Thief in the Myst (The Master Thief Book 2)

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Thief in the Myst (The Master Thief Book 2) Page 23

by Ben Hale


  “Look,” she whispered, and gestured to the cliffs surrounding the castle.

  Jack peered at them and spotted a small orb bracketed into the stone. Another lay nearby, and another. Then Jack saw the pattern and it was easy to spot the others. Layered and placed across the whole of the stone, the orbs would bathe the cliffs in light if activated. The protection was costly and unnecessary—unless one knew that thieves favored shadowhooks.

  “He’s ready for us,” Jack said. “Gordon, you know what to do.”

  “I still don’t like it,” he said acidly. “And I don’t see why I have to do it.”

  “Relax,” Jack said. “If he catches you, he won’t kill you until he has answers.”

  Gordon released a low growl and then removed his cloak. “If they kill me, don’t let them have my body.”

  “Stop complaining,” Ursana hissed at him. “This won’t work if they think you’re terrified.”

  “I am terrified.”

  Jack grinned as Gordon stepped into the open and strode toward the gates. The light revealed his white robes, marking him as a priest of the Church of Light. Striding across the cold stone, he came to a halt outside of crossbow range.

  “Cult of Skorn!” he shouted. “We have long known of your blasphemies, and I call on you to hear my words!”

  Laughter scattered across the battlements, and someone shouted a reply. “Go home, priest. We do not serve your false god!”

  “False god?” Gordon roared. “You dare to call Ero, Herald of Light, Dawn of Magic, a false god?”

  “You come to our door and spout your twisted doctrine?” a woman shouted, anger in her voice. “Your bravery will get your killed. I warn you again, depart in peace while you yet have your legs.”

  “Skorn is the devil, cast out by Ero for attempting to destroy Lumineia. Yet you worship him? What sort of person believes such filth?”

  “Filth?” came the sputtered reply, and a ripple of anger filled the battlements. “You have twisted a religion for the purpose of gold, and you call us filth? Your entire faith is a sham.”

  “Your deity is dead!” Gordon shouted. “Killed by Ero in their final battle. And we are better now that such waste has been executed.”

  “Your ignorance is astounding, priest,” the woman shrieked. “For Skorn walks with us this very day, and soon your entire church will be destroyed.”

  “You dare to threaten a servant of the Light?” Gordon shouted. “We should call on Ero to strike you down.”

  “You have no power here!” the woman screamed. “Nor anywhere in Lumineia. We serve Skorn here.”

  “I know,” Gordon called, and his voice dripped with pity. “But you can always repent.”

  The woman screamed at him, but the words were no longer intelligible. Jack sensed the current of rage stretching to the breaking point and smiled, mentally praising Gordon for his persona. Then Gordon raised his hand a final time and issued a thundering roar.

  “Skorn is nothing but a slain devil!”

  Abruptly the door cracked open and cultists burst into view. Gordon turned and fled. Sprinting into the darkness, he raced down the road with hundreds of enraged worshipers shrieking at him. Jack stifled a laugh as he watched them flood past their hiding spot. Then he turned to the others.

  “They left the door open for us,” he said, and smirked. “How can we turn down such an invitation?”

  Chapter 33: Skorn

  From deep in the shadows Jack watched the cultists stream by. He grinned to the dwarves, who nodded and slipped away with Beauty. Then Jack led Lorelia and Ursana from their hide. Gliding through the shadows, they darted to the open doors and slipped inside. As Jack had guessed, most of the cult members had left their posts to punish Gordon. Their numbers were intimidating, but they lacked the discipline of a true army. Under Lorelia’s light bending charm the thieves slipped through the remaining guards.

  “How did you know so many would follow Gordon?” Lorelia whispered once they were inside the fortress.

  “They’re cultists,” Jack said. “How trained could they be?”

  “What if Gordon can’t outrun them?” Ursana whispered.

  “He has a speedstone,” Jack said. “So unless they have magic he should have no trouble reaching Hilltop.”

  They crept through the shadows that surrounded the courtyard. Then they slipped into an armory and made their way to the opposite door. Easing it open, they glided into the keep that abutted the mountain. Lorelia paused to snag a trio of green cloaks and tossed two to Jack and Ursana.

  “Might as well blend in.”

  Jack donned his and then strode down the side hall, searching for a way upward. Mentally he counted the seconds and then they found the stairs. Then the sounds of returning cultists echoed from the exterior.

  “Split up. Meet back in the courtyard in ten minutes—whether you have the keys or not.”

  They nodded and slipped away, and Jack took the largest corridor into the mountain. Finding a set of stairs, he ascended to the second level. Several times he passed a cult member but they did not bother him inside his cloak, and a moment later he reached the great hall.

  He slipped into the shadows cast by a statue and scanned the area, searching for hint of a strongroom. A handful of green cloaked figures moved about, with several exiting or entering the large double doors leading higher into the keep. Jack pictured what he’d seen of the keep and frowned.

  The interior of the citadel had been carved from caves within the cliff, and apparently divided into three levels. The lowest contained training rooms, armories, barracks, and storage rooms. A single set of doors allowed entry into the fortress’s mouth on the second level. Jack guessed from the layout that the area behind the eyes on the top of the fortress would also be isolated.

  Feigning nonchalance, Jack ascended to second level. A cult member swung it open just as he reached it, and he smoothly stepped into the opening with a nod of gratitude. Then he entered the amphitheatre.

  The stonework of the benches was old but well maintained, and faced the stage that abutted the teeth. The amphitheatre faced the jaws of the fortress, making it feel as if Jack stood within the mouth of the mountain.

  The roof of the cavern remained unchanged from the original cave, while the floor had been cut into benches that descended to a raised stage. Packed with cultists, the amphitheatre was disturbingly silent.

  Jack slipped into an empty seat in the back row. His irritation mounted as the seconds ticked by but no one appeared, and no one moved. Then the arched opening that sat against the platform shimmered and the stone parted like a veil, allowing Skorn to enter. By unspoken accord the audience stood, causing Skorn to smile at them.

  It had been several months since Jack had seen Skorn, but the man had not changed. Tall and lean, he exuded a menace that went beyond his dark eyes. His features were stark and angular, and would have been considered handsome without the scars. A quartet of white lines twisted his face, the mark of a great cat swiping at his skull. Ugly and wide, the scars seeped with menace.

  “You have worshiped me for forty thousand years,” Skorn said, “and the time has come for the kingdoms of Lumineia to witness my might.”

  Whispers swept across the cultists and they murmured avowals of worship. Skorn strode across the stage, his boots clipping against the stone, hard and menacing. His gaze swept across the crowd, lit by triumph.

  “But on this day some have come with the purpose of harming me.”

  The whispers gained an angry tint. Skorn smiled but the expression merely bent the scars, making it cruel rather than kind.

  “You have nothing to fear,” he said. “For they cannot harm me.”

  He gestured to the arch and Ursana was pulled into view and shoved to the floor. She blinked in the glare of the light orbs and forced herself to her feet. She flinched as the cultists began to shout for her death. Then two more were shoved through the opening. Gordon and Lorelia stumbled to Ursana’s side and stood
with her, forming a protective circle. Their hands in shackles and their faces bruised, they faced the crowd with defiance on their features.

  Skorn raised his chin and the crowd went eerily silent. “Jack Myst . . . welcome to my home. Would you care to join me?”

  Before Jack could move the cult member in front of him turned to face him, and those beside him followed suit. Then the entire crowd turned to stare at him, their expressions rigid with simmering rage. The one at Jack’s side turned as well and Jack’s eyes widened in recognition.

  “Gallow,” Jack said, and sniffed in disgust. “When did you even become his pet?”

  Gallow sneered at his words, a touch of red climbing into his skin. “I obey him because I know what he is.” Disdain and fear rippled his features, making it evident that Gallow did not serve Skorn by choice.

  Gallow shoved him toward the aisle, but he slipped out of Gallow’s hold and descended the steps. The seething rage from both sides seemed to strike at him, and several spit on his cloak. He blew out his breath in disgust.

  “You should keep your dogs on a leash,” he said.

  Someone reached for him but Skorn barked an order and they withdrew. “Must you enrage everyone you meet?” he said with a sigh.

  Jack grinned as he stepped onto the platform. “Must every fool offend so easily?”

  “You are the fool,” Skorn said, “for thinking you could enter my halls unnoticed. Have you already forgotten what I am capable of?”

  “Of course not,” Jack said with a snort. “Which is why I didn’t come alone.”

  Skorn gestured to the three shackled thieves. “Your arrogance will be your end, Jack.”

  Jack grinned. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  Skorn’s eyes narrowed and flicked to the others. His calculating look only served to heighten Jack’s amusement. Then Skorn snapped to look at him—and the lights winked out. Extinguished with a shocking suddenness, it stunned everyone in the room. Then Skorn’s bellow rent the darkness.

  “There are others! Find them!”

  Men and women scrambled about, and the sounds of their billowing cloaks filled the chamber. Shouts rang out as someone tripped, smashing a knee into a stone bench. Another cursed, accidently using Skorn’s name in vain. Then the spell came to an end and the lights blazed to life.

  Jack and the others were gone.

  The empty stage drew a collective gasp, and Skorn’s roar galvanized them to action. “FIND THEM!”

  As the cultists scrambled to obey Skorn’s orders, Jack slipped out a side door and raced down the corridor leading deep into the mountain. Thalidon joined him, and a moment later Roarthin appeared.

  “Took you long enough to get in,” Lorelia said.

  Thalidon tapped the wall with his fist. “It’s granite and marble. We were lucky to get through at all.”

  “At least we have our exit,” Gordon said. “I’d rather not be left at the mercy of these people.” He gestured to the unconscious cultists scattered across the floor of the tunnel.

  The tunnel forked ahead, and as they reached it Beauty appeared. Across the way Jack met her eyes, and grinned. She’d been on the front row of the amphitheatre when Jack had taken the stage, and dropped the lights with a darkstone.

  “Did you find the keys?”

  She smirked and twirled them in the air. “I took them off Skorn when the lights went out.”

  Jack laughed and accelerated to catch up to her. “Then let’s go.”

  “Are you enjoying this?” Roarthin asked with a scowl.

  “You aren’t?” Jack and Ursana said at the same time, and laughed in unison.

  “They’re gaining on us,” Lorelia said, her voice rigid. “Ursana?”

  “On it.”

  The girl pulled her crossbow into view and spun. Then she fired three bolts in quick succession. Gusts of wind burst from the weapon, guiding the bolts down the corridor and around the bend. Jack heard the impact and recognized the sound of bolts exploding ice, filling the corridor with a frozen wall. Muffled cries of dismay confirmed it.

  “Wind magic?” Jack asked, peaking an eyebrow. “Is that what you had added in Torridin?”

  Thalidon grunted in surprise. “Dwarves don’t possess wind magic. Where did you get it?”

  “A rock troll,” Ursana said with a sly smile.

  They reached the end of the corridor and Roarthin ushered them into a storage room. The moment the door slid shut, an explosion sounded in the distance, and hundreds of feet flooded into the tunnel.

  “We don’t have much time,” Thalidon said. “I’ll seal the door. The rest of you with Roarthin.” He turned to the door and fire seeped from his fingers, turning the handle red.

  As the metal fused to the frame Jack turned to Roarthin. “I hope you have an exit for us.”

  “Same way we came in,” the dwarf said. “You’re fortunate you have me. Thalidon was never good with stone magic.”

  Thalidon grunted. “You really want to compare talents now?”

  Roarthin grinned and shoved a barrel out of the way to reveal a gaping hole in the back wall. The stone was rough and appeared half melted, as if fire had drilled into it.

  “It connects to a ventilation shaft further up. Follow it to the surface and then descend to the road.”

  Beauty took the lead, her jaw set in a firm line. “Don’t get lazy. We won’t be safe until we’ve put Margauth at our backs.”

  She took a step toward the exit—and collapsed, crying out in pain. Jack leapt to her side but could do nothing as Beauty screamed. The others gathered about, craning to see.

  “What happened?” Jack demanded.

  Gasping in pain, she lifted the sleeve of her tunic to reveal a tiny cut along her shoulder. The blood was minimal, but it had a tinge of green to it that suggested poison. She ground her teeth together.

  “It’s stronger than my magic,” she hissed.

  Jack shook his head. “When did it happen?”

  Her features twisted in agony and she arched her back. “In the hallway I felt a sting,” she hissed. “When I looked no one was there.”

  Jack shook head. “That was after we stole the key . . .”

  And it was just us.

  He swiveled to face the thieves gathered around Beauty. Ursana and Gordon were closest, with Ursana holding Beauty’s hand. Thalidon and Roarthin stood behind them, the fear on their faces making clear it wasn’t them.

  Lorelia was gone.

  Then he spotted her by the door, using her magic on the handle. Jack lurched to his feet and shoved his way through but it was too late. Lorelia yanked the door open, revealing Skorn and Gallow framed in the opening.

  Chapter 34: Betrayed

  Jack stared at Lorelia, anger and shock dumping into his veins. “Why?” He spit the word at her.

  Lorelia didn’t meet Jack’s gaze as she stepped to the side. “I have no choice.”

  “How could you do this to us?” Ursana said. “You hate him as much as we do.”

  “He has a way with manipulation,” Lorelia said. She looked away, her expression pained.

  “Traitor,” Beauty said through clenched teeth, causing Lorelia’s expression to tighten.

  “You don’t know anything about me,” she snapped.

  “You should not squabble,” Skorn said, his smile turning smug as he stepped into the room. “I own you all, now.”

  “You don’t own me,” Thalidon barked.

  The dwarf pulled an axe from his back and lunged for Skorn, but Gallow darted in and deflected the blow. He spun and kicked the dwarf in the temple, driving him to the floor. By then the rest of the group leapt into the fray.

  Gallow deflected Roarthin’s axe and launched his idalia spinning around them. In the confined space of the room they struggled to evade it, and Gallow slipped between them, striking on all sides.

  Jack leapt over him and landed by Skorn but he shifted away. Jack’s blade glanced off his forearm with clink of metal, reveali
ng the steel-wrapped gauntlets beneath his robe. Jack stepped to the side, barely avoiding having his throat cut by the assassin’s spinning blade. The motion allowed him to catch a glimpse of the room. With half the thieves groaning on the floor, the other half fought with ferocious valor, but Gallow was simply too fast. He slipped among them and knocked their blades aside, evading with the agility of a trained swordsman.

  Skorn used Jack’s distraction to strike his gut, driving the air from his lungs. Then he caught his tunic and threw him across the room. Jack crashed into the wall upside down, grunting from the impact before sliding to the floor. He just managed to get his hands down to prevent his skull from fracturing and rolled to his feet.

  “Stop,” Jack hissed. “Before they start killing.”

  “Wise words,” Skorn said. “Gallow, leave them be.”

  Gallow looked up at him. He had a knee on Gordon’s back and was about to strike at Ursana. He scowled at the order, but he caught the spinning blade and withdrew to Skorn’s side. Groaning, the thieves pulled themselves to their feet.

  “Why spare our lives?” Gordon asked, clenching the bloody furrow in his arm.

  “A tool need not be destroyed until it is no longer useful,” Skorn said. “But make no mistake, if you continue to defy me your lives have no purpose.”

  Beauty hissed in pain, drawing all eyes to her. “What sort of poison is this?” she asked.

  Skorn withdrew a small vial from a pouch and tossed it to Jack, who caught it deftly. “Give it to her and see for yourself.”

  Jack exchanged a look with Beauty, but she shook her head. “It can’t do anything worse than what’s happening now.”

  He growled under his breath and stooped at Beauty’s side. Her face was drawn and a sheen of sweat reflected off her skin. She clenched her side like it would alleviate the wracking pain. Then she arched her back, every muscle in her body contracting simultaneously and contorting her arms.

 

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