A few short blocks from Cinder’s home near the water the fire bells began to ring and the glow of a fire lit the sky. Fire could devastate a city, especially in the docks section where nearly every building was made solely of timber. “Let’s go by there!” Dirk said excitedly, I love to see them work.” Amber said nothing but Cinder was curious. A raging fire in the city could be catastrophic, so why was the honest and sweet Dirk so excited and wanting to get closer to it.
In a few moments they came within sight of the tall burning building and Cinder spied men and women floating in midair or flying around the building, half a dozen of them. Rays of icy cold came from fingers and shot web-like strands that melted into raining mists. And magical walls of water would form above the building and rain down. Soon the fire was but a foul smelling memory.
“Wizards?” Cinder asked in awe as Dirk led the women back along their path into the more affluent parts of the city.
“Yes,” Amber said. “Many of the city’s mages and priests volunteer to serve on a fire brigade of sorts. They understand a fire out of control could soon reach their towers or temples, and though most of those have magic wards to prevent fire, their owners would probably not want to test such wards.”
“Oh and they are paid by the city for their service,” Dirk scoffed. “They don’t do it out of the goodness of their hearts, I am sure.”
“You never can tell what is in someone’s truest heart, Dirk,” Cinder said, holding him close and again they strolled on in silence. Amber walked nearly halfway to The Unicorn’s Run before stopping at the gate of a rich estate. A plaque on the wall read: “Jezrah Parker, Judge.” She was admitted and shown inside without a glance back.
Dirk shook his head. “A judge,” he said in a disgusted tone.
“He’s only human. Everyone needs companionship,” Cinder said.
“Then let them get it the normal way. They shouldn’t buy it. Why would they even want to be with someone who is there only for the money?”
Cinder shrugged. “It’s not like that, Dirk. Not many men are like you and can get any woman they want.”
“I can’t get any woman I want.”
Cinder looked objectionably at him. “Nonetheless, maybe they just want to be seen with an attractive, well-dressed woman. It isn’t always sex. Many times not at all.”
”I don’t want to talk about it!” Dirk said and they walked on silently, being the last two to arrive for their meeting. The other three companions smiled when Dirk and Cinder stepped in, and were sitting in the corner booth they had designated as ‘their’ place since first going there. After ordering a round of drinks and greeting each other, Selric eagerly began.
“Here’s what I found out,” he started. “It seems that one of my contacts has seen the thief near the palace at least half-a-dozen times, always looking around suspiciously. Then he scales the outer wall, avoids the guards and traps set for such intruders, and climbs the palace itself. So, I thought we could cover the palace and hopefully grab him before he gets over the wall. The temples might be random, but his visits to the palace seem not to be. Remember though, we do not want to chase him inside. We’d find ourselves in the dungeon if we get caught in there. My source also gave a description matching the person Melissa saw: little guy, big cloak.”
“What’s the plan?” Dirk and Melissa asked almost simultaneously.
“I thought we would put Mel on the roof here,” he said, since they were very near the palace; just down the street in fact. “Fiona, Dirk, and I will spread out around the palace and wait for him. Maybe Melissa will see him and she can yell to direct us in a coordinated effort.”
“He’s never struck before midnight, but he’s unpredictable,” Fiona added. “I think we should go out at, let’s say eleven. Any comments?” No one spoke. They sat and, except for Cinder, drank sparingly, passing the time in quiet conversation and dancing, The Run having musicians within most nights to entertain guests. Dirk and Selric danced with each of the three women at least once: Selric with Melissa under Dirk’s supervision. Dirk spent most of his floor time with Melissa who felt awkward and openly hated dancing: in fact, she would not dance unless taught how first, afraid to embarrass herself. The other three friends, all skilled in the art, spent the night providing Dirk and Melissa with instruction, Selric and Fiona or Selric and Cinder on the floor demonstrating every step patiently for Dirk and Melissa to follow. At eleven bell tolls from the clock, Melissa went up to the roof and the others went outside and picked their own spots strategically around the palace wall. Cinder, with her friends leaving, spent her time with some of the pleasure girls she had befriended.
Melissa paced the perimeter of the roof, bow in hand. She had her hair tied back in one tail so that her ears were uncovered and she could thus hear more easily, though she did not believe he would come that night. None of them did. But they had to wait that and every night until he did come. But in the end, they were not disappointed. That first night, after one bell, he came. He had not struck, but he did come to deposit loot from an earlier haul. Melissa did not see him initially: she had been on the other side of the building when he passed below, near Fiona.
Fiona pulled the mace from her belt and closed in on the skulking figure as he slipped through the deep shadows, but he stole around a corner and over the wall before she could seize him. Selric, perched on a second story ledge, saw the thief enter the palace grounds and he jumped down and, against his own advice, climbed quickly after him. It was only a short run to the wall of the palace proper and Selric crossed it so quickly that he was not seen. In the towering multitude of spires, he saw a flitting figure disappear over a rooftop high above. Selric located proper handholds, started his ascension and just as he topped the crest, he saw the cloak disappearing; this time over another roof of the same height, but many ledges and peaks lay between the climbers.
Selric danced across the roofs, dodging wire alarms and razor blade barriers set in tracks, designed to funnel intruders to specific points which were always under observation. It was hard to move against these grooves, but his acrobatic ability gave Selric enough skill to do so, albeit slowly, and he did not think he had yet been seen. As Selric came hurriedly around another corner, he almost stumbled over a figure caught totally by surprise as he sat hunched over sacks filled with stolen relics. The thief drew a small blade and tried to stick Selric in the leg. Before the thief could strike, Selric kicked the weapon from his hand and, in the same motion, kicked him under the jaw. The little man was sent sprawling backward, narrowly missing a line of the razor blades.
The thief reached over and purposely pulled one of the warning wires. Loud bells began to ring and, in the confusion, he tried to escape. Selric was on the thief and soon had him in the immobilizing hold he had learned in the East, just as a trapdoor opened less than fifty feet from where they were. Several guards crawled out, crossbows in hand. Though Selric identified himself and his prisoner, both were taken roughly into custody and down several flights of stairs before being separated. Selric was soon questioned, the thief identified, and Selric released.
The great thief’s name was Nathan Weathersby and he had been burglarizing Andrelia for years, noble homes at first, and then temples. In the end Nathan would be sentenced to several years in jail, his personal wealth confiscated by the government and everything stolen promptly returned. As for the group, they were given the offered rewards in a ceremony the following day attended by many nobles of the court and the clergy of all the temples and cathedrals that had fallen victim to the outlandish thief.
Ponjess Thunderstaff, King’s Advisor and wizard renowned, had personally questioned Selric and when satisfied after a thorough mind probe he had the rest of the group brought into the palace as well where they were thanked and directed to return for the ceremony the following day.
“It’s seems congratulations are in order,” Ponjess said, examining the group closely as footmen came forth bearing great gifts. Along with gemstones an
d coins as monetary rewards: there was an item for each member, chosen by Ponjess himself from the cache of Nathan or from the royal treasury.
Judging by her state when she arrived, Ponjess gave Cinder a bottle which magically produced vintage wine upon command, remaining ever full. As Dirk thought how this would keep her permanently pickled and useless, he was handed a cloak, the one Nathan wore, which magically afforded its wearer expert agility. Fiona received an ancient Dwarven ring that granted its wearer the protection of steel armor without actually needing to wear any. Melissa was given an enchanted longbow with runes of a silvery Elven metal, called mithril, engraved very deeply into the wood, seeming to blend with it, becoming one. “It was crafted by Elven masters over a thousand years ago,” Ponjess said when she looked strangely at it. He handed Melissa a flat box with a hinged lid he stated was for them all. She opened the lid and saw half a dozen small vials of magical potions with labels such as strength, bravery, anti-poison, and three of healing.
Selric was given something entirely different. He was granted a writ excusing him and his family from any taxes due on all owned establishments for one full year. Selric was elated, mostly because he would finally please his father and grandfather both. He would save them thousands of crowns in the coming months and he hurried home with the news.
6
The wind was strong this night and the gusts help blow the stagnancy from the catacomb of ghostly, often dilapidated buildings called the Dock District. The Fiend moved, Its face always to the wind, hoping to pick up the scent of prey. But as It tried stealing past a gang of half-a-dozen thugs, the Fiend was spotted.
“Hey buddy! Who do you think you’re supposed to be, over there sneakin’ ‘round?” one of them asked. There were five men and one woman and It smelled her immediately. She felt fear creep over her like a slow tide. To her, the world stopped; all else but the Fiend seemed to vanish. Two of the brigands moved toward It, threateningly. The Fiend did not move, but Its eyes flared at her in recognition.
“Well? Answer me,” the man said, three others joining the first two as they circled It. “Come on, Trish,” he said and when the two nearest the Fiend turned to check on the location of their compatriots, the first lost his head to a slashing blade, and the other found himself trying to hold in his intestines after the disemboweling strike he never witnessed. The other three thugs froze as the stranger grew into a larger-than-human form. Before they could turn and flee It was on them, It’s eyes full of hate and fire, Its face twisted and angry as if wracked by the wickedness inside. The Fiend caught the leader under the chin with Its curved saber; the thrust lifting him clear off the ground before the blade erupted from his head, taking the top half of his skull with it. With a kick, the Fiend freed It’s blade from the dead man and eagerly pursued the others. It leapt onto the nearest victim and with a great hug snapped his ribs like kindling, then spun and hurled Its axe at the last brigand, catching him in the back before he could flee even half-a-block. The man fell, sprawling, into the street, wounded and feigning death.
The Fiend looked for the female, but she had slipped away. It could smell her: fear dripped from her like blood from a wounded stag. As It was about to move into the nearby abandoned building in search of her, It’s keen ears detected soft breathing. It followed the sound to one of the fallen thieves. Taking the dagger from the thug’s own sheath, the Fiend slit his throat and his blood filled the gutter in which he lay.
The other three, being clear examples of the Fiend’s strength and fierceness, were dumped into the nearest sewer opening to be consumed by the beasts sometimes found there, least of which were the great crocodiles. Then It sped into the nearby building and picked up the female’s scent. It followed a winding trail which led up some stairs, then down, and down once more into the basement of an adjacent building, entrance garnered through a hole in the basement wall. There It found her hiding beneath a pile of broken furniture. Like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, Trish lay quivering, unable to break her terror and flee any further. It hurled the wood aside and with a great claw reached down and lifted her by the neck. He pulled out three leather straps and bound and gagged her before placing her into a large sack.
The Fiend carried her back to the alley and disappeared down into the sewers. There, It dragged the men to separate areas then retrieved his victim, proceeding home through the tunnels. It knew them as well as the rooftops and was rarely bothered by the crocodiles and things more sinister when It traveled them. The Fiend reached Its lair and entered the hidden stone door that It had had a dwarven craftsman create for It shortly after arriving in the city. The Fiend was in his human disguise at the time and destroyed the little creature upon completion of the work. The Fiend often wore human form; it was the only way It could travel under the all-revealing sun, concealing Its evil as well as Its truer form.
It took Its prize inside and laid her on the dirt floor. There would be no need to go upstairs. Instead, the Fiend bound her with manacles that were set in the wall. It drove them there when It had captured an elf maiden months back. She was so beautiful and smelled so alluring that the Fiend hoped to keep her forever, despising, yet drawn to her more than It had been to any others. But after only four days It’s lust overcame It, and the Fiend bit the female, her immortal blood so intoxicating that the Fiend consumed it all. It had longed for elvenkind since, but they were too rare and their magic likely too powerful. But It would certainly take the risk if the opportunity arose once more.
When Dirk arrived at Cinder’s, she was dressed in a long, flowing dark blue gown, decorated in gold with diamond chips, the fabric swishing against the floor as she moved. Her hair was pulled up and back under a large bow, and the thick curls fell evenly down her back like a dark waterfall.
“Where are you going?” he asked after walking inside and closing the door.
“To a ball,” she said, kissing him then rushing back in front of the mirror. “How do I look?” she asked, ecstatic and her smile showing as much. To Dirk, she seemed flawless; a pampered noble brat.
“You look nice,” he said quietly, almost pouting. “Who are you going with? Do you know his name?” he quipped sarcastically.
“Mm-mm,” Cinder said, primping herself, constantly finding something on her appearance that was not “just-right.” “He’s a noble. He’s charming and handsome. Maybe you know him: Selric Stormweather?” She laughed and turned to look at Dirk, her eyes flashing with incredible beauty, joy, and playfulness. “He bought me this dress. Isn’t it marvelous?”
“It’s very pretty,” Dirk said quietly. “I would’ve bought you one. You never said you wanted one.”
“Did you want to go out?” Cinder asked with sweet sincerity, noticing for the first time that Dirk was dressed finer than normal. “I’m sorry. He asked me last week, two days after we caught...” a knock interrupted her words. Dirk, still standing near the door, opened it. A man in a servant’s uniform stood there. He looked strangely at Dirk.
“Is this the residence of Miss Cinder Starshine?” he asked, collecting his wits and clearing his throat politely.
“Just a moment. I’ll see if the Lady is accepting visitors,” Dirk said smartly, shutting the door with a slam. When he turned, Cinder was right behind him, cloak in hand.
“Please?” she asked. “That will be the coach.” Dirk placed the cloak around her shoulders as she spun about and Cinder clasped it with a large jeweled brooch. “Good-bye, love.” She kissed his cheek and stood waiting for him to open the door, which he did with a sigh. Dirk followed her out and she handed him the key to the door. When he finished locking it, she was already outside, being helped up into the carriage. The driver then climbed aboard. Cinder’s hand stuck out the window and Dirk firmly pressed the key into her palm. “This is my first ball,” she said. “Be happy for me.” Dirk smiled as sincerely as possible and stepped back.
“Have fun,” he said, waving.
“I will. Okay, driver,” she called and the coach pul
led away, then stopped again at Cinder’s call. “Dirk,” she yelled. “Come ride with me. We’ll take you to Melissa and Fiona’s. You shouldn’t be alone.” Dirk climbed inside and gave the driver the directions. He sat down on the padded bench across from Cinder, looking at her as she gazed out the window. She was beaming, her radiance seeming to light the dark interior of the carriage; the most beautiful creature Dirk had ever imagined, seeming much like an angel. Dirk turned and watched the streets roll by.
“What did you want?” she asked.
“Nothing special. I just haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, still looking out the window. “I’ve been busy. You know, straightening my money away and stuff.” Dirk had not seen Cinder since they received their reward, but had been with Fiona and Melissa twice that week. He was no longer interested in the cloak he had gotten as reward. He wore it for several days, leaping and flipping as he had often seen Selric do in training, but the delight wore off. When he went to sell it at Duvall’s Magic Emporium, he was offered twenty thousand crowns for it, and he no longer cared to be agile any longer: it seemed he had gotten a very expensive prize. He did not tell Cinder, not that night.
When Dirk looked back at her, Cinder was leaning forward on the edge of her seat, smiling with a wicked gleam in her eye. “I know you haven’t been around and I bet you know some of the things I miss.” She took his hand and pulled him over next to her. Cinder leaned over, attacking the buttons on his pants. “I’m sorry I’m going out. Let me make it up to you.” She soon had all four buttons undone through a remarkable feat of manual dexterity, using only one hand, steadying herself with the other by gripping his leg and keeping herself up and her dress unwrinkled. Dirk did not touch her, afraid he might mess her, and said not a word, feeling uncomfortable and selfish, even though he had never asked her to do anything.
By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought) Page 20