The Thieves Guild, not to be confused with the New Thieves Guild, wasn’t easy to find. By design, obviously. But as I’d been around before the schism, I knew how to find it.
Reaching it took me through a labyrinth of back streets, concealed passes, and dark alleys where no sunlight reached and no windows faced the street. Once or twice, I hesitated, or nearly missed a turn.
But Artemis was still using Master Garrett’s symbol: a small runic eye, chalked in place. Easy to overlook like everything else, unless you knew where to look – behind a patch of ivy, on the backside of a pillar, or the underside of a stone.
So with minimal backtracking, I found my way to the hideout. A musty basement in an abandoned warehouse, with several well-guarded, heavily hexed, and discreetly booby-trapped secret tunnels out.
Not exactly glamorous digs, but then, you didn’t join the thieves guild for a life of glamor.
I took the front door in. The secret exits were designed to operate exactly as the name implied: one way travel, and only in times of difficulty. Anyone trying to enter that way would be presumed a hostile intruder, and disposed of accordingly.
Even if I thought I could have got around the traps and the spells, I didn’t want to push my luck with the people. I knew I’d have a tough enough go of things just by showing up.
An expectation that was not disappointed as I stepped through the low door. Half a dozen armed men and women fell on me, blades drawn.
Business end facing my throat.
I stood quite still and spoke calmly. “I need to talk to Artemus.”
Someone scoffed, and someone else laughed. A third, a shaggy giant of a man whose name I only vaguely remembered as Harald or Haldreth or something of that nature, pressed the tip of his blade on my throat. “Artemus doesn’t talk to scum.”
“Kill him,” someone else urged. “Before he gets any of us.”
“I’m not here to ‘get’ anyone,” I said, pulling as far away from the blades as I could just to speak. “I just need to have a quick chat with Artemus, and then I can be on my way.”
“And I told you,” Harald growled, “Artemus doesn’t talk to scum like you.”
“You’ll kindly allow me to decide that,” a voice said from the shadows.
I should explain, the foyer into which I’d stepped was dark and full of shadows, as it was lit by candles.
And the thing about candles is – they suck.
People like to think they’re romantic and old worldly and whatnot. But those are people who associate them with romantic dinners and date nights. Not people who live by candlelight. In real life – in my life – candles suck. They only illuminate pockets of the room. They flicker and burn down and drip wax and are generally a giant pain in the ass.
Which is beside the point, except to explain why I didn’t see him lurking there until he stepped out of the shadow. That, and his maxed out stealth build.
I was good, thanks in part to Salvidora’s trinkets, but Artemus was the best. At least, the best since Garrett and his untimely end.
He wore a dark cowl pulled low over his face. Overkill I thought, since we were in a building. It looked like the medieval version of the dudes who always wear sunglasses, inside or out, morning, noon or night. But I had bigger fish to fry than pointing out that he looked like a jackass.
“Artemus,” I said, like I was addressing an old buddy. “There you are.”
“Kaej,” he said, very much not like he was talking to an old buddy. More like he had a foul taste in his mouth. “I told you never to step foot here again.”
“I know,” I said. “But –”
“The penalty for returning after banishment is death,” one over-eager little gremlin piped up.
I shot him a withering look, but otherwise chose to gloss over that particular technicality. “I need a favor,” I said to Artemus.
He laughed at this, a deep, sonorous boom of a laugh that echoed around the musty chamber. “I’m almost impressed by the balls on you.”
Normally, I wouldn’t have been able to resist annoying him by agreeing. ‘Why yes, they are pretty impressive, aren’t they.’ It was a sign of the direness of my situation that I said instead, “There’s plenty in it for you too. But, we need to talk in private. Please, Artemus. It’s a matter of life and death.”
For a long moment, he stood absolutely still. I held my breath, half-expecting him to throw me out on my ear – or worse, order his minions to cut my throat where I stood.
Then he said, “Let him through. I’ll give you five minutes, and no more.”
Haldreth scowled at me. Someone else shoved me as they stepped backward. But they let me pass, and I scrambled to follow Artemus.
He’d already started to walk down a musty hall, all but vanishing from sight in the gloom. Damn. He must have been leveling since I’d last been around, I thought. His stealth skills seemed to be off the charts.
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“You know what’s happening in the city?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Was it your doing?”
“My doing?” I scowled at his back. He hadn’t bothered to turn around. “Of course not.”
“Are you sure? From what I heard, you’ve been working with Russo.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“He’s working with the Sorcerer.”
“Oh. Well, yes, he is. But I’m not. As a matter of fact, he tried to kill me this morning. Him and a whole shitload of undead monsters.”
“The king is dead,” he said, as if my own struggle for survival hadn’t even registered.
“I know. I was there.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Perhaps not. But here you are, alive. And he’s dead.” Now, he did turn, and I could just see the gleam of dark eyes from under the hood. “You’re very good at surviving while better men die, aren’t you?”
I shrank under the charge. “It’s not – it’s not like that. I mean, Garrett wasn’t my fault, but I had nothing to do with Chucky boy. Uhh, his highness,” I amended, noting the scowl that crept over my old mentor’s face.
“So you say. What were you doing there, by the way? I assume you were not on the invite list.”
“No,” I said. “I wasn’t. That’s what I’m here to talk about.” I glanced up and down the hall, and seeing that it was empty, slipped the scepter out of my bag of holding.
Artemus’s breath caught in a loud gasp. “Is that –?”
“Yes, it is.”
“How –”
“With difficulty. But that’s not the point. Now that I’ve got the damned thing – ouch.”
“What?”
I winced, but shook it off. “Nothing. Point is, I need to move it. The Sorcerer knows I’ve got it, and he’s going to be looking for me. So I need to offload it as soon as possible, so I can get on the first boat out of here.”
“I imagine you do,” he said. Any offers of assistance, I noted, were absent.
“Look, I’m willing to cut a deal here, Artemus. For old time’s sake.”
“You mean, so you can escape with your skin intact.”
“Yeah, well, that too. But I’m willing to be generous here. I need papers and enough gold to get me set up somewhere else.”
“Doing what? Not working an honest job, I presume.”
“Well, no,” I admitted. “I thought I might…I don’t know…take it easy for a bit. Lay low.”
“But not too low.”
He was uncannily perceptive. The fact was, I wanted to go somewhere safe and live a good life. No eight to five for me. No picking pockets. No robbing hostile goddesses. God forbid, no soldiering. My life of ease and comfort were not likely to be selling points, though.
“We’ll all make out like princes,” I tried. “You, me, the rest of the guild. What do you say, eh? One last haul for old times’ sakes, and then I’m out of your hair forever, yeah?”
“No.”
“No?” I repeated the word in surprise. Truth be told, I hadn’t really expected a negative. Sure, there’d been the business with Garrett. But that had been an accident, and a long time ago. Well, a few years. But the point was, this was a lot of treasure. And I’d done my best to sell it.
Maybe I need to spend a few more points on charisma, I thought.
Artemus had started to speak. “I expect very little of you, Kaej, yet you still manage to disappoint.”
“Disappoint?” Things were only getting more confusing. “By scoring the biggest treasure in a century? In a hundred centuries?”
“This…” He stretched out a hand toward the scepter, and let it hover over the golden shaft. But he didn’t touch it. “This is no mere treasure to be pawned to the highest bidder, or melted down and recast. This is a sacred artifact. A cornerstone of our history. The king may wield it, but it belongs to no man. It belongs to the Realm.”
I stared at him. “Artemus. Buddy. Where the hell is this coming from? You’re a thief. You steal things for a living.”
“Not this.”
“Okay, great. I stole it. You don’t have to soil your precious conscience. I already did the dirty work. All you have to do is sell it and make lots and lots of moola.”
He shook his cowled head though. “You do not understand, Kaej.”
“You’re damned right I don’t,” I said, wincing as sparks shot through my hand. “You are a thief. Your goal is to make money.”
“Not at the cost of my honor.”
“What honor? You’re a thief!”
“My immortal soul, if you prefer.”
“Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’ve found religion? You were already insufferable enough without preaching too.” This wasn’t going well, and maybe I could have been a bit more diplomatic. But I was quickly losing my temper – and feeling the creeping terror of what awaited if this, my last best plan, failed.
“You need to leave, Kaej. I’ll allow you to depart unharmed, but you’re not welcome here. Not after how things ended with you and the guild before – and certainly not now.”
A desperate thought entered my mind. A hail Mary play. “Fine,” I said, trying to sound cool and collected. “Then I’ll go to Constantine.”
I saw Artemus hesitate, for the briefest moment at the mention of his rival’s name. Then, slowly, he shook his head. “You are a fool, but not so great a fool as that. You will never leave that guild alive. You know that, and I know that. If they’re not already under the Sorcerer’s thumb, they will soon be. And even if they were not – they would cut your throat long before they paid you a copper.”
All of which was true enough. The new thieves guild, as they called themselves, were more than thieves. Or, less than. Depends on how you looked at it. Either way, unlike Artemus’s surly and inhospitable band who only threatened to cut throats, they had no compunctions about murder. Not when it came to getting their hands on loot. Rumor had it that they even took straight up assassination contracts on occasion.
Whatever the truth might be, they would kill me as soon as look at me. Especially if I strolled in with something like the scepter.
“Please, Artemus. I’m desperate.”
“I can’t do what you’re asking.”
“Dammit – ouch. What am I supposed to do? If you’re so worried about this precious bauble, what do you think happens when the Sorcerer’s men get me?”
“Nothing good.”
“Exactly. Which is why you’ve got to help me.”
He studied the scepter for a long moment, but then shook his head again. “No. There’s only one thing to be done. You must take the scepter to the abbot. He will know what to do. It is a powerful relic. Perhaps it may even turn the tide in this invasion.”
“What? How?” I vaguely remembered Jerkoff saying something about an abbot too, but I’d had no idea what he meant then, and I had none now. As to the rest of it, how my shiny club could turn a war around, that seemed downright preposterous. “What abbot? Will he pay me?”
“Abbot Tiberius, in the Gray Abbey.”
“Where’s that?”
“A day’s ride north of here. At the foot of the Gray Mountain, where the rivers Mankith and Aesel meet.”
“And he’ll pay me?” I asked again.
“I doubt it. The abbey accepts no donations or riches. They live on the toils of their own labor. But he will help you escape alive, and I assume your life is worth something. To you at least.”
I ignored the jab. “So you won’t give me anything? You won’t help me at all, even though I’m carrying this trinket you seem to think is so important?”
“I will give you two things. Well, three things. You’ve already had the benefit of my counsel. Now, I’ll add my cowl.”
He slipped it off his head, and seemed to grow somehow more real and vibrant, less of as shadow.
“It will shield you from unfriendly eyes, and hide you more in general. I’ll also grant you a horse from our stables.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s better than you deserve. Now, take it or leave it. The choice is yours.”