The Thieves’ Guild

Chapter Twenty-One

The magical attack came too swiftly for Cael to hope to dodge, and under any other circumstances, he would have died horribly. However, instead of blasting a smoking hole in his chest, Jenna’s lightning bolt merely struck Cael’s staff and disappeared. Such a comical look of surprise appeared on the sorceress’s face that Cael actually laughed out loud before realizing his good fortune. He changed his guffaw into a shout of defiance.

“So, my staff defeats your spell, Mistress Jenna! Shall we see if it can shatter your sphere of protection as well?” He leaped at her, swinging his staff with all his might.

Jenna flew backward, avoiding his blow, and Cael’s staff crashed against the wall. He recovered, preparing to strike again before Jenna could escape down the stairs.

A shout from above stopped him. Looking up, he saw Alynthia reaching a gloved hand through the hole in the roof. “Come on!” she ordered. “Now’s your chance.”

With one more glance at Jenna, who was busy opening a scroll, the surprise on her face changing to indignation, Cael leaped up and caught the proffered hand. Grimting, Alynthia pulled him onto the roof.

“Shall we go?” she asked, as Varia stuffed the tripod into the hole.

“After you,” Cael answered.

They sprinted for the roofs edge, Varia quickly following.

Behind them, the tripod rocketed up out of the hole into the night sky and came crashing down in the street in front of Jenna’s shop. Cael and Alynthia reached the battlement wall where they had first climbed up. Their rope still lay coiled beside it. At their approach, a thief rose up from the shadow of the wall and tossed the coiled rope over the edge. He was a burly fellow, with forearms like those of a galley rower. He wrapped one end of the rope around his waist, then around his beam-thick wrist.

“Down you go, Captain,” Rull said.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Look, Cael!” She pointed back the way they had come.

Mistress Jenna was on the roof, her long gray hair swirling in a nimbus of power around her head. Still, the shimmering globe of air surrounded her, visible even in the darkness.

As Jenna slowly scanned the roof, searching for the fleeing intruders, her magical globe of protection was suddenly bombarded, struck by light and audible pinging noises. A second attack followed, then a third, striking from three different directions. Jenna spun quickly, trying to locate her opponents, only to suffer more blows.

“What is that?” Cael asked, amazed.

“Slingers,” Alynthia answered with a smile beneath her mask. “That’s our Guild for you. There are slingers on every roof. And now…”

She paused. A larger and louder flash, almost an explosion, burst upon Jenna’s shield, spinning her around, adding to the look of frustrated rage on her face.

“…the crossbowmen.”

“Impressive, but what good are they? She is protected against both dart and slinger’s stone,” Cael said.

“Yes, but look how they distract her,” Alynthia commented. A bolt crashed against the shield just before Jenna’s face, drawing an instinctive recoil from the sorceress. “We escape while she swats flies. Follow me, Cael!”

She kicked one leg over the roofs battlement, grasped the rope, and swung over. Cael watched her rappel down the wall as expertly as any mountaineer. When she touched the ground, she shook the rope for Cael to follow.

“Wonderfully light, she is,” Rull said as he held the rope’s end in his iron grip. “Over you go.”

Cael swung over the battlement and lowered himself hand-over-hand to the alley below. He had no skill such as Alynthia’s for rappelling down ropes in the black of night. As soon as his feet touched the cobblestones, the rope came slithering down after him. He almost swore aloud, thinking the thief had tried to drop him.

But no, Alynthia quickly wound it into a remarkably small coil and stowed it in a large flat pouch at her belt. “In case we need it for further escapes,” she explained. “Let’s return to our safe room and stow these black clothes. We can’t walk about Palanthas dressed like this.”

“I should say not,” a voice said behind them. They spun around, Alynthia drawing her dagger, Cael gripping his staff.

Before them stood a small man draped in heavy robes of gray. His face was thin and pale, his eyes small and black and ratlike. They seemed almost to glow red in the darkness of the alley.

Alynthia took a step toward him, but he halted her with a warning, “Ah, ah, ah! I wouldn’t do that.” His robe parted slightly, revealing a drawn hand crossbow. “You’d be dead before you took another step. You may drop your illegal weapon now.”

Reluctantly, Alynthia let the weapon slide from her fingertips. The man’s ratlike eyes then swiveled to gaze at the elf. “Cael Ironstaff of… Where is it you are from anyway? No matter. You and your accomplice are under arrest.”

“By whose authority, and on what charge?” Cael growled.

“Why, the charge begins with burglary, though I am sure I can conjure up a few more capital offenses if need be. As for me, I am Sir Arach Jannon, Knight of the Thorn and Judge of the Law in Palanthas. My authority here is unquestioned.” So saying, he placed a pair of spidery fingers to his thin lips and sounded a piercing whistle.

“More Knights will be here shortly to take you away. In the meantime, I think a small spell to immobilize you would be in order. You thieves are notoriously slippery. Besides, it is not often that I get to try my magic against living subjects these days.”

Alynthia turned quickly to face Cael, her eyes twinkling. Reading her meaning, Cael stepped toward the Thorn Knight, his staff gripped crosswise before him.

Sir Arach jumped back and held up one hand, palm forward. “Halt! I command you!” he shouted in a resounding voice. His outstretched hand glowed with silver light, and a shimmering cloud of tiny silver stars descended upon the two thieves.

Cael froze, waiting, but nothing seemed to happen. Sir Arach smiled and relaxed, turning away to see if his guards were nearing. Cael looked at Alynthia, who merely shrugged.

Cael took another step toward the Thorn Knight, who spun round at the sound of his footstep, surprise and contempt in his rodent eyes. The Knight whipped his still-cocked crossbow from his robes and held it tremblingly pointed at Cael’s chest. “No closer, thief,” he warned.

In a flash Cael reached out and cracked the Knight’s hand with his staff. Bones crunched, and the crossbow went sailing over their heads, loosing its bolt into the night. Sir Arach staggered back, startled by the speed of the elf’s attack. He sucked his broken fingers for a moment, then spun and fled down the dark alley, his gray robes flapping.

Alynthia pushed past Cael and snatched her dagger from the cobblestones. In the same movement, she reversed it with a flip and raised her arm to throw, but Cael caught her by the wrist.

“He’ll raise the alarm!” she hissed.

“Kill a Lord Knight, and not even Mulciber can protect you,” Cael calmly stated. He held her wrist a moment longer, then released it. She jerked away from him, then turned and watched the Thorn Knight vanish around a corner.

“You’re right,” she said reluctantly. “We’d better go.” Without turning to see if he followed, she stalked away. She paused at the alley’s end, glanced over her shoulder, then slipped around a corner into the night.

“You’re welcome,” Cael called as he dashed after her.