Part Three: Tracking a Thief
He was awoken early the next morning by a strange tapping against the outside wall. Moaning slightly, he arose from his sleep. Everything was still dark, and a cold breeze blew into the room in spite of the shutters. The tapping continued, a gentle but persistent pattering against the wall. Taurin relaxed when he realised what it was; rain had once more settled over Peldor. Pulling the blanket snugly around himself, he drifted into a light sleep.
It was only when he awoke again a couple of hours later that he fully realised what the rain meant. Undoing the shutters, he cast his eyes out over an iron-grey horizon and muttered in annoyance. The damp weather looked as though it had settled in and would continue for a long time. Rain pelted down on the city in steady sheets, and the Tower of Dawn was veiled in grey cloud. He and Ravena would find very little to see today—if she turned up at all. The wind howled softly, mocking him. Grimacing to himself, he shut the window and headed down for breakfast.
Finishing the meal, he reached his decision. He would have to visit the Chambers of Healing in the Old Castle today to check on his father's condition. He was going to get very wet, if he could even find the building without Ravena's help, let alone find his way back. He had little to lose by waiting for her out in the rain. After bidding Hamar a good morning, he headed outside into the rain.
The downpour was even worse than it had appeared from his window. By the time Taurin made it to the edge of the park, he felt wet all the way through to his bones. His clothes were drenched, and his boots were filled with water. Looking miserably out across the park, he headed towards the trio of statues. From atop the hill, he scanned the nearby area for a stone bench. He soon spotted it, out in the open with no nearby trees for cover. It was with a weary groan that he headed towards it.
For perhaps half an hour he waited there, enduring the rains and winds, and scouring the horizon for any sign of Ravena. None came. Reluctantly, he moved away from the bench and headed back towards the city streets. Then a small shout caught his attention.
Turning around, he saw Ravena heading towards him through the rain, her hair plastered to her face, her purple silk clothes saturated. "Thought you could get away from me that easily?" she challenged him, laughing. "I've come, like I told you I would. Let's get out of the rain."
Suiting her own words, she walked hurriedly towards a dirt path lined on either side by broad trees that offered at least some protection. Taurin jogged after her. "Is there anything worth seeing in this weather?" he asked her, moving underneath what would have to pass as cover. "We're already soaked."
Her deep brown eyes flickered mischievously. "There's always something to see in Peldor. It doesn't matter what the weather's like. I thought I'd show you the place I've been staying since I left home. Does that sound like a good start?"
Nodding dumbly, he followed her along the faint trail, which eventually left the park and became a cobblestone street. They moved through the city slowly, finding cover where they could, and running through the open places as quickly as they could manage. Eventually they reached a crumbling stone wall coated with ivy. It formed part of an old building that appeared to be long abandoned. Smiling devilishly, Ravena drew apart the wall of ivy, revealing a hole in the wall that led into darkness. Flicking the rain out of her hair, she stepped through the portal. Taurin followed her gingerly.
The room he found himself in was dark, musty and small—but at the same time it was surprisingly warm and unexpectedly hospitable. The curtain of ivy cut the wind, and Ravena quickly lit a lantern, casting all but the deepest corners in light. A small mattress lay in one corner, a pile of blankets resting on top. Apart from the makeshift bed and several barrels, the room was quite empty. A heavy door led further into the building.
"This is where I've been staying these past couple of weeks," Ravena informed her guest. "This house has been abandoned for a few months, from the looks of things, and a cave-in has blocked the front entrance." A slight smile crossed her face and was gone. "So everyone thought it was impossible to get inside. But I found my way inside after a few days lost in Peldor. I was so exhausted that I took the first mattress and the first blankets that I could find and lay down to rest. I chose this room because I was scared there still might be people in the house; this way, I could get out quickly if they found me. The next day I got around to exploring the house more fully, and I found a proper bedroom. It's quite a big house. And abandoned. I don't know what happened to the owners. Why don't I show you around?"
Ravena spent perhaps an hour showing Taurin around her new home, the rain forgotten except for the constant thrumming against the roof and the grey light that filtered through the uncurtained bedroom windows.
"Why did you run away?" Taurin asked suddenly. The two children had finished their circuit of the house and were in the bedroom upstairs. Ravena was lying on the bed, her clothes standing out against the dusty white sheets. Taurin was slumped in a velvet chair nearby. The question came to him suddenly, and it was out of his mouth before he could think better of it. He hesitated after speaking, immediately unsure whether the question was an appropriate one.
Ravena's face became very serious. After hesitating for a few moments, she answered. "I haven't told anyone this. When people ask why I ran away, I tell them that I had a fight with my parents and left. You seem different from everyone else, like I can trust you if I tell you the truth?" Her eyes were haunted now and her voice was anxious. "I can trust you, can't I, Taurin?"
Somewhat caught off guard, he nodded. "You can trust me, Ravena."
Ravena swallowed slightly then began to speak very quickly. "There are black things hunting me. I don't know what they are, because they only come out at night and I've never got a proper look at them, but I'm sure they're not human. They were stalking me in Katheton and they chased me here." She had an urgent look in her eyes, something close to terror. "Nobody else sees them. Some of the men searched the town but couldn't find them. I'm not sure whether anybody believes me or not. I thought they'd go away if I left Katheton, but they followed me all the way to the city. They nearly caught me on the way here. They've left me alone since I got here, but I'm not sure whether that's because they won't enter the city, or because they just haven't found me yet." Her voice was strained, her eyes watery. "I'm really scared, Taurin."
The boy from Bellguard reached out instinctively and clasped her hand. Unsure of what he was supposed to say, he sat there dumbly for several moments. "Everything will be okay," he managed lamely.
Ravena hung her head slightly. "I hope it will. I want to leave Peldor one day."
"Do you know why they're hunting you?"
The dark-haired girl hesitated slightly then shook her head. "No, I'm not sure." It was a lie; Taurin could tell that she knew the reason or could at least guess it, but she didn't want to tell him. He fought down his disappointment. It was her business, and she would tell him when she was ready.
Ravena glanced at the window facing out over the street below, and Taurin quickly followed her gaze. Through the foggy glass he could see what his ears had told him already; the rain had abated. It had not died away completely, but it had faded to a drizzle rather than a downpour. He stared at the window in contemplation, his thoughts turning to the creatures that stalked the girl as well as his own dark nemesis. Suddenly Ravena smiled at him, a slight flash of white that cut through his dark imaginings. He felt his arm being tugged, and he realised that he was still clasping her hand. He tried to let it go, but her grip was surprisingly tight. "I'm scared, Taurin," came her soft, insistent voice. He met her eyes, and found courage mingled with the terror he saw in their gentle brown depths. "I'm scared, but I'm not going to let that fact control my life. You and I are going to walk out there into the city. The rain's gone now, or most of it anyway, so we're going to walk out and see some more landmarks, and I'm not going to let myself think about black creatures or anything else. You're not going to let me think of them, either. Are we agreed?"
Meeting her steady gaze, Taurin found himself smiling, thoughts of stalkers and hunters already half forgotten. "Okay, Ravena. We're agreed."
They walked for perhaps half an hour through Peldor's streets with no particular destination and no real urgency, doing their best to ignore the gloomy weather and the iron horizon, talking of the unimportant events that had made up their lives so far and finding something new to observe around every corner. Taurin considered asking Ravena to take him to the Healing Chambers, but reasoned that if all the shops and museums were closed today, there would probably be no visitors allowed in the Old Castle either.
The two children had just turned a corner, moving from one lonely street far removed from the city's main roadways into another, when Ravena's knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Taurin went to help her, when suddenly a dizzy spell hit him, too. It lasted for only a moment, and when it passed Ravena was back on her feet beside him. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just felt a little faint."
Taurin was about to point out that the same sensation had come over him when he saw something that drained the colour from his face. A man had just entered the street and was walking ahead of them, a lean fellow garbed in grey and wearing a black hat left damp by the earlier rain. Even from behind he was recognisable. Taurin had seen him only once, but that memory would never fade. "The Collector …" he whispered to himself.
Ravena glanced at him quizzically, and he quickly urged her to silence by placing a finger to her lips. "That man attacked me two days ago," he explained, his voice a barely audible breath. "He hurt my father, and he said he'd kill me. He's called the Collector."
Ravena removed his finger and frowned slightly. "I've heard of him." She spoke very quietly as her eyes watched the Collector recede into the drizzle. "He's a very dangerous man, and he's killed a lot of people. Let's follow him for a while."
Taurin had to pause for a moment to convince himself that he hadn't misunderstood her. "You're insane," he managed at last.
"No, I'm not." Ravena was adamant now, already convinced that her idea was a good one. "The city guards have been trying to catch this man for months, but they don't know where he hides. Maybe he's going back to his lair right now. If we can follow him all the way to wherever he's going and take a quick look inside, we might be able to give the guards some useful advice." She looked at him intensely, her brown eyes ablaze with determination. Taurin revised his judgement. This girl was not insane; she was epileptic.
"He's promised to kill me if he sees me again, Ravena."
"He will see you again, Taurin. Leaving him alone won't do anything to keep you alive." Already she was moving forward, careful to avoid any puddles, fearful that any noise would alert their quarry. "But if we can help the guards catch him, he won't be able to hurt you. He won't be able to hurt anyone." She was beyond convincing, so Taurin followed her, his entire body quivering, his heart pounding so fiercely he was sure the Collector would hear it.
Before too long, they caught sight of the grey-clad criminal once again. The rain had intensified, falling in steady sheets that kept them hidden from view but also made tracking the Collector difficult. Somehow they kept him in their sights and remained unseen, following him through a maze of empty streets before emerging in front of a colossal building that Taurin recognised immediately. "The Hall of Royalty," he breathed in amazement.
Ravena grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a looming statue of two soldiers crossing swords just as the Collector swivelled to cast his eyes over the small plaza behind him. Peering over the statue's base, through a gap between one of the soldier's legs, Taurin could see the grey-clad man ascending the steps that led to the Hall's massive doorway. From a hidden pocket, the Collector drew forth a giant key and approached the doors. Even from where he hid, Taurin could hear the giant lock click open. Casting one final brief glance over the plaza, the Collector slipped inside, closing the door behind him.
Taurin released the breath he did not know he had been holding. "Whatever he's doing here, it's not his lair. Come on, Ravena. Let's go."
But the dark-haired girl shook her head. "He's obviously here for something important. I want to know what it is." A frown crossed her smooth forehead quickly before disappearing. "Besides, keys to the Hall of Royalty aren't very easy to come by. I'd be surprised if there's more than one key to the Hall in the whole city. Wherever the Collector stole that key from, it would have been well guarded. He's come here for something big."
"If he has, then we have no chance of stopping him." Aware that his voice betrayed his urgency, he forced himself to speak more calmly. "This man is a killer. He's a thief and a killer. And he has magic. If we follow him, we might die. Even if we somehow walk out of there alive, what can we do to stop him, Ravena? What can we do?"
She shrugged slightly, then rose from where she had been hiding. Before Taurin could stop her, she was walking towards the doorway. Casting a glance back in his direction, she shot him a disarming smile. "We won't find out by crouching behind that statue. Who knows? Perhaps we'll surprise ourselves." With that, she was walking purposefully towards the stairs, a miserable Taurin trailing.
"The door will probably be locked, anyway," he offered hopefully. "If we're lucky, we won't be able to get in."
The glance she directed at him was confused. "We were here yesterday. You saw the door then. It only locks from the outside. Remember?"
"I … don't notice things like that," he replied truthfully. He forced himself to grin. "You'd make a pretty good thief yourself, from the sound of it."
To Taurin's dismay, the girl looked well pleased. Then she grinned back at him and shook her head. "I've always been quite good at observing small things that others miss. Not too much gets by me. But we can leave the thief work to the Collector. And his crimes are about to catch up with him." She sounded so confident, so sure of herself, that Taurin found himself believing her. Perhaps they would leave the Hall of Royalty. Perhaps they would even discover something that would lead to the Collector's downfall. Doubt still gnawed at him from inside, but he fought it down, determined to match Ravena's bravery.
As Ravena had predicted, the door was still unlocked. The girl from Katheton eased it open gently, careful to make no noise, determined to avoid being seen from inside. Apparently the hallway was empty, because she motioned Taurin to follow and then slipped inside.
The hallway was exactly as Taurin had remembered it from the day before, except that this time there were no sentries. Blinking, he quickly noticed another difference. At the base of the four steps that led to the chamber housing the Sword of Legend, a square of red carpet had been pulled away, a hidden partition in the apparently seamless surface. The exposed floor revealed a stone trapdoor. Taurin groaned in dismay, the thought of following his quarry into darkness not at all appealing. Ravena's eyes sparkled.
Taurin did not even try stopping her this time as she headed towards the trap door. He could tell by now that it would be of no use. He followed her down a flight of stone steps and along a subterranean corridor, also paved with stone. It ended at a marble archway, an entry into unfathomable blackness.
The two children pressed through the archway and after a brief journey through darkness were surprised to find themselves on a marble balcony overlooking a deep room. A crystal chandelier hung from a vaulted ceiling, its light not particularly strong, but still bright enough to dispel some of the shadows. A long flight of stairs led from the balcony down into the room below, but Taurin was in no hurry to descend those stairs. Through a gap in the thin marble columns that formed the railing, he could see the Collector standing below. The outlaw's attention was totally preoccupied, so Taurin felt safe enough assuming a position against the marble railing, watching him. Ravena quickly joined him.
From out of the shadows below emerged a being so terrifying that Taurin almost let loose a yell. Beside him, Ravena looked ill, her tanned face suddenly gone very white. The figure was human—or at least human-shaped, because it was impossible to tell anything about it beneath the all-concealing black robes and cloak that it wore. Its head was covered by a black hood, and the little light that pierced this cowl fell upon a dull metal mask, broken only by two holes where the creature's eyes must be, holes that the light could not penetrate. The creature's shoulders were each covered by a black metal plate, each one dominated by a large black spike. Death seemed to hang about the black-clad creature like a pall, and it exuded a chill so severe that Taurin found himself shivering even from where he hid. The Collector looked positively harmless next to this new arrival. In fact, the Collector looked terrified.
"You have arrived at last." The black-clad one spoke, its voice at once both soft and powerful, sophisticated and terrible. "You are the one they call the Collector."
"Yes, that is what they call me." Taurin recalled the Collector's voice as being almost eloquent. Apart from the tone of fear that the outlaw could not disguise, it was exactly as he remembered it. Yet next to the black-clad creature's voice it seemed somehow ordinary; it was no less cultured than last time, but the other's voice was by far the more compelling. It sounded almost majestic. "And they call you Morathia."
"They have called me by many names. That is one of them." The tone now was almost reflective, as if the black-robed man was considering the distant past. "I have called you here, and you have come."
"I'm interested in hearing what you have to say, even if it has to be in the same building as the bones of every king back to Emen Baron." He was beginning to control his fear, and his voice was becoming increasingly bold. "But make it quick, because I have many other things to do."
"Not every king," the other amended, and the Collector looked confused, but kept silent. "I am aware of your other tasks, Collector, but stealing artefacts and terrorising travellers will have to wait."
"Don't be so quick to judge me," challenged the Collector. "I serve myself, and that is more than you will ever be able to claim."
Morathia paused for a moment, and the world seemed to stand still. A worried look crept across the Collector's face, and his hand went to the long knife by his side. But when the dark man spoke, his voice was neither angry nor any colder than before. If anything, it was amused. "I serve another master, and that is true. I also serve a cause bigger than myself. That is one claim you will never make."
The two figures regarded each other coolly for what seemed like an eternity. Their eyes were locked together in a test of wills, the Collector's two chips of obsidian staring into the shadowed holes in Morathia's mask. The Collector broke the stare first, glancing down quickly and then back up again. "It is a claim I never want to make," he stated defiantly. "Now, let's hear what you have to say."
"I have a task for you, Collector," Morathia offered, his voice cold and smooth.
"I probably won't accept it. I do what I want, when I want."
Morathia shifted slightly, and the shadows in the room seemed to gather around him, a pall of gloom that choked all light. "Right now, you want to do as I say. The rewards for doing so are compelling. The consequences for doing otherwise are not something you wish to contemplate."
Silence hung in the air for a moment before the Collector spoke again. When he did so, it was with something close to a sneer. Apparently, he had conquered his fear totally, at least for the moment. "You don't frighten me, Fiend of Darkness. I am skilled with my dagger, and I have magic at my command. I could slay you right now if I so chose." From next to where he crouched, Taurin heard a sharp intake of breath. Ravena found the outlaw's behaviour quite as bold as he did.
"You are welcome to try." It was an offer rather than a challenge, spoken without fear and with no bravado. "But once again, the consequences of failure are not the sort you would welcome."
The Collector glared at the one he had called the Fiend of Darkness, and then unsheathed a cruel dagger from his side. For an instant that contained an age of the world, the two men regarded one another. Then the Collector scowled, and shoved the dagger back into his belt. "Let's hear what you have to say."
Morathia spread his gloved hands wide, and the dim light far above seemed to fade away. "I seek a stone." He spoke quietly, and yet his voice held a dreadful intensity. Taurin found himself leaning forward in anticipation, though Morathia's voice easily carried to the far corners of the chamber. "I seek a stone that is a relic from another age of the world, an age that is now almost forgotten. It would appear to you to be almost made from glass, like a clear-walled prison holding captive blue light. You must bring it to me."
The Collector's eyes shone with something that might have been hunger. "This stone is magical, is it not?" He stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"It contains a measure of the very lifeblood of the earth." The shadows flickered as Morathia spoke, then grew darker as if feeding off his words. "Its power is awesome, and can serve many purposes. You do not have the power to use it. You never will. This stone will never be of any use to you, Collector, but in the right hands it can bring about miracles. Return it to me, and I will reward you greatly."
"Perhaps this task is worthwhile. Where can I find this stone? You must know something of its whereabouts."
"I do. But it is sealed away, beyond my reach. There is a cave about midway between the towns of Flinden and Katheton, at the base of a range called the Skalten Hills. You will recognise the cave when you see it, for its entrance is blocked by a slab of stone engraved with the old royal crest. I do not know what traps await within the cave, but I am certain you can overcome them."
"What of the seal?" The Collector cocked an eyebrow. "If it is so powerful that you cannot unlock it, then why should I be able to?"
"The old seals grow weak. And you are a clever man. You will find a way inside the cave. Now leave." Morathia took a step backwards, and it appeared that he would fade into the very shadows.
"One moment," challenged the other. "We have yet to discuss my reward." He stared at Morathia defiantly, and the man clad in darkness looked back.
Taurin felt a warm hand on his arm, and turned to find Ravena looking at him, her eyes grown large in the dim light. "They'll be finished soon," she whispered. "We want to be out of here when that happens." Suiting her own words, she began creeping back towards the archway. Removing himself from the railing, Taurin followed.
Far below, the Collector continued to glare at his new business partner, oblivious to the happenings above. But Morathia broke his gaze briefly—not that the Collector could see anything of what his eyes did—and glanced towards the shadowy balcony. Beneath the mask of iron, his hidden mouth settled into something that might have been a smile.