he opened his eyes.

  And her face flickered.

  He instinctively withdrew and stared at her. She tried to kiss him again but he leaned back, studying her features intently. She smiled at him but he caught the tightness of her lips and knew it to be forced.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He scanned her face, confused and uncertain at what he’d seen. Then his eyes flicked to hers and he noticed the trace of fear. Suddenly the truth clicked into place.

  “How much is an illusion?” he asked.

  She winced as if he’d struck her, and then her expression hardened. “You don’t understand.”

  “You spoke of masks before,” he said. “And you’re certainly talented enough with light magic to maintain a guise charm.”

  “If I did have a mask, what makes you think I’d remove it for you?”

  “Because I know the truth,” he said. “And anyone wearing a mask wants someone to know who they really are.”

  For a while the sounds of the crackling fire and the shrieking wind engulfed them. Then her expression became pained and she swallowed. She slowly reached up and touched the amulet at her throat, sending a shimmer of light across her features. The enchantment seeped into her skin, revealing her true face. Jack stiffened in surprise, causing pain to lance across her features.

  “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you,” she said, and rolled away.

  Jack reached to her back but his fingers stopped short of touching her clenched shoulder. Then he slowly withdrew his hand, the image of her face still fresh on his mind.

  Her face was narrow, as if two stones had pressed her skull. The skin on one cheek drooped, misshapen and lumpy since birth. Scars crisscrossed the other side of her face, marring the only part of her features that had been normal.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I was just surprised—”

  “I’ll take first watch.”

  “Wait—”

  “Too late, Jack.”

  The fury in her voice drove him to sigh and lay down facing away from her. He wanted to console her but could not find the words, and eventually he fell asleep. Deep in the night a poke in the ribs woke him up. He rolled to face her but she refused to look at him. Resigned to feeding the fire, he grappled with her secret.

  Warm and lost in thought he became drowsy, and the next thing he knew he was waking up in the morning. Filtering through the branches the sun shone on his face, indicating the storm had abated. He grunted at the lapse and reached for a log to place it on the fire. To his surprise another hand picked it up first.

  Covered in a furred gauntlet, the scarred hand added the log to the fire and retreated. Jack followed it to the owner and found a man seated beside the flames, a massive maul resting on his knees.

  Jack reached for his dagger but spotted a second barbarian leaning against the tree. A third shifted in his peripheral vision, and then another appeared. Jack rotated back to the first and the barbarian’s features twisted with rage.

  He nudged Lorelia awake. “We don’t need to find the barbarians anymore.”

  She didn’t look at him. “Why not?”

  “Because they found us,” he said.

  Chapter 8: Brother

  Huge and forbidding, the man was a veritable giant. His black hair hung free down his back but his beard had been braided like a dwarf’s. Scars marred his face, cutting across his nose and angling down his cheek. Blue and red paint accentuated the scar in vibrant patterns.

  The giant wore studded leather armor lined with fur, and a massive cloak made of bearskin. Encased with iron, the bear’s skull formed the barbarian’s helmet. As fearsome as it was, the armor did not compare to the weapon. Animal fangs and steel spikes protruded from the knobby maul, its sheer size enough to crush a foe’s head like a ripe melon.

  Jack yawned and sat up. “I’d ask you to make yourselves comfortable, but it’s clear you already have.”

  The leader glared at him. “We don’t care for spies in our lands.”

  He snorted. “Who would spy on this wasteland?”

  Some of the barbarians hid smiles but the leader was not amused. “Take them,” he said. “I’ll decide their fate after the battle.”

  “Battle?” Lorelia asked.

  His gaze flicked to her. “You chose to make your camp on a sacred battlefield between our clans. The bones of generations sleep beneath you.”

  “And you still haven’t resolved the conflict?” Jack sniffed his disapproval.

  The barbarian scowled and stood before pointing his maul north. “Let them witness the battle before we take their heads.”

  Jack opened his mouth to respond but a pair of large hands caught his arms and pulled him out from under the pine tree. He barely had time to don his cloak before he was shoved into the snow. He caught his balance and turned to snap at them—and then sucked in his breath.

  Thousands of men and women surrounded the tree in disorderly ranks. Many sat on downed trees, sharpening axes and swords. Others were occupied with drinking from great barrels of mead, their songs echoing across the slope. Whetstones ground on steel as barbarians sharpened their blades, the distinct sound carried by the frigid wind. Despite the conflict of the previous night Lorelia shifted closer to him as they trudged through the snow.

  “Any ideas?”

  “Find out what happened to Beauty. And keep our heads.”

  “As detailed as ever,” she said acidly.

  “Have you e
ver considered that your persona is nicer than you are?”

  She growled at him with such venom that one of the barbarians laughed approvingly. “She sounds like one of our kind,” he said.

  “I’m not,” she snapped at him, but that only caused him to laugh again.

  The barbarians brought them higher on the hillside until they reached a trio of youth crouched around a fire. Bearing a great double-bladed axe, the one in the center stood in greeting, his eyes lighting with curiosity.

  His features were young and his beard short, yet he towered over the other two. In spite of his height his body lacked the characteristic girth of the other barbarians, suggesting he had not stopped growing. His black hair hung braided and tied, covering the wolfskin that adorned his back.

  “Golic,” the giant said, shoving Jack toward the group. “Make sure they watch the battle.”

  One of Golic’s companions growled in dismay and he stabbed his broadsword toward Lorelia. “I will not forego a battle to do a woman’s work.”

  The man stepped forward and struck him, sending him sprawling into the snow. “It wasn’t a request, Ather. Don’t let them escape.” Then he turned his gaze on Jack and sneered. “The chief wants to kill them himself.”

  They turned and left. When they were gone Golic gestured to Jack and Lorelia. “Join us at the fire. I’m sure you’re cold.”

  “Freezing,” Jack said, and slipped into the seat vacated by Ather.

  “You’re a prisoner,” Ather snarled. “Not a guest.”

  The youth reached out to strike him but Jack pulled a knife and touched the blade to the main’s groin. Although Ather outweighed Jack by fifty pounds, his fist came to a halt.

  “I’d prefer to be a guest,” Jack said.

  Ather’s gaze would have charred a steak but he did not move, and the standoff lasted until Golic spoke.

  “I’d take another seat,” Golic said easily, a smile tugging at his features.

  Ather snarled at him and retreated. “Watch them yourself, Golic. I’m joining the battle.”

  With that he snatched his sword from the ground and stomped away. In his absence Golic motioned Lorelia to the empty log across from him.

  “You may be dead by nightfall,” Golic said, “but you may as well enjoy the fire while you can.”

  “Do you always speak of death with such ease?”

  “Death stalks us all,” Golic said with a shrug. “Then we go to Ero or Skorn.”

  Jack and Lorelia shared an amused look at the mention of the devil. Then Jack gestured to Golic’s other companion.

  “And do you feel the same?”

  The blond youth grinned and nodded, and Golic said, “He has been ordered to silence until his third kill.”

  Jack’s gaze shifted back to Golic. “Do you treat all guests so well?” He held his wrists up like he expected to be bound, causing Golic to laugh.

  “They didn’t bind you because you are not a threat.”

  “Is that why they didn’t take our weapons?” Lorelia asked.

  Golic turned to her with amusement. “Our people do not consider you a danger.”

  The other barbarian nudged him and made several hand signals, and whatever he said made Golic’s smile turn wry.

  “He says our arrogance has been our downfall in the past.”

  “Arrogance always leads to destruction,” Lorelia said, her eyes on Jack.

  Jack ignored her. “Your chief said this was a sacred battleground.”

  Golic laughed with a trace of bitterness. “I could go into an exhaustive tale of how a rival clan wronged us, but I suspect it would be meaningless to you. In short we battle each year. The victor claims the region as their own, while the defeated must return to the higher mountains where food is scarce.”

  “Can you not share it?” Jack asked.

  “Probably,” Golic said, “but that would mean forgiveness, an act foreign to our people. Feuds are rife among the clans, and bloodshed is frequent.”

  “Can you forgive one who flees your lands?” Lorelia asked.

  Golic’s smile faded. “Is that your purpose here?”

  “We seek for one named Thera,” Jack said. “She was a daughter of your people until her sister fled and was killed. Then she went after the Thieves Guild.”

  Golic went rigid. “What do you know of Thera?”

  “She journeyed here but never returned.”

  Golic lowered his voice. “If the chief knows that she lives, she will be hunted and killed.”

  Jack noticed the spark of worry in his eyes. “Why do you fear for her?”

  “She is my sister,” Golic said quietly.

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “When is the last time you heard from her?”

  “Three weeks ago,” Golic said. “She sent me a message that she wanted to visit. She was supposed to arrive a week past but never came. Instead I received another message.”

  “What message?”

  Golic fished a scrap of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Jack. “I admit I don’t understand its import.”

  Jack unfolded the parchment and read the script. He’d expected it to be written in her handwriting and the ornate script confirmed it.

  Orn survived. I spotted him in the southeast of Terros near Margauth. Golic, make sure he comes after me.

  Thera.

  Jack grunted in irritation and read it a second time. Noticing his reaction, Lorelia reached out and took the note. She cursed when she read it.

  “You understand it?” Golic asked.

  “It was intended for me,” Jack replied.

  Golic jerked his head. “I don’t understand.”

  Jack crumpled the note and tossed it into the flames. “I’ve never been so disappointed to be right.”

  “Skorn’s gone to Margauth, to the cult of Skorn,” Lorelia said. “You were right.”

  “The cult of Skorn?” Golic asked, his tone darkening. “Why would Thera go there?”

  Lorelia shook her head in confusion. “She pursues our former Guildmaster.”

  “We need to find her,” Jack said, and rose to his feet.

  “You think her in danger?” Golic asked, rising as well.

  Jack barked a laugh. “When is she not?”

  A distant horn blew. Long and haunting, it caused the barbarian camp to fall silent. Then an answering horn came from within the Bearkiller camp, bringing the horde rushing together to form ranks.

  A man stepped from the southern tree line and plunged his sword into the snow. For an interminable moment the world seemed to hold its breath. Then barbarians exploded from the forest and roared. Bellowing at the men above them, they charged up the snowy slope.

  “The Manhunter tribe has swelled in number,” Golic said with a frown.

  The Bearkillers released an answering roar and charged. Their great boots kicked snow into the air, sending small flurries billowing across the battlefield. Weapons were drawn and the glint of steel reflected in the sun.

  Heedless of the snow the two armies came together in a crushing impact of blades and bodies. Steel rang against steel, plunging into flesh. The wounded cried out in rage and pain. Blood stained the snow, turning the white to scarlet.

  “They kill without cause,” Jack said in disgust.

  “Perhaps,” Golic said quietly. “But we know no other way.”

  “Knowledge must be taught,” Jack said. “And it’s time such senseless conflict came to an end.”

  “They will not listen,” Golic said.

  “Then they will die,” Jack said bluntly. “And if you had half the intelligence of your sister you would know that.”

  Golic sighed and bowed his head. “Your words are harsh, thief, but they are not without truth.”

  For several minutes they watched the battle unfold. When Jack spotted Ather take an axe in his gut, he released an angry breath.

  “I think it’s time we take our leave.”

  Lorelia nodded in agreement. “Before the battle comes to
a close and your chief decides he wants more blood.”

  Golic turned away from the battle and stared at them. “If you wish to flee we will not stop you.” His silent companion nodded his head in assent.

  Jack peaked an eyebrow at him. “How much will it cost you?”

  “A good lashing,” Golic said with a shrug, “but I consider it a price well paid for a friend of Thera’s.”

  “How do we escape the valley?” Lorelia asked.

  “There’s only one way out,” Golic said, “and therein lies your dilemma.”

  Jack folded his arms at the barbarian’s tone. “So how do we get around the battle?”

  “You can’t,” Golic said, and gestured toward the battlefield. “The only way out is through them.”

  Jack turned to the battle and a wild grin spread on his features. “Let’s go steal ourselves an exit.”

  Chapter 9: Enraged

  “You want to go through them?” Lorelia asked.

  “Why not?” Jack asked, grinning at the prospect.

  Lorelia shook her head. “I don’t like our chances.”

  He gestured to the raging battlefield, which had already spilled to the cliffs on one side and into the forest on the south. The pass lay on the opposite side like a massive doorway in the mountains.

  “They are more than distracted,” Jack said, “so just stay on the move and we’ll emerge on the opposite side.”

  “We will pretend to pursue you,” Golic said.

  “You don’t need to pretend,” Lorelia said. “You couldn’t stop us if you tried.”

  Golic appeared doubtful but his silent companion bore a wide grin on his face. Jack ignored them and stepped down the slope. He checked his weapons and shouldered his pack. Then he strode toward the battle. Lorelia was quick to catch up to him.

  “You think you can run into a raging battle and emerge unscathed?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Your arrogance will get you killed, Jack.”