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CADE
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Cade looked into the treasure chest and basked in the rich red glow that emanated from it. Inside, a single object rested on a velvet cushion.
It was, without a doubt, the most grotesque necklace Cade had ever seen.
A gaudy chain of gold inlaid with jewels sprawled out from the pendant, which wasn’t much better. An uncut gem the size of Cade’s fist was clutched in a silver dragon’s claw. The chain looped through the claw unevenly, giving Cade the impression that the three components—the claw, the chain, and the uncut gem—were all distinct pieces cobbled together for some function.
That was the curse of complex enchanted items. Everyone was so willing to give up on fashion the instant more power could be crammed into their gear or accessories. Cade’s pessimism returned in a rush.
Art was dead. Long live anarchy.
“Stop scowling at the amulet,” Hugh ordered. “Get it into this box. One touch and you’ll probably keel over, so don’t touch it, Cade.” Hugh amplified his words by also sending them telepathically.
The result was as eerie as it was annoying. Cade shook his head to clear it and snatched the box his mentor handed him. Gingerly, he tipped over the treasure chest and slid the affront to beauty into the protective container they had prepared for it.
Cade’s ears were opened to any sound of boots on stone, or even the sentinels soft scratching. But none of it came.
Then it hit him—the reason he was so on edge. It wasn’t the battles, or the unusually aggressive tone Hugh was using, or even the near-death experience. It was much simpler than that.
This heist had been too easy.
Way too easy.
There hadn’t been a single living soul down here the whole time. No mortals. No bloodshed. Nothing. Not even the opposition Hugh and the others encountered had any mortals. As terrifying as sentinels could be, it still struck him as odd that there hadn’t been a single human here to guard something that could fetch this much gold.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he cast a sidelong glare at his mentor.
“Alright, hand it over, Cade.” Hugh’s voice echoed through Cade’s thoughts like a poison.
Cade swiveled and flicked the box closed, his mind and heart both racing.
“Hey, boss,” Cade replied cautiously. “Why was there never anything in our plans for what to do when encountering mortals down here? We all got sunstones for the sentinels, sure, but we knew about them going in from our client’s intel. How come there are no guards or even the odd janitor?”
The thief did his best to keep his tone light and carefree, but his ears continued to search for any signs of life.
Nothing.
The only sound was water dripping in a steady rhythm down the twin staircases. In fact, it was getting louder.
The others glanced from Cade to their boss, back and forth, as their eyes widened with realization.
Cade was right—and everyone knew it.
Hugh pinned him with a scowl, and his eyes burned with impatience. “You’re losing it, lad. No mortals are around because no one in their sane minds would dawdle where sentinels linger. That’s just asking for your soul to get ripped out when your back is turned. Hell, even I don’t want to be here a moment longer than necessary because those sunstones aren’t going to last forever. We can get out of here and line our purses with more gold than a dragon could carry as soon as you give me that box.”
Hugh still stood by the explosive cloak pinned to the wall, and his hand hovered over the large rune in its center. He was clearly ready to blow the wall to pieces as soon as Cade obeyed, but his mentor never once broke eye contact. In fact, there was no reason for Hugh to wait. Cade could’ve just as easily given him the box once they were safely out of the temple.
This wasn’t adding up.
A thief’s intuition was never wrong. Cade learned that the hard way, and he wasn’t about to ignore it now.
The hair on the back of Cade’s neck stood on end, and he swallowed hard as he prepared himself for what he knew he had to do.
“No.” Cade’s words cut through the group like a knife.
Everyone turned to him with various expressions of incredulity, but Hugh’s face was a mask of rage set in cold steel.
“No?” Hugh whispered through his gritted teeth. “Care to explain why you’re burning precious seconds of our escape on your little delusions?”
“I meant not yet,” Cade lied. He held Hugh’s gaze, masking the churn of suspicion in his gut.
He needed to buy some time to figure out what to do.
“I’m just ensuring our prize is secure,” he lied smoothly, the weight of the box a reassuring presence under his fingers. “You know how it is, Hugh—can’t be too careful. You taught me that.”
Hugh cursed under his breath and briefly rubbed his eyes with his burly hand. The moment the man looked away, Cade shifted the box subtly against his hip, allowing his hand to brush the hidden clasp. His fingers moved with practiced grace, palming the amulet and shifting his last sunstone in its place before he relocked the metallic container. The sunstone he’d replaced the amulet with thudded softly inside the box as he shook it in front of his mentor’s gaze.
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Hugh’s eyes flickered, missing the subtle transfer. “Last chance, kid.”
“Boss, I have a question,” Cade said stiffly, ignoring the unspoken threat in those words. The box was still firmly in his hand even as the heavy amulet weighed down his pocket. “This was too easy, don’t you think?”
Elena cursed under her breath and ran a shaky hand through her hair. “He’s right.”
Jer, meanwhile, took a few cautious steps away from the man who had brought them all together, so many years ago.
“Kid, give me the—”
“What aren’t you telling us?” Cade interrupted.
At that, something changed in Hugh’s face—something Cade couldn’t quite place or identify. It was like his mentor had taken off a mask he’d worn for years, and Cade was finally seeing the real man for who he actually was. “You know, Cade, sometimes you’re too smart for your own good.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Orro snapped, his grip tightening on his broken sword.
By the gods, they did not have time for this. They needed to get the hell out of here, but Hugh was blocking their only means of escape.
Hugh’s gaze briefly flicked toward the assassin, but it didn’t linger. Once again, that intense glare settled on Cade, and a wicked sneer settled on his mentor’s face. He shifted his attention to the shadows of a dark tunnel and addressed the darkness. “Get out here, crew. It’s time to clean up this mess.”
A chill, more than the usual dampness of the underground lair, crept along the stone walls.
The shadows shifted.
Three figures emerged from the dark—ghosts made flesh. A dark elf, skin like the purple dusk that precedes the night sky, stepped forward, her presence commanding yet silent.
She was followed by a young man with handsome features marred by a sharp sneer.
Looming behind them both was an orc easily three heads taller than Cade. He emerged from the darkness like a war monument brought to life, his twin cleavers glinting with a sinister promise.
Orro caught Cade’s eye, and they shared a slight nod between them. The assassin’s hand rested on his blade, ready.
The arrogant gentleman’s lip curled. “These are the scapegoats, boss?”
The bastard’s voice was like honey spilled lazily from a silver spoon, his violet eyes glinting with disdain. His clothes were too fine a make for some commoner, and yet there was no real inspiration or taste about them. That, combined with his clear prejudice, was enough.
Cade instantly hated him.
The man had called Cade’s crew scapegoats, and these were clearly secret members of a team that already knew his mentor. Together with his sneaking suspicions that something was off, confirmed everything Cade hadn’t wanted to believe.
Hugh had betrayed them.
Hell, their boss had replaced them.
The young thief kept his focus split, his gaze shifting back and forth between the arrogant aristocrat and the dark elf. Her fingers danced through the air at her sides, weaving moisture into deadly shapes. Without a sound, she flicked her wrist—sudden, sharp.
A knife emerged from a pool of water, glinting in the fake sunlight as its lethal edge took form even as it lifted into the air.
“Orro!” Cade yelled. “Move!”
A blade of water spun silently towards Orro. Reacting instinctively, the assassin sidestepped, the weapon grazing his arm, drawing a line of red against his dark leather. The dagger splashed against the wall behind him, sending a spray of frigid water into the air, which briefly glittered in the dim light.
Phew.
That had been close. Now he understood why there were puddles everywhere.
Orro caught Cade’s eye and gave a lazy salute in thanks. Cade returned it before shifting his attention back to the newcomers.
“Nice trick,” Cade remarked. “Was playing in puddles a lifelong dream of yours, or just something you picked up recently?”
His tone was edged as he appraised Hugh’s new allies. The dark elf sneered, her cobalt eyes shifting from Orro to Cade. Then, as quick as an arrow in flight, her expression changed to a seductive smile.
“I like your lips, boy,” she purred.
Um.
Well, alrighty then.
Of everything she could’ve said, that was probably last on the list of what he’d expected to happen.
Cade gulped, briefly stumped by this change in behavior. Most people threw things at him after he prodded them like that. His grip tightened, the box in his hands a welcome distraction.
It took a moment more to center himself, but he managed to get his head back in the game. He noticed how all three of the newcomers kept glancing toward the box, and he grinned.
“What, these?” Cade winked and pointed at his mouth with his free hand. “Thanks, scary elf lady. I made them myself.”
Her grin widened, but her eyes remained narrowed in warning.
Undeterred, Cade tossed the small container back and forth in his hands, the container moving in a gentle arc. The veins on Hugh’s neck throbbed as he gritted his teeth. But with a quick sigh, their backstabbing leader relaxed his shoulders.
Hugh’s grin was tight. Predatory. “C’mon, Cade. There’s no need for this to get ugly. We need that amulet. We’ll take it with or without you bleeding out on the floor.” He stepped closer, hand outstretched. “The box, Cade. Now.”
Cade weighed the box in his palm, feigning reluctance. He needed to keep Hugh talking, to draw out the moment for him to think of an escape plan.
The clock was ticking. At any moment, Scorn’s acolytes could barge in. So far, however, he wasn’t really coming up with anything that had good odds of survival.
“And if I do…” the young thief hedged. “What’s to say you won’t just cut us down anyway?”
Hugh’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. “You always had to make things difficult, boy. Why can’t you listen to me for the first time in your gods-damned life?! Hand me the box or I spill your friend’s blood at your feet while you watch.”
Cade had never heard his mentor speak with such blind hatred. He took a step back, shock and fury coursing in equal measure through his tight veins. This man he had respected for so long, whom he’d followed into battle after battle, had traded him in like a rusty old sword he didn’t want anymore.
Fine.
So be it.
He didn’t need the bitter old man. If he wanted to play this out, Cade would show him just how much Hugh had underestimated him and his crew.
The air thickened, charged with magic and malice. Cade sensed the elf move before he saw it—a wave of moisture gathering around her fingertips as the countless puddles were drawn toward her.
He glanced at Orro, a silent agreement flashing between them.
“If I give you this box, I want something in return,” Cade said, stalling as Orro settled into his stance. “We live, and you get us out of here with you.”
“Deal,” Hugh snapped quickly.
Too quickly.
A lie.
“Guess we’re on the same page, then,” Cade said with a shrug of feigned compliance. “Time to see if this prize is worth all the fuss.”
Cade chucked the box toward Hugh. As it arced through the air, his heart raced—not from fear, but from the thrill of the game.
After all, a thief lived for these moments, and Cade always had another trick up his sleeve.