Night's Haunting (13 page)

"Right. Random burglaries, pickpocketing, that kind of thing. We organise the fences, create safe houses for thieves on the run, the basic functions any guild should provide. Keep things compartmentalised with the existing cells, but gradually bring things closer together as we start to gain pace."

Lucius began to smile too. "It could just work. It will be tough, but it could work."

"It needn't be that tough," Elaine said. "After all, we still have at least some of the resources and contacts of the old guild to fall back on, plus the knowledge and experience of the best thieves in the city."

"Well," Ambrose said, "count me in. What do you want from us, Elaine?"

"You were right about the markets and the square. So gather your kids, just a couple of teams made from the best, and start running pockets in the streets - Street of Dogs, Lantern Street, the places where there is healthy commerce and plenty of alleys to lose yourselves in. With practice, the kids will be able to alert you to a patrol before it gets within half a mile."

Lucius found himself enthused with the challenge. Building a new guild from scratch took imagination and experience, and while the grander plans were discounted or at least sidelined, they quickly had a framework of operations that could be enacted by a small number of thieves.

When Elaine finally called an end to the meeting, she caught Lucius' attention and bade him stay in the room with her for a moment longer.

Making sure that the door was firmly closed, Lucius turned to face her and, for a moment, they were both silent.

"I miss you," he said.

She smiled and crossed the few paces between them to embrace him. Resting her head on his shoulder, Elaine held him tight.

"You know I feel the same," she said. "But you also know what I have to do right now. I... I'm not saying the guild is more important..."

"I understand, Elaine, I really do. Whether the guild is more important or not isn't the issue. It is more important
right now
, and I do understand that."

"I do believe we can rebuild the guild," she said, moving away. "But it will be a lot harder than I let on to the others. I think they know that."

"They'll stand with you, whatever happens."

"Which is why they deserve my full attention. If that means I am less attentive elsewhere..."

"Really, Elaine, as I said, I understand. I know how hard this is for you. But we'll do this. We'll succeed. Whatever happens thereafter... we'll deal with it then."

"Thank you," she said. "I need you to do a couple of things for me."

"Name them."

"First, find Grennar or Sebastian. We need to get the beggars up and running again. They can do the same thing we are, start from scratch." She gave a short laugh. "I have a feeling they will find success quicker than we do."

"Consider it done. What else?"

"I never really understood what your other friends were and how they work. You have powers... well, I don't begin to understand them, and I don't know whether your other friends would be willing. But we could use any help they can bring."

Lucius grimaced, thinking immediately of Adrianna. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, he said, "It's possible... but unlikely. I'll do my best, but such help... well, it may come with a high price."

"I'll trust your judgement in the matter," Elaine said.

He nodded, aware she was placing no small measure of responsibility on his shoulders. Before he left, he cast one last, long look at her. He admired her, standing tall, though her guild was in pieces, arms defiantly crossed over her chest, a determined look on her face. He felt a longing in his heart, a need to sweep her up in his arms, to reassure her that they would come through this, that he could protect her from any who would dare harm her. He realised then that he cared for Elaine a great deal, and that she would forever have his support.

But he did not truly love her.

Forbeck stood just inches from the edge of the cliff, the harbour of Turnitia far below him. He could see the cranes and lifts that littered the cliffside, though they rested silent from their labours of hauling goods up from and down to the docks. There were no ships currently in the harbour to service.

Beyond the docks and piers, the water was calmed by the immense monolithic blocks that towered at the harbour's edge, almost as high as the cliffs on which he stood. Their method of construction was a mystery even to the greatest wizards of Vos and Pontaine, though it was generally agreed that the monoliths were ancient Old Race constructions. Together, they formed a complicated pattern that stood as a bulwark against the permanently raging ocean that lay just beyond.

On the cliffs, Forbeck could hear the perpetual storm that broke incessantly against the barrier, expending its energy in a fruitless effort to reach the harbour. For a thousand years, probably more, Forbeck reflected, these monoliths had stood against the sea, and they would likely be around for millennia more.

Forbeck ambled along the cliff's edge, lost in thoughts of old races, deep magics, and the formation of the world and universe. Here, right at the edge of land, where civilisation met the crashing torrent of endless waves, Forbeck loved to think, to plan, to theorise. Quite apart from his vocation as a Shadowmage, it was why he had first settled in Turnitia, a city ostensibly free and independent in deed as well as thought.

That had changed somewhat with the coming of the Vos Empire.

This was not the first time Vos had been heavy-handed toward the city, and he doubted it would be the last. The Shadowmages had suffered in the past, but they were wiser now. At some point, Vos would overreach itself, and that would be the time to move.

Forbeck slowed his pace as he approached a group of warehouses and frowned. Vos soldiers stood around the buildings, perhaps seeking to catch another thief.

Not wanting to be stopped and questioned, Forbeck turned and limped towards the city proper, faintly annoyed that his reverie had been disturbed. He picked up the barely cobbled path of Cliffside Way, ignoring the unwholesome odours that emanated from some of the terraced houses.

Another patrol turned a corner ahead of him, and started marching down the street. Thinking their presence and manner a little too coincidental, Forbeck turned abruptly and headed down one of the many alleys that ran between the terraced blocks. Behind him, he heard the unmistakable thuds of armoured men picking up their pace.

Once within the alley, Forbeck stopped and stood with his back flat against the stone wall. Within a single breath he had gathered the shadows about him. As the soldiers turned into the alley, he gave them a scornful look while they searched for him, his magically enhanced stealth rendering him invisible. After a few seconds, their sergeant ordered them forward, guessing their fugitive had run down the alley and was now in another street.

Forbeck allowed himself a quick smirk before he released the shadows about him and continued on his journey.

As soon as he stepped out of the alley, he sensed something was wrong.

Forbeck saw a cowled figure detach itself from the shadows of a rundown block of houses. He saw a flash of fine silks under heavy cloth, as well as a glimpse of a blade. Above all, he felt a surge of arcane power, just hovering at the edge of his attuned senses.

Deciding this was an encounter best avoided, Forbeck turned to head back down the alley, but saw another cloaked figure slowly walking towards him from the other end. This one had the suggestion of a woman in the way it carried itself and, again, he felt a surge of magical energy as it approached. When others arrived, seven in total, all wreathed in the same pale cloaks, Forbeck understood.

"So," he said. "You are here."

There was no reply as the figures closed in. As they approached, each figure raised their hands, and Forbeck felt a wave of power roll towards him. Leaning on his cane, he braced himself, but was still forced to take a step backwards. He felt the power build up within the cabal again, and he realised that they were not casting a spell as such, merely finding links between them that they could use to focus and magnify one another's energy.

"Fascinating," Forbeck said.

He closed his eyes briefly, calling upon his own magical reserves, then brought his cane down with a sharp rap. Fire erupted where he stood and radiated away from him at great speed, incinerating weeds and discarded parchment in its path. The cabal stopped, now standing just a few yards away. He felt a wave of power pulse from them once again, and watched it just roll over his flames, snuffing them out instantly.

Not even slowed down by his magic, the invisible wave of energy continued toward Forbeck and slammed into him with devastating force. He dropped to his knees. The pain, concentrated right into the centre of his mind, was nearly overwhelming.

Gritting his teeth, Forbeck slowly raised himself back to his feet. Looking up at the faceless figures of the cabal, he dimly began to formulate a plan. He doubted any one of them could best him in a duel, but somehow they had developed the ability to fuse their talents together, making them far more powerful than any one mage. However, every chain has a weak link...

Forbeck reached forward to unleash a bolt of arcane fire at the figure in front of him. It was a crude spell, but potent, and Forbeck was counting on its swiftness to beat any defence the cabal would have.

The bolt shot through the air, sizzling as it flew, leaving a smoky trail. Curving slightly as it neared its target, the spell suddenly sputtered and fizzled out. The wave of power that had annihilated the bolt hit Forbeck with a mighty crack that arched his back and dropped him to the floor.

As he struggled to open his eyes, the intense pain blocking all coherent thought, another wave rolled over him, then another, each one coming much quicker than the last, and each building to greater magnitude. Insensible, Forbeck rolled on the ground, only pure instinct driving him to move, to seek refuge.

The cabal resumed their slow, deliberate march towards the Shadowmage. As they built up the last wave of energy, the figures collectively sighed as the power flooded out of their bodies. The last wave smothered Forbeck, holding him in a rigid, pain-filled grip.

Raw arcane energy reduced Forbeck to dust.

As the cabal departed, the sea wind blew down the street, scattering the ashes. Within seconds, only his cane, sundered in two, remained.

Chapter Ten

While Grennar cut a beautiful, even faintly aristocratic figure in her long gown, Lucius appeared more as a rogue. He tried hard to ignore the glances he received as the two of them wound their way through the streets of Turnitia.

For her part, Grennar seemed not to notice, and held her head up high as if the streets belonged to her. Lucius had found her lurking near the Square of True Believers, watching the comings and goings of Vos officials around the Cathedral. During their quiet conversation, Grennar had made it clear that while her guildmaster had given up on the beggars, she most certainly had not, and she seemed pleased when Lucius had told her that efforts to rebuild the thieves' guild had begun.

Grennar was only too glad to take him to meet Sebastian, and Lucius was surprised to find himself being led up the hill to the eastern side of the city.

"What, you thought Sebastian made his home in some random alley, or in the sewers?" Grennar had asked. "He is probably richer than any thief."

Lucius doubted that, but didn't argue the issue. Instead, he let the beggar girl lead him to a small but very well-appointed house built within a stone's throw of the city's eastern gate.

As they entered the modest grounds of the estate, Grennar produced a large iron key and opened the front door, revealing a short hall and stairs. She indicated a door set to one side of the stairs, then left, closing the door behind her. Clearly, she had received instructions not to attend this meeting.

Coughing to announce his presence, Lucius entered the door.

A fireplace blazed in the centre of one wall, though the weather was by no means chill. Beside it was a single leather wingbacked chair, placed next to a small table on which Lucius could see an open bottle and glass filled with a deep red wine. Opposite the fireplace, within a wide bay window was Sebastian, stood over a desk and staring intently at an open book. He wore a tight fitting but exquisitely tailored tunic, and flicked over a page of his book as Lucius entered.

Books lined shelves along each wall and were piled on every available surface. Tables sagged under the weight of many tomes, and further piles on the floor reached Lucius' waist. There must have been several thousand in this place, ranging from small handbooks to massive volumes that would cover Sebastian's desk when opened.

"Do you like my library, Lucius?" Sebastian asked, without looking up.

"It's impressive."

"It's my passion," Sebastian said, turning to face Lucius. "The Harmonies of Artitucus, the seventeen surviving plays of Damans, the Kerberos observations of Brach, and Loom's Histories of the Vos-Speaking Peoples are all here. Treatises, atlases, encyclopaedias, and satires. I have even started collecting the comedies of Pontaine Treen.

"Finally I have the time to commit to my collection. It really is fascinating. For years, all this knowledge has been stored, uselessly, on these shelves. Now I can begin to enjoy them. I have been planning a trip across Pontaine, and maybe to Allantia, to track down some of the volumes I am missing."

"And what about your beggars?" Lucius asked.

Sebastian shook his head. "They are not mine any more."

"We are reviving the thieves' guild. We would like the beggars to be beside us. For mutual benefit, as always."

"You are on a fool's mission. Vos is too powerful, their stranglehold on the city too firm. One day, maybe, the guilds will rise again. But not in my lifetime. I have been guildmaster of the beggars for many years, Lucius. I have earned my retirement."

"We have adapted! Our guilds cannot function as they once did, true, but there are other ways of doing business. Start small again, like us. There may well be new opportunities that did not exist before. Vos will have its loopholes and blind spots - that is where thieves and beggars thrive. With or without you, the thieves
will
rise again. But it will be easier if the beggars are with us, gathering information in ways no one else can."