Honor Among Thieves

Chapter Four: The Fox’s Den

Fox’s gut twisted at the sight in the alley ahead. Asmall woman in a dark cloak whirled and twisted, trying withoutsuccess to break free of the two men who spun her back and forthbetween them, like tomcats toying with a lone mouse.

She needed help. He couldn’t just leave her. But ifthey stopped, Rhendish’s clockworks guards would catch them.

Evasion or rescue: In Fox’s opinion, no one shouldhave to make that choice.

Inspiration struck, and with it the realization thatperhaps he wouldn’t have to choose.

There was, after all, more than one way to create anillusion.

“Head straight for them,” he told the dwarf. “Can youget the girl?”

Delgar sent him a cocky grin. “Don’t I always?”

They ran toward the embattled woman. Fox skidded to astop a few paces away, but the dwarf dipped one shoulder, scoopedup the woman, and kept going without missing a step.

The thugs howled curses and gave pursuit. Beforethey’d taken two steps, Fox crossed his arms, reached into hisopposite sleeves, and came up with a throwing knife in eachhand.

Two quick flicks sent the knives spinning toward thethugs. Steel found flesh, the first knife slicing across the tallman’s calf, the second burying itself hilt-deep in the shorterman’s left buttock.

Fox flashed past them at an easy loping pace. Thesounds of battle in the alley behind him brought a grim smile tohis face.

Rhendish’s clockwork marvels could do many things,but apparently they couldn’t distinguish between the two sets ofcriminals.

He quickened his pace and caught up to Delgar. “Itworked. You can let her down now.”

The dwarf slowed to a stop, a broad grin on his face.He gestured to the woman slung over his shoulder. “Are you sure?Because I could carry this little thing for-eeeeeOW!”

Before Delgar’s surprised yelp died away, the womanlaunched herself forward, rolled, and came up onto her feet.

Fox caught her wrist before she could flee. She triedto jerk away. The sharp movement tossed back the dark hood of hercloak.

For many moments, the world swam and spun as Foxstared into a face that was grim, beautiful, and hauntinglyfamiliar.

“She bit me!” Delgar clapped one hand to hisbackside.

She responded with a string of lilting sounds thatgave Fox the impression of summer winds and liquid gold.

Delgar rumbled something curt and angry. The elf-foran elf she undoubtedly was-responded with a sweet comment thatbrought a flush of rage to the Carmot’s face.

The brief interlude gave Fox time to gather his wits.“I know you,” he said.

The elf shrugged and started to shake her head.Something flickered in her eyes. She reached out to touch hishair.

“Fox pelt,” she said.

A smile burst over the thief’s face like sunrise. “Itis you! I wasn’t sure at first. Your hair and eyes are adifferent color. Of course, it was summer then.” He frowned as theobvious occurred to him. “Wait a minute-it’s summer now.”

“I was wounded in midwinter. Now that I am well andcan walk in the sun again, the Greening will come.”

Fox nodded and spun toward Delgar. “I grew up on themainland, on the edge of the forest. I wandered off when I wasabout nine. I spent the night in a tree, which seemed like a goodidea until I fell out of the tree and into the river. This elfpulled me out of the water, brought me home. She saved mylife.”

“And now you’ve returned the favor,” Delgar said. “Itall evens out, everyone can go home.”

The elf slipped her wrist out of Fox’s unresistinghand. “What he says is true,” she said. “Any debt between us ispaid. I have no right to ask for your help.”

It was on the tip of Fox’s tongue to offer it anyway,but the scowl on Delgar’s face stopped him.

“We should get off the street. There’s a safe placenearby where we can talk.”

“It’s safe,” the dwarf said, “because very few peopleknow how to find it. An enviable state of affairs, and one I wouldlike to preserve.”

Fox shot him a dirty look and offered his arm to theelf. She pulled up her hood and shook her head. “I do not want tocause discord among friends. It’s only. .”

“What?”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. “I knowand trust no other human.”

“To do what?” the dwarf asked.

“A priceless elven artifact was stolen: a rose ofpale crystal that opens each morning with the dawn and closes atsunset.”

Delgar folded his arms. “So? Any garden rose can doas much.”

“This is more than a pretty toy,” she said. “This isancient and powerful magic. Such magic in human hands could bringcatastrophic destruction.”

“Vague, yet ominous,” Delgar said. “I’ve knowntwo-penny fortune tellers who were more generous withdetail.”

The elf studied him for a moment. “You are a Carmot dwarf. You canstoneshift?”

“He’s very good,” Fox said.

Delgar didn’t’ acknowledge the compliment. In fact,neither elf nor dwarf seemed to notice that Fox had spoken.

“You can do this because there are traces of carmitein your blood and bone,” she said. “Imagine enough carmite tofashion a rose, then place that rose within a dagger of amplifyingcrystal. When you have that image firmly in mind, imagine what thatrose could do when fed a drop of a traitor’s blood.”

All color drained from Delgar’s face. His normal palegray tone faded almost to while.

“The Thorn,” he murmured.

The elf nodded.

Delgar passed a hand over his face and turned to Fox.“I opened a new portal last moondark, under the back stairs of thetavern in Halfpenny Wynd. We can be in the Fox Den within thehour.”

The Fox Den was hardly what Honor expected.

She’d supposed a young thief might have a cellar roomin some rough part of the city, or perhaps a hidden chamber in themanor of some wealthy patron. But this network of pristine stonepassages and ever-shifting hidden doors throughout the city wasbeyond impressive.

Strange carvings marked many of the tunnels, and thelarge and somehow airy chamber in which they now gathered wasdistinguished by elaborate carvings and a mirror that reflected notwhat was in the room, but other places and, Honor suspected, othertimes.

For a while she watched as one scene after anotherswam into focus, lingered for a few breaths, and faded. It wasoddly soothing.

Even more surprising were the thieves themselves.

While a fairy-a fairy! — regaled the others withthe story of Delgar’s rescue, Honor gathered her thoughts.

Rhendish had told her the thief would not refuse her.He had not told her why.

It seemed incredible, but apparently Rhendish knewshe’d crossed paths with this human. How had he come by thisinformation? And what was this young man to Rhendish that the adeptwould go to such extreme lengths to get him in hand?

And what use would he make of these others?

The fairy’s presence astonished Honor. Didn’t Fox andhis companions know what sort of crime resulted in banishment tothe mortal realm? Or didn’t that sort of thing matter to a band ofadmitted thieves?

Vishni was, admittedly, a fetching little thing, slimas a pixie with big dark eyes and a short mop of dark curls. Shelaughed often, but there was a flash in her eyes and a petulanttwist to her rosebud lips that warned of storms lurking behind thesunshine.

Honor suspected that might be part of her appeal.

Delgar she understood a little better. Young dwarvesoften travelled abroad to seek adventure or knowledge. Delgar’spresence in Sevrin suggested he was more ambitious than most.

Long before the seas rose and turned Sevrin into acity of islands, in a time far beyond the reach of human memory, anancient dwarven culture had thrived beneath the current sea. Muchof it had been destroyed when the long-dead volcano last stirred.This much was known to all of the old races, but as history ancienteven by the measure of their kind.

The stone chambers of the “Fox Den” gave Honorinsight into Delgar’s quest: searching out the old passages,opening and restoring them.

She wondered what drove the dwarf. Was he a treasurehunter hoping to plunder the tombs of his ancestors? A scholarseeking to uncover ancient glories? Or something far more?

A Carmot settlement beneath Sevrin could be apowerful check on the growing power of the adepts. If Delgar hadambitions along those lines, he presented Rhendish with alegitimate concern.

But if that was the case, why would Rhendish permitDelgar’s escape?

The man they called Avidan was also complicated. Hewas not, Honor thought, a native of Sevrin. His aquiline featuresand swarthy skin suggested southern lands, and he spoke with thedeliberation of someone translating his thoughts from a morefamiliar tongue. He followed the fashion of the city, though,wearing his dark hair long and tied back and dressing in the simpletrousers and tunic of a master alchemist. But unlike Rhendish, hewore the soft green of early spring.

Honor wondered whether the others knew why.

Humans who lived near the forest knew better than towear pale green, or to sing certain songs in the dark of the moon.Sound and color had a profound effect on the fey. Perhaps Fox hadonce known that wearing light green drew the attention of the fairycourt, but years of city life had imposed a new set of survivalrules.

Still, how was it that none of them noticed the feywildness lurking in Avidan’s eyes, the distinctive dance of hisskittering thoughts? The man had dwelt in Faerie. Of that Honor wascertain. The experience had broken him into tiny shards and rebuiltthe pieces into patterns few mortals could understand.

And if the color of his clothing signified what shethought it did, Avidan longed to return to the fairy realm.

Vishni had to know this.

The fairy turned to Honor, as if she’d heard herunspoken name. “And now it is time for our guest to tell her tale,”she said gaily, laying a hand on Honor’s arm.

A sound like swift-melting ice filled the stonechamber. Vishni hissed and snatched her hand away.

She regarded her palm for a long moment beforelifting it for the others to see. Blisters rose on her slimfingers.

“Cold iron,” she said in a flat voice.

Every eye turned to Honor. She pushed up the sleeveof her tunic to display the etched metal bracer covering herforearm, a “gift” from Rhendish.

“I did not expect to find fairies beneath thecity.”

“No one does,” Fox said. His dismissive tone broughta scowl to Vishni’s face that no one but Honor seemed to observe.“Tell us about the rose dagger. Do you have any idea where it mightbe?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “I know who has it. Do you knowof a man named Muldonny?”

Silence settled over the group like morning fog.

The fairy’s pout eased and lifted into a slow,speculative smile. “This,” she said, “is going to be a lot more funthan I’d expected.”