Thieves' Race

by Isaac Padgett

  I looked at him and saw the look of hope mixed with one of sadness and knew I couldn't say no to this man, "I'll do whatever I can to help, Nick. Just say the word. Anything I can do is yours."

  Nick sighed, happy to know that his plan was accepted but knowing it might be futile nonetheless. He nodded towards me and said, "Go ahead and get some sleep, Ayden," he nodded towards another tent, hidden like the first, "We have watches set up with a few of the others who stay here, so no need to worry about anything tonight. Just relax, and get as much of your strength back as possible."

  I nodded and tried to stand but found that my legs wouldn't support my weight anymore. As embarrassing as it was, Nick had to pick me up and carry me to a tent.

  The last thing I remember before drifting off was seeing him shake his head sadly and say, "It's a shame another young one is stuck here. How long will this one last…."

  7

  Aether

  It always turns out that the day that's going to change your life is the day that seems like the least important at the beginning. The day that did this for me started out as a completely normal day. The sun was shining through a thin expanse of clouds, and birds sang and flew through the air—nothing to even slightly give me any idea whatsoever of what might be happening elsewhere.

  Ever since Jack had died and I had gotten stronger, my parents were less inclined to give me trouble. I don't know if it was because of his death, and they felt sorry for me or the fact that I could now take care of and defend myself. Either way, as long as I kept to myself, they left me well enough alone. Even my mother had stopped standing at my doorway, staring worriedly at me. Now she just watched over me from a distance.

  Things with Tom were speeding up a lot lately. In fact, just the other day, he kissed me, and I felt guilty afterward, trying to picture how it would have been if it was Jack instead. I knew it was wrong to compare the two, but part of me couldn't help it. My heart and mind still yearned for Jack, even as my common sense told me to be with Tom.

  I tripped on the way out the door and had to catch myself before falling headlong into a pile of refuse left on my doorstep. Ever since I took care of the bully problem a while back, they tended to leave me gifts and surprises while never directly confronting me. I told no one about it because, as only a woman in the village, my claim wouldn't amount to much against four boys with no witnesses to support me. Tom was too likely to knuckle under, no matter how he thought he felt about me. He just wasn't that strong-willed of a person; anyone could see that.

  My hands danced across my body, checking and rechecking every knife I had concealed, making sure they were all in place and secure. With that knowledge, I scanned the area around me and noticed, with just a little bit of dismay, that Tom was walking up to my house.

  The instant he saw me, he smiled and waved like a man who had lost his mind. With a sigh, I slowed down and let him catch up with me.

  The smile he gave was dazzlingly white, "Hey Aether, I took some time off when there was a lag in horse-work to come see you. I thought you might want some company and also, well, I wanted to see you. I had a question to ask you." He scuffed his feet against the ground and looked down, a red blush spreading down his neck and most likely all across his chest.

  Hesitating to ask, I thought I already knew the question he would ask and wasn't sure how I would respond, "Yes?"

  He looked around, his easy-going mood disappearing into one of reluctance and embarrassment, "I was just wondering, you know if maybe you would want to, you know, walk out with me? Officially and all of that."

  The eager look on his face, that hopeful light in his eyes... I couldn't say no to that and break his heart. I knew that sooner or later, I'd have to move on from Jack and try to be happy. "Uh, yeah, sure I- I guess so."

  His face fell a little at my lack of enthusiasm, but he was still practically bouncing with joy. "Great! I have a picnic planned and everything. Tomorrow at lunch if you're free? It'll be great! I'll get the stuff ready; you don't have to do anything at all!" and he took off running back home, presumably to get the supplies needed for the picnic.

  With a sigh, I leaned against a wall and slid down until I was sitting, "What have I done? What am I going to do? I miss Jack..."

  Jack

  The war council, or rather, the pathetic excuse we had for one that is, met the next day. It included myself, Nick, Olive, a new couple whose names they wouldn't share, and an old veteran named Josh. All in all, it was a pretty small and pathetic-looking group, especially knowing what we had to face.

  "Alright, folks. Here's what we know so far," Nick seemed the natural leader, so he was in charge of the meeting, "This fat guy, the one that runs amuck here, seems to only have power depending on the number of hounds he has with him. When they die, he seems to become a tad weaker. Josh told us that, and I suppose he can explain."

  Josh gave a soft nod and spoke in a gravelly voice, one finger tracing a scar down his cheek, "When I first got here, I met up with a few folks. We armed ourselves with some wood and crude stone weapons and went hunting. Trapped one we found scouting alone, and we were hitting it while it couldn't move. That fat guy showed up. I think I'm the only one that noticed it, but when we killed the beast, he seemed to stagger, weaker than a moment before. So I'm certain if we kill enough hounds, he'll be easy to handle. And he can only bring so many over at a time."

  I interrupted softly, "How do we know that he can only bring a few over at a time? What if he floods Purgatory with enough hounds to kill us all in a giant mass of the beasts?"

  Olive got a frightened look on her face, and Nick hurried to smooth it over, "If Satan sent too many hounds over, it opens the ability for God to send his servants. Satan has a little leeway before God can intervene. And it seems like he pushed the limit too far; those arrows you were given are perfect for our plan, almost too perfect. I think someone upstairs has been watching and waiting for the opportunity to help."

  Josh nodded and continued, "Like I was saying, I believe he has at most twelve hounds with him and a handful more scouting around. If we can take out those scouts, getting into the main force will be a cinch. Ayden has fourteen arrows, and Olive, I'm told, can rip them apart if given the time. Our jobs are to let these two have the time to take 'em out. Is that understandable? Even if it means our deaths, we'll be making this a better place for everyone else. Not a lot better, but it will be worth it."

  Everyone nodded, and Nick started handing out weapons. Crude stone swords and wooden clubs were all people really got, though I kept a hold of my bow, and Olive didn't take anything. She flexed her hands and looked at her nails, sharpened for a reason I didn't want to know.

  "Wait a minute. Why should the boy get the bow? How do we know the kinda shot he is? He's barely half my age; I have more experience and practice than he does." The un-named man spoke up.

  Without letting anyone speak, I whipped an arrow out, nocked it, and fired, shearing the tail of a bandanna hanging from the tent about fifty yards away, all in the span of a few seconds. Without a word, I met his gaze and held it, silently daring him to do better.

  The man held up his hands and nodded respectfully, and I went to collect the arrow. There wasn't enough for me to risk wasting one.

  Nick called out softly, "All right guys, now that that is settled, let's move out! We got some hounds to kill!" With a small cheer, we all took off into the woods, though we all knew that it wouldn't be that easy. Sometimes though, you just had to hope and pray that things would go your way. It was evident that everyone, aside from Olive, was spending most of their time praying.

  8

  Aether

  This had to be the most awkward picnic I could ever imagine. Tom tried in vain to bring up topics he thought would interest me, but all he knew enough about was horses, and the topic held no interest for me. Once he realized that it wasn't working, he tried the romantic approach, even going so far as trying to feed me a grape, but he stopped short when I glared at
him.

  "Look, Aether, I'm trying really hard here to let you know how I feel, but you keep seeming to give me the cold shoulder. I know you had some feelings for Jack and that his death was really hard on you, but he isn't coming back. He's dead, and I just want you to be happy. I want to be able to make you happy if I can. And if you just give me a chance, I am sure that I can do it. But you have to let me; otherwise, this will go nowhere."

  His words hit me in the face like a slap of cold water, unexpected and kind of painful. "Tom...I know-"

  He cut me off with a raised hand and a hurt look and stood to start gathering up the food. Looking past him, I saw a large curl of smoke snaking up from the village, "Tom, look!"

  "Aether, just stop it, okay? It's fine. I understand. I'm just not as good as-" Tom started his pity party, and I knew I wouldn't have time to listen to it all....or any of it.

  "Tom, shut up and look behind you!" I yelled at him and took off towards the village, dirt puffing up in clouds behind me. It took him a few moments to understand what the trail of smoke meant for the village, but I could hear him start to run after me when he did.

  "Aether, go straight to the square and hide! I'll join the soldiers and protect you from the raiders! You don't need to worry about a thing!" And then he tripped and rolled for a few feet before coming to a complete stop in the middle of the trail.

  I held back a laugh at his idiocy and bent my head, trying to put more speed into my run, needing to get back as fast as possible to save my village, my people, my family. I couldn't let another die like Jack died.

  The outskirts of the village were torn apart from the raiding party; most of the poor quarter was in shambles. From the standard that was lying on the ground, I could see that the raiding party was once more the same band that had killed my Jack. That same wolf's head on green cloth haunted my dreams since almost a year before. The raiding party's leader stood about twenty yards away from the first fired building, watching the attack that his men were accomplishing.

  With a run and short leap, I was on his back, a dagger slashing through the skin under his chin, blood gushing out to drench my hand.

  The rest of the battle went by with a blur, my knives lashing out and catching surprised raiders where they least expected it. At one point, I had to spin away from one of the village soldiers, who looked at me with a shocked expression, which almost got him killed. A thrown knife caught the raider who was about to deliver a crushing blow to his side, forcing them down to their knees, where a hasty sword blow cut off their head.

  The battle was over soon enough, with a few villagers laying groaning, but none dead. All the raiders of the large party were killed or mortally wounded, however, and when I saw that, I sank to my knees, gasping, trying to catch my breath. As much practice as I had done, I still wasn't prepared for how tiring a real battle would be.

  At one point, while waiting for the water bucket to come around, I felt a hand on my shoulder, briefly squeezing in approval, and I looked up to see Gregory smile grimly and nod at me, "Good job, lass. You helped save the village, and I thank you for that. You made me proud to say that I trained you." And then he hurried away to help pry dented armor off some of the villagers who were wounded.

  "Would Jack be proud of me as well? That's... that's what's important..." And then I blacked out.

  Jack

  We broke down into groups, trying to sneak through the woods as quietly as possible. Olive and I were each a little ways away from the group, as we could take on a few of the hounds by ourselves. The rest were relying on being able to gang up on a single hound and take it out with sheer numbers...not that we really had any.

  The lack of movement in this land was helpful for once, making it easier to spot the flaming hounds. They would scout along the paths in pairs, one with their nose to the ground with the other's in the air, sniffing out any lost or wandering souls.

  This newest pair was closer to Olive, and as I glanced over to make sure she saw them, she nodded towards me. Her hands curled, and I swear, her nails grew into claws, and her teeth sharpened to points. I didn't have time to stop and watch her fight, though the group relied on me to keep moving forward.

  The sound of her fighting echoed a little too loudly around the trees, drawing another pair of dogs to our position. My arrows sliced through the air smoothly, taking their lives before they could join the fray.

  Looking back, Olive smiled at me, blood from the hounds coating her lips. For half a breath, I could have sworn she was about to come after me, but the blood-lust left her eyes, leaving her looking confused.

  Nick called out softly, "Let's go, you two. There are a few more scouts to take out and then the main camp. Don't stop just yet. There is a lot of work left ahead of us. There will be plenty of time to rest later."

  The small group followed behind us slowly, fear etched into their faces, making them flinch at every strange sound.

  Even though they had all been in fights and battles, the stakes for this war were so much higher. From all the denizens of this place had told me, you die here, and there's nothing to look forward to.

  The main camp was deep in the woods, and we had to face down quite a few more scouting parties of hounds. We left a handful of people behind, either nursing their wounds or passed on.

  As we got closer to the camp, the snuffling noises and growls got louder and more noticeable. I turned to wave the group in, wanting to close in so we weren't as spread out for the scouts to catch us.

  The hounds were on us faster than we thought would be possible, with only Olive's actions of leaping in the way saving us all. They appeared from the trees around us as if they had been waiting for us to clump together.

  One jumped onto her back while another went for her throat. My arrow took the one on her back in a soft spot where the spine meets the skull while she wrestled with the one in front of her.

  Nick and Josh stumbled back and tried to defend themselves with the crude weapons and barely held the beasts at bay. Two of my arrows each took a hound's life quickly, though it was often hard to get a shot. One of them got between our defenses and leaped through the air, ripping out the throat of the woman whose name I still don't know and now never will. The moment he saw this, her husband went berserk, leaping at the hounds and taking down two by himself, his club slamming down to crush their heads repeatedly before being overwhelmed.

  We seemed hard-pressed, hounds tearing down the handful of people we had recruited, and we fell like wheat before a scythe. All seemed lost when, all of a sudden, the clearing was empty. Laughter resounded in the trees around us, and we all glanced around to try to discern where it came from.

  My fingers danced along the nocks of my remaining arrows, counting to see just how many I had left, "I have five arrows left; we have to make them count for something."

  The fat man who had greeted me at the beginning of my time in Purgatory strode out from the trees with two of his hounds at his feet. His face bore a pained expression, and he kept the dogs partly behind him, "Look, fellas, we have a problem here. I can't let you get away with this, you know. I was content to let you live out your miserable existences here alone, but now you've forced my hand. I'm going to have to kill you, and I will most certainly enjoy it. So why not just sit back and take the consequences of your foolishness?"

  "Quit yer talking, ye fat tub a'lard," Josh had a slight Irish accent when mad, it seemed, and he appeared to be livid with anger right now. We had lost so many people, and over the time spent here, they had become our friends. We were all angry, "We know yer power be reliant on yer hounds, and those be yer last two. So shut the Hell up and deal with it. Ye lost. Game over."

  The pained look turned to one of anger, and he stepped forward, giving me a clear shot at one of the hounds. In a moment, I had the arrow whistling through the air to pierce the dog's side. With a wail, the fat man fell to one knee, face turned up in one of pain and fear, "How did you do this? Where did you get those damned arrows?"r />
  With a smile, I drew another arrow and nocked it, drawing a bead on the fat man's nose, "Not damned arrows. Divine ones." The arrow leaped through the air and slammed into a tree trunk that had been behind where the man was.

  He had disappeared, as well as his last hound, in a cloud of smoke, but this time, I had a feeling he wasn't going to be back very soon.

  Nick swept me up in a crushing hug, threatening to break my spine, and declared happily, "You did it, boy! You saved us all! We beat the bastard, we did!!!"

  I nodded but looked over at Josh, who looked back at me with a sober expression. He bent and picked up one of the corpses of one we lost and started to carry it away. I did likewise with another, and we proceeded to bury all of them in a way befitting brave soldiers.