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CADE

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“Who puts a dragon statue next to a sculpture of a naked lady?” Cade asked.

Honestly, it was a question he didn’t expect his best friend, Orro, to answer. The two of them waited behind a tree where the brooding assassin meditated in the relative darkness of the woodland.

The silence of the slumbering forest gnawed at Cade’s patience. He tugged at the brown tunic he wore under his cloak, eager to shift the cold sweat that had accumulated there, and shook out his wrists in a vain attempt to quiet his unsteady nerves. He tapped on the dagger in the sheath on his thigh and another on his boot to assure himself they were still there in case things went wrong.

The moments before a heist began always left him a little on edge—especially when the stakes were this high.

Through gaps in the thick brush, Cade studied the statue of the goddess Scorn. He could make out just enough detail through the darkness of a moonless night lit only by the fires raging at the entrance of her temple just beyond it. He wouldn’t exactly call it art, but he wasn’t the expert. Thieves like him usually focused on the expensive-looking things and didn’t ask questions.

He absently massaged his left shoulder, where his near-constant companion Bunny usually sat. Now, however, the little dragonling was sneaking into position for his special role. It had taken days of convincing the rest of his team to let their resident dragonling in on this job, given that he tended to set things on fire at the worst possible moment, but this time that would be to their advantage.

They couldn’t see Bunny’s raw potential, but that was fine. They would see his grandeur soon enough.

“I’m serious, Orro,” Cade continued, shifting uneasily as his deep voice broke the woodland’s silence. “Why decorate your temple with a lovely lady in all her glory, only to ruin it by having a dragon hover over her like some overprotective hen?”

Cade waited for his best friend to rise to the bait of his casual banter, but the muscular warrior merely took in a sharp breath and meditated harder. The young thief didn’t miss it when Orro’s hand instinctively shifted to the thick pommel of his broken sword, his gloved fingers squeezing the comforting leather grip.

Even without an awakened core, Orro held an aura of quiet lethality. Cade had met countless core users during his travels with his mentor, Hugh, who had a knack for finding strong fighters and convincing them to join their team. Those lucky enough to have an awakened core ended up choosing various paths of the elements, from fire to wind and even—for the truly talented—shadow.

However, Cade had only ever met one other silver ranker besides Hugh who was able to shift the gravity of his immediate surroundings to devastating effect. That particular gentleman had used his wondrous gift to control over a dozen tinctures and concocted the most spectacular cocktails Cade had ever tasted, only to then crush a man’s spine like it was made of rotten peas in the same breath.

But even the silver rankers didn’t have a predatory aura that came close to Orro’s.

The assassin was a ruthless hunter, born of darkness and steel. His cloth mask and thick scarf were both dyed in a shade darker than midnight, which only furthered this dangerous mystique.

Though Cade would never admit it out loud, he thought the whole get-up was ridiculous. Besides, he was fairly certain Orro only did it to make the barmaids swoon.

Girls loved a brooding badass.

Despite Orro’s silence, Cade continued. “Did the sculptor think she would like to have a mythical beast breathing down her neck? Talk about drafts of air where you least expect them.”

He sighed dramatically at this clear oversight from the long-dead artists.

“Will you focus? It’s nearly dawn.” Orro snapped.

Cade knew his best friend always got like this right before a job, and that was exactly why he prodded the man this way.

Orro needed to relax.

Tension bred mistakes. It was something his buddy hadn’t learned over their years together, running one heist after another, so Cade had opted for a different approach to make his point.

Besides, it was fun to mess with someone who brooded this much.

“I don’t know which part is worse: the sculpture, or the fact that Scorn’s followers said, ‘yeah, that’ll show the people what our goddess stands for.’ I mean, is Scorn the naked woman, or the dragon?”

“Probably the dragon,” Orro muttered.

“I wonder if Bunny will look like that one day.” Cade quipped. “The dragon, not the lady, to be clear.”

Orro scoffed and finally looked up. “Doubtful. If he ever grows that big, the world is doomed.”

Cade smirked.

Despite their lighthearted banter, Cade’s eyes roamed the surrounding landscape for any threats or factors that might ruin their plan. He scanned the cliff top edged by an evergreen forest barely tall enough to mask their current position in the shadows. The first cries of the birds as they spotted the sun in the east stole his attention for a breath, but he returned his focus to the temple of Scorn.

Cade decided it was an affront to architectural enthusiasts everywhere. It was like the goddess’ acolytes couldn’t decide whether they wished to go with an imposing or regal appearance, and so failed miserably at both.

He sighed. Truly, art was dead and all they had left to live for was cheap ale and lining one’s purse with gold.

Lots of gold.

“It’s time,” Orro said suddenly, rising from their nook behind a large pine tree.

Cade nodded, and in an instant, his demeanor shifted. He was all business, ready for their heist and keenly aware of the world around him.

They stepped onto the rickety cobblestone path that led up to the temple, careful not to upset the loose rocks underfoot. The trees above him bent and swayed in a gentle western breeze that carried the faint traces of burnt incense from the temple. Sunlight through gaps in the canopy behind them glinted across dew gathered on the sparse patches of grass amidst the road. Cade went over what he might say when confronted but quickly discarded all of his options.

He worked best in the moment, anyway.

“Oy! Scorn! I beseech thee! Come, and have your way with us humble travelers! We seek solace and your guidance, for we have been wronged by this world!” Cade yelled as they neared the thick obsidian doors and charred sconces of the front entrance.

The young thief briefly appreciated how the dawn’s light captured the golden filigree that swept across the black stone that composed the temple. While most would’ve looked at these jagged lines and seen a symbol of hope amid darkness, Cade only saw an untapped opportunity.

Maybe if he played his cards right…

“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” Orro hissed under his breath.

His question returned Cade’s focus to the present. Orro’s gloved grip tightened on the pommel of his blade until his knuckles cracked. Cade tilted his head to the side to take in his friend. He grinned and leaned in.

“You’re blushing under that cute mask of yours, aren’t you?” Cade gestured at his worn traveler’s garb. “What, are you embarrassed by all this raw man standing before you?”

“...you’re an idiot,” Orro replied, but a smile crinkled at the edge of his eyes despite his best efforts to hide it.

He widened his stance and signaled to Cade that something caught his attention ahead of them. The ornately carved stone groaned as the front doors creaked open on ancient iron hinges. A balding head peeked out, and the man blinked as the first lights of dawn struck him in the eyes. Cade and Orro, now illuminated by the sun’s sleepy rays, waited. Cade nonchalantly tucked his hands into his pockets, his right hand twiddling the small glass orb he hid there. His fingertips traced the magical runes etched into the tiny device with practiced movements.

Though currently deactivated, the weight of it brought him a little comfort. If everything went to shit, this was his failsafe.

“Can… can I help you, travelers?” The middle-aged man asked.

When neither of them attacked or spoke, the black-clothed acolyte stepped out. He wore the familiar raven-wing attire of a standard follower of Scorn.

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Cade had to look up into the tall man’s squinty gaze. The trollish man was easily a head taller than him and had more girth than the plain black robes he wore knew what to do with.

“Are you here to devote yourselves to the most excellent Scorn? We’re always accepting new followers!” The man promoted enthusiastically. His protruding belly quivered slightly as he practically jumped up and down in anticipation.

Cade schooled his expression and went to work.

“Oh, my fellow scorned, we are indeed here to witness the grandeur of your goddess. We are, in fact, seeking to bow before all of your temple’s wonders. Will you show us the way?” Cade asked, his voice forcefully sincere as he met the man’s gaze. “And may I ask you your name, my dear disciple of the honorable goddess?”

“Kill me now,” Orro muttered under his breath, too quietly for the man to hear.

Cade replied with an elbow to his ribs. Unfortunately, Cade’s aim impacted against the hilt of a concealed dagger, and he winced while Orro shot him a triumphant smile in their momentary exchange.

More light from the dawn’s procession greeted their little gathering and cast long shadows into the temple’s open doors. The darkness within hinted at the faint outlines of pews set on either side of an intricate corridor.

“I am Gunn Gunderson!” The acolyte exclaimed with a smile that had way too many missing teeth. Combined with the cauliflower ears this Gunn sported, Cade got the distinct impression this earnest man was once quite the fighter. His enormous forearms didn’t hurt the image this conjured in Cade’s mind. “I have been serving Scorn ever since my wife cheated on me with my brothers!”

“Did he say, brothers?” Orro whispered behind his cloth mask. “As in, plural?”

“Will you focus?” Cade whispered back, smirking as he quoted the warrior’s earlier chiding.

Orro only shrugged unapologetically.

Cade composed himself and scanned the acolyte before him. The gods rewarded their followers by activating their cores and giving a breath of their magic to those loyal to them. It was rumored that Scorn, however, was infamous for delivering the weakest ones.

Sure, once someone established their core, it always started out as copper ranker. According to the rumors, however, Scorn’s acolytes could never level up to silver or gold.

“So! Will you show us the inner sanctum?” Cade asked smoothly.

The man flinched, and Cade patted Gunn affectionately on the shoulder. Patting the man’s muscle was like smacking solid rock.

When Gunn frowned, Cade chuckled lightheartedly. “Just kidding. Lighten up, Gunn Gunderson. We are here to see and feel Scorn’s presence. Please, show us what drew you to her, and hopefully, we too shall be inspired! Spare no detail!”

“Oh…Erm…Alright! I’ve never gotten past this part in a signup before. I’ll do my best.” The large brute paused in the doorway. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your names.”

Cade did a little flourish and bowed dramatically. “Fret not, Gunn Gunderson. I am Bert of Silfheim. This is my illegitimate cousin, Dopey.”

Behind him, Orro choked behind his black mask.

Cade grinned. “It’s okay, Dopey. Be proud of your heritage.”

He patted his best friend on the back until the man’s muttered curses died down. Cade snuck a glance at Orro’s expression and immediately regretted it.

Death peered at him from behind that scarf.

“Great to meet you, Bert and Dopey!” Gunn answered with a faint flush to his cheeks. “Right this way!”

As the three of them entered Scorn’s temple, Cade held open the door for just a moment longer than necessary. He waited until he saw the faintest blur of white above him, and then shut the large entrance.

When he crossed through, he felt a wave of magic sweep over him. The hair on his neck stood on end, and his heart sank as a blue torch ignited near the entrance.

“Sorry, Bert, but do you have any magical items with you right now?” Gunn’s tone was cautious, but Cade waved off his concerns.

Damn. He’d been caught. His enchanted cloak had set off enchantments he hadn’t realized engulfed the temple, and he couldn’t risk anyone taking it from him.

This cloak—and its explosive magic—was their only way out of here alive.

His heart quickened as the alert activated, and his mind raced to come up with an excuse.

“Of course I do, Gunn Gunderson,” he said as he cleared his throat. “My cloak is enchanted to repel rain and wind, that’s all. I got it from a traveling merchant in Silfheim a few harvests ago.”

A lie, but a damn good one. Cade smiled, exuding the confidence any thief needed to have once he was caught in a lie, and it worked.

Gunn squinted in confusion but eventually shrugged. “Must be nice, especially with the blizzards we get here.”

The acolyte moved deeper into the temple, and the two followed behind.

Phew.

Cade looked up briefly to see a tiny white dragonling scurry across the ceiling, his claws digging into the stone with practiced ease.

Now that their latest addition was inside, Cade prepared for phase two: chaos.

Truth be told, it was his favorite part.

He reached into his pocket and pressed down hard on one of the runes that lined the glass orb he’d brought with him. After a few seconds of holding the orb, Cade felt a shift within his thoughts, as if some barrier that was always there dissipated.

“Bunny’s inside the wards,” he said through the now-open connection to the rest of his team. “No issue getting the cloak through either. We’re getting in position now. How’s everything going, boss?”

There was a perk to having a telepath in their group, in that it made heists far easier.

Not easy, of course. Just less painful and with fewer prison sentences, given that it usually resulted in better coordination.

The mental connection he’d opened with his mentor, Hugh, sent a pulsing hum through his mind. His right hand felt the glass orb heat up slightly as magic coursed through it. Labeled by the common folk as a focal stone, his was modified so that their leader could track and communicate with him anywhere in his sphere of perception.

It was one of the many factors that ensured their plan couldn’t fail.

“About damn time,” Hugh’s gruff voice replied in his head. Even through their telepathic link, Hugh sounded like a rusty sword dragged over gravel. “I swear by Honor’s hairy ass that if that dumb creature of yours messes this up, I am going to roast it over a fire and eat it.”

Cade winced.

“Something the matter?” Gunn inquired, and the large man looked suddenly quite insecure.

“Not at all!” Cade said. “Can you explain what each of these carvings mean? And do you have a library or some other repository?”

“Of course! If you look at the walls here, you’ll see…”

Cade tuned out the acolyte as he fiddled with the warm focal stone, careful not to let go. He didn’t want to risk closing off the connection.

“Don’t threaten Bunny like that, Hugh, or I’ll have him soil your pillow. Again,” Cade shot back telepathically.

“Real mature, Cade,” Hugh responded coldly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Can we keep this uber-expensive magical link between our minds clear for people actually doing what they’re supposed to do?” Elena’s snarky voice called out, shutting them both up.

“...And over here, we have the illustrious depiction of Scorn when she cast judgment over Silfheim,” Gunn continued, oblivious to the evolving heist around him. “You know, the way she disowned the Duke kind of reminds me of how my little brother stole my birthright. It’s a funny story, actually…”

Gunn droned on as he led them deeper into the temple. The three of them passed empty pews adjacent to bronze bowls set atop stony pillars, each with a ghostly flame at the center. The flickering light cast strange aberrations of figures in misery and sorrow across the distant walls. Cade shivered. Despite the fires, this place felt cold.

Soon, they reached a large circular chamber lined with balconies that stacked atop each other for the next three stories. Two tightly wound staircases set to either side of the entrance led up to those subsequent floors and lent the spacious room a sense of symmetry. Cade walked past these and didn’t have to fake his amazement. Whoever designed this room had taste.

Cade’s hope in mortal-kind was restored.

Orro navigated around the circumference of the ground floor while Cade continued to listen with the occasional nod or grunt. Neither looked surprised when the tiny white dragonling that had followed them inside hopped from one pillar to the next until he reached the second floor.

The little dragon continued to ascend, his mission clear, and Cade waited until he saw Bunny silently slip through the railing of the fourth balcony.

Good.

Now, for some acting.

“Oh! AGH! My heart! Scorn’s presence is here! It’s too much!” Cade suddenly yelled, and he clutched his brown tunic like it was the culprit for his agony.

He leaned heavily against a nearby shelf and waited for three heartbeats. Then, he swooned and fell to the ground, taking the books and urns that sat atop the stony outcropping with him. The crash that followed echoed far and wide in the spacious chamber and accompanying corridors.

“Shit!” Orro yelled and rushed over.

“By Scorn’s almighty scepter, are you alright?” Gunn exclaimed.

Orro reached Cade first and felt for injuries along his skull and spine. Cade grunted in annoyance.

“Dopey… What are you doing?” Cade whispered as Orro continued to run his hands across his vital points.

“You… you fell.” Orro’s eyes were partially dilated as they met Cade’s squint.

“Yeah,” Cade hissed under his breath. “That’s the whole point. We’re the distraction, you lovable idiot. Get into character.”

With that, Cade resumed acting. He groaned loudly again and rolled around on the ground, as though writhing in agony, and Orro sighed under his breath.

“Here goes nothing,” the assassin muttered.

Orro stood up and shook their host by the shoulders. “He’s dying! Get help, dear Gunn! Help!”

The assassin yelled far too loudly, and his voice was thick with forced concern. Cade moaned inwardly at his friend’s terrible acting.

“I’m dying!” Cade reinforced, and he clawed at his throat. “That potion—that witch must have cursed me!”

There was no potion, of course, but Gunn didn’t need to know it.

As expected, Gunn froze up for a moment, and that was all they needed. He growled, masking the sound as a groan of pain, and glanced up at the ceiling as Bunny’s white head peeked around a column.

It was the signal for Bunny to do the thing he did exceptionally well—wreak havoc.

“We’re clear for phase two,” Cade told the team through Hugh’s mental bridge, as the first wisps of smoke drifted down from the floor. “Alright, team. Let’s steal some shit.”