The Vengekeep Prophecies

by Brian Farrey

  Henren nodded. “And you’re hoping to sell your pretty blue paste to make your way?”

  “That’s the idea,” I said.

  The man considered our plan, tearing off more hemmon meat and passing it to me and Callie. “It could definitely work. At two silvernibs, you’re practically giving it away. You could charge much more. Much, much more. But you can’t approach this as naff-nut as you did at the market today. Try to sell this to the wrong thief and he’ll cut your throat and take your supply before you can even start to barter. What you need is someone with connections. Someone who can help you sell it to the right people for the right price.”

  Callie leveled a wary gaze at him. “Let me guess. That someone is you.”

  Henren gasped in mock rage. “You could do a lot worse than me, missy. I know where the thieves who could use this sort of stuff hang out, I can talk the talk, and I won’t even take a cut of what you make, so you can use all the money for your ‘expedition.’”

  “If you don’t want money,” I said, “then what do you want?”

  He shrugged, as though he hadn’t really considered it. “I don’t know.... How about detailed instructions on how I can make that paste myself?”

  The look on Callie’s face told me she didn’t trust him. I didn’t exactly trust him either. Our agreed sanctuary meant we could sleep easy in the night without him betraying us. But the bonds of the sanctuary lasted only until the sun rose. The memory of his antics in the market was still fresh in our minds.

  On the other hand, even though the Sarosan text from which I’d gotten the recipe was rare, it wasn’t exactly hidden knowledge. Sharing the formula with him wouldn’t be giving out a trade secret. If he could get us the money we needed to hire a coach to Yonick Province, we could take it from there.

  “All right,” I agreed, pushing my glasses up my nose. “Come with us to Bejina. It’s a town-state not far from here.”

  He nodded. “I’m very familiar with Bejina. Lots of contacts there. If I can’t get you sixty silvernibs for the rest of your stock in under half a day, you can keep the instructions and we go our separate ways.”

  I looked to Callie. She didn’t appear convinced, but we both knew we couldn’t say no to sixty silvernibs. That kind of money would almost pay for our entire trip. The man reached across the fire, offering his hand to Callie. Reluctantly, she took it, adding, “I’m Callie Strom.”

  “A pleasure,” the man said, turning to offer his hand to me.

  “And I’m Jaxter Grimjinx.”

  As I took his hand, he squeezed tightly and a broad grin cleft his face. He looked into my eyes, almost as if he couldn’t believe I was there.

  “Well, now,” he said softly, “I’m especially pleased to meet you, Mr. Grimjinx. My name is Edilman Jaxter....”

  14

  Darkraptor Hamlet

  “Keep your enemies close, your friends closer, and let them fight it out.”

  —Callux Grimjinx, creator of the Grimjinx Conspectus

  Long after Callie had dozed off, my namesake and I stayed up talking. Edilman begged for news about Ma and Da. He smiled as I told him about our lives in Vengekeep, the phydollotry shop, and my first solo burglary. I learned that if you leave out the arson and our capture—as I did—it’s an impressive story. I also left out the bits about the tapestry, the prophecies, and all the other horrible things that had happened of late. When you don’t mention all that negative stuff, I come out of it looking pretty good.

  He returned the favor by reporting on the years he’d spent thieving with Da and all the trouble they got into. As he gave detail after detail, I wondered why Da had never told me these stories. Even if they’d grown apart, he and Ma cared enough about Edilman to give me his name. It seemed odd to never speak of the man.

  We were still chattering away at dawn when Callie awoke and let us know with an icy stare that our jabbering had kept her up most of the night. Bleary-eyed, the three of us ate what remained of last night’s hemmon, and then, with Perrin atop Edilman’s shoulder, we headed off to Bejina. As we crossed the border into Urik Province, Edilman led us deeper into the woods, saying he knew a shortcut. Callie walked ahead of us, mainly because I think she was sick of listening to Edilman and me talk.

  “So, Jaxter,” Edilman said lightly, “when I arrived at your camp last night, Callie was talking about some list you had. Ingredients or something? What is it you two are after?”

  I looked at my feet. Callie and I had agreed not to tell anyone what we were doing. We were fugitives, defying the High Laird’s quarantine. If we told anyone what we were after, they could be seen as an accomplice and share our punishment if we were caught. And while I believed we could trust Edilman, I wasn’t ready to make him an accomplice either. The less he knew, the safer we’d all be.

  Seeing my hesitation, Edilman nodded. “I know. According to the Lymmaris Creed, it’s really bad form for me to be asking in the first place. Forget it.”

  I thought about it and realized it wouldn’t hurt to tell him about the ingredients, as long as I didn’t tell him why we needed them. I showed him the list of the plants we needed. “It’s for an experiment,” I said.

  Edilman glanced over the parchment. “Pretty rare stuff. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  I pocketed the list and agreed. “And we’re on a bit of a schedule, so the faster we can sell the paste—”

  Edilman suddenly stopped. He pounded his staff on the ground and announced loudly, “We’re here.”

  Callie, who was still several steps ahead of us, turned when she heard him and glanced around. “Here? This isn’t Bejina.”

  She was right. We were still deep in the forest, surrounded by trees so tall their tops were hidden by the thick foliage above.

  Edilman said, “I’ve been thinking about it since we talked last night. You don’t want to go to Bejina. It would take another full day to get there. I get the idea you’re in a hurry to make some money. Fastest way to do that is here.”

  He jerked his thumb at a nearby tree. The trunk was as wide as our house back in Vengekeep. Starting at the base, a series of wooden planks jutted out, rising higher as they spiraled up around the outside of the tree like a staircase. Perrin squawked softly as Edilman began climbing upward.

  Callie joined me. “This wasn’t part of the deal,” she said quietly. “He was supposed to take us to Bejina.”

  I shrugged. “My uncle Garax always says, ‘The baker’s coin spends just as well as the Castellan’s.’ What does it matter where we get the money, so long as we get it? Edilman’s better at this than we are. We should trust him.”

  I could tell by her face that Callie was still unsure, but she followed me when I climbed the stairs after Edilman. The planks were wide, but I hugged the trunk of the tree the higher we went. And we went very high. Soon, we were pushing aside twisted branches, thick with fat, blue leaves, and fighting to ascend.

  “Shedan tu verros,” Edilman said to Perrin. The sprybird squeaked, then took off, disappearing into the dense treetops.

  “Is Perrin okay?” Callie asked.

  “He’s doing a bit of reconnaissance,” Edilman replied. “He’ll be back.”

  Just as we could no longer see the ground by looking over the edge of the stairs, my legs started to shake from exhaustion. I was about to suggest taking a break when we came to a clearing in the foliage and Edilman stopped.

  “Welcome,” he said, “to Darkraptor Hamlet.”

  Callie smiled widely as she looked around. “An Aviard nestvillage!”

  All around us, massive teardrop-shaped clusters of intricately woven sticks—nests—dangled from powerful branches. A system of thick vines and pulleys hung throughout the village, attached to large wooden platforms that could be used to raise and lower supplies from one level to the next. A series of bridges made of planks and rope spanned the widths between the stick-cluster nests and the trees. But hardly anyone was using the bridges. Everywhere we looked, Aviar
ds were flying in between the giant nests, using the plank pathways only when they touched down and entered a building.

  The people in this nestvillage looked like the Aviards I knew in Vengekeep: tall; broad-shouldered; talons for fingers and toes; and feathers that covered the head, chest, arms, and legs. The only difference was the wings. I’d only ever seen wingless Aviards before. Everyone here had long, wide wings that expanded greatly while in flight and huddled close to their backs when at rest.

  As we stepped onto one of the bridge pathways, we immediately drew stares. Suspicious, unfriendly stares. Sunlight filtered through a layer of blue leaves above, casting mottled azure shadows in our path. As we strode past the village’s inhabitants, Callie and I noticed the same thing.

  “Not many humans here,” Callie whispered. A pair of brown-feathered Aviards flew past and clicked their beaks at us.

  Edilman nodded. “The Aviards who live in nestvillages are notorious for disliking strangers, especially of other species. They don’t shut anyone out, but they don’t fall over themselves to make visitors feel welcome either.”

  Edilman led us through the web of rickety pathways. Most of the people stopped staring, and soon we were all but ignored. We heard a short squawk just as Perrin returned to Edilman’s shoulder. Perrin nipped at Edilman’s ear, then took off again. This time, the sprybird flew slowly, doing circles around us but clearly driving us forward. He was leading us somewhere.

  “By the way, Callie,” Edilman said softly, “I don’t know if Jaxter’s told you, but you probably shouldn’t mention to anyone here that he’s a Grimjinx.”

  Edilman whispered my surname very quietly and I blushed. He just had to bring that up.

  “Why not?” Callie asked.

  “Erm,” I said, eyes shifting nervously, “long story. Family history. Pillaging nestvaults, angry words exchanged, brink of war. But everything’s been fine since the peace accords.”

  “The Grimjinx family has peace accords with the entire Aviard race?”

  “Like I said … long story.”

  We arrived at a stick-cluster building that was wrapped around a tree trunk. We ducked behind and Edilman started rummaging through his pack. He pulled out what looked to be the lavender and black robes belonging to a member of the High Laird’s court. Throwing them on, he then took his makeup case and began creating a disguise.

  “Should Jaxter and I start mixing up some paste to sell?” Callie asked, giving me a puzzled look.

  “Hmm?” Edilman asked, distracted. “No, no, not here. Not many thieves here.”

  I frowned. “But you said you were going to help us sell the paste.”

  “I will, I will,” Edilman said, staring into a hand-sized mirror and gluing a large mustache to his upper lip. “We’re just going to get a little money here to buy transport to Bejina. And there I can help sell the paste and get you enough silvernibs to buy a carriage to take you anywhere in the Provinces. I promise.”

  He pointed to one of the nests that hung from a nearby branch. “That there is the Aviard tax collector. And I’m about to go ‘collect a tithe’ for the High Laird.”

  Callie’s brow furrowed with worry. “But the tax collecting happened last month. Won’t it be suspicious?”

  “When people see these robes, they get all nervous and do whatever I ask. Relax, Callie. I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

  Callie tugged at my arm, pulled me aside, and whispered. “Jaxter, we don’t have time for him to be pulling cons. Another prophecy could be hitting Vengekeep right now.”

  “Let’s give him a chance,” I said. “If this works, it’ll save us a lot of time.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  I couldn’t answer that.

  His disguise complete, Edilman pointed to one of the rope bridges. “I won’t be in there long. Wait for me here. Shout if you see anything unusual.”

  Edilman straightened his back and began walking regally toward the tax collector’s office. Aviards in his path barely looked at him, giving scant nods to the power they knew his robes represented. Edilman ducked as he entered the office.

  “Jaxter!”

  Callie tugged at me, pulling us both behind a thicket of leaves. She pointed to where two more humans—members of the Provincial Guard—had just entered the village. The Aviards cast only short, unhappy glances at the soldiers, just as they had when we arrived. The soldiers took no notice. They scanned the village quickly, then turned to nail a poster on the side of a large nest.

  “Cal,” I said, peering through the leaves, “why are we hiding? It’s not like anyone knows we’re from Vengekeep.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Isn’t this what thieves do when you see the law?”

  She had me there.

  The soldiers moved on, crossing bridges and hanging posters until they ran out. Then they returned to the stairs that led to the ground and left. Once they were gone, Callie went to read the poster while I kept an eye on the tax collector’s office. I wondered what was taking Edilman so long.

  Suddenly, a large piece of parchment appeared in front of my face. Callie held the poster she’d just torn from the side of the nearby nest.

  WANTED

  Jaxter Grimjinx

  &

  Callie Strom

  It included our descriptions along with very unflattering sketches of us both. The bottom of the poster warned people not to approach us because we were “cursed.”

  “Do I really look like that?” I asked, feeling my ears to make sure they weren’t nearly as big as they were on the poster.

  Callie fumed. “My uncle! He must have gotten word to the High Laird that we escaped Vengekeep. The Provincial Guard will be looking for us everywhere!”

  Well, that made things complicated. I tried to focus on the positive.

  “Your first wanted poster, Cal!” I said. “Barely a few days into your career as a night bandit and you’re already being hunted. Bangers!”

  “This is funny to you?”

  “No,” I said. “This is my life. And it’s what you said you wanted. Remember?”

  Callie pursed her lips, clearly regretting her expressed desire to become a thief. She crumpled up the poster and tossed it aside. “How can we find the ingredients if we’re—”

  Below, angry shouts rang out from within the tax collector’s nest. Edilman finally emerged … his arms held behind his back by two muscular Aviards wearing copper breastplates and bearing spears.

  “Oh, zoc!” I said, moving to where I could get a better look. The Aviard guards were dragging Edilman, who struggled to free himself from their grips. As he yanked and pitched about, their talon fingers sliced open his sleeves, leaving his arms bare. But he wasn’t getting away.

  “Should we help him?” Callie asked, looking around.

  I studied the network of bridges and platforms and got a horrible idea. “All right, listen,” I said to Callie. “I’m going to create a diversion. When the guards release Edilman, go to him and hide in there.” I pointed down to a small, ovoid nest that hung below. I’d seen people go in and out. I guessed it was an inn.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked as I moved away.

  “Something really, really stupid,” I said glumly. I scurried quickly up a combination of stairs and bridges until I was near the highest bridge in the village. Below, I saw the guards had forced Edilman to his knees. By now, passersby were watching the situation closely. This was going to have to be a big diversion.

  From what I’d seen, the Aviards flew too fast for me to outrun them. If I had any hope of making it out of this, I was going to need a little extra help. Unobserved, I took a jellyweed flower from a pouch on my left hip. I walked to the middle of the bridge and wrung the flower. Great blogs of orange jelly oozed out. I slathered it all over the bottom of my boots until they were completely coated. Then I pulled out a fresh flower and squeezed until my hands were full of the orange jelly.

  Just as they were about to t
ake Edilman away, I threw my head back and yelled: “Hello, Darkraptor Hamlet!” My voice echoed off the gigantic trees. “I appear to be lost. Could you help me? My name is Jaxter Grimjinx!”

  Every Aviard head within sight spun in my direction. I could feel dozens of yellow eyes burning through me. Mutters that sounded like irritated squawks started rising from the streets.

  “Grimjinx … Grimjinx! … Grimjinx …”

  As I predicted, the two guards holding Edilman suddenly lost interest in him. One of them opened his beak and let out a terrifying screech. His partner did the same. Soon all the nearby Aviards were making the same noise. The guards tossed Edilman aside. Their wings spread and they launched themselves up at me. I remained still just long enough to see Callie dart out to help Edilman. As the guards flew higher, I grabbed the rope railings of the bridge and threw myself forward. When my jelly-coated feet hit the planks—whoosh—I slid across the bridge like an arrow from a crossbow.

  The two Aviard guards began crisscrossing in the sky above, taking swipes at me with their razor-sharp talons. But I bent my knees and kept skidding along, faster and faster. The jelly made my feet frictionless, allowing me to accelerate the longer I slid. As the guards flew parallel to the bridge, I tossed fistfuls of jelly at them. It stuck to their wings, making it hard for them to flap. The guards wavered. They veered away, attempting to land safely elsewhere. I continued gliding faster than a charging cargabeast, all the way to the platform at the end of the bridge.

  That’s when I realized I had no idea how to stop.

  I tripped on the platform, flew headfirst, and tumbled down the stairs. I hit the bridge one level down, dazed. Before I could get up and run to the meeting place, I found myself surrounded by three Aviard women who’d heard me identify myself and weren’t waiting for the guards to recover. Talons raised, they advanced.

  I cowered, scrambling to get to my feet. Just before they reached me, I heard a shrill call. Perrin swooped down between me and the women, flapping his wings and shrieking. When the women paused, it bought me enough time. I reached into another pouch, pulled out three flashballs, and tossed them onto the stairs. Flash! A white cloud swallowed all four of us, allowing me to sneak around the coughing Aviards and continue down to the meeting place.