III
The first spring trading season had brought over a dozen new ships to Tierwaal's harbor, and in the light of the moon several standards could be seen fluttering in the breeze on the moored merchant ships. Just as varied as their home ports were the cargoes they carried; tobacco, cotton, and spices from Urhal, wool and flax from Mardan, wood furniture and copper from Tourant, and glassware that would be taken from Utrecht to the other nations. Even the occasional magical item, created by the wizards of Tierwaal for clients in distant cities, found their way into the warehouses, kept under heavy guard and additionally protected by wards and spells.
Annika, however, cared very little for the cargoes that the ships carried. Pirates might have been interested in a ship's hold full of spices or copper, but all Annika really needed was a handful of gold coins and perhaps a few small items of jewelry. One good night could get her back into Bartel's good graces, pay off the debts she had accumulated trying to stay out of the winter snows and rains, and maybe even buy her some new clothes to replace the tattered, dirty rags she currently wore. Moored along the pier in front of her, the Urhalian merchant vessel that had arrived the previous day floated serenely in the light of the half moon that had risen over Tierwaal, her night watch completely uninterested in anything more than their pipes or wineskins as they sat on the pier supports. Somewhere inside that ship was a heavy pay chest, enough to pay thirty Urhalian sailors or allow Annika a chance to free herself from the harbor gangs. The thief cautiously edged her way closer to the pier, keeping hidden behind the wall of one of the many dockside warehouses as she drew her new rod from the folds of her ragged cloak. With a bit of a smile, Annika raised the rod, pointing it at the Urhalian ship.
"I wonder what this does," Annika said smugly.
This time, there was no flash when she spoke. For a moment the thief hesitated, not knowing what had happened, but her confusion turned to shock as she noticed a large, dark patch spreading rapidly along the cobbles of the docks. Cautiously the thief lowered herself to one knee, until she could clearly see what it was growing up from the cobbled street.
"Grass?" Annika said, feeling the lush new growth with the tips of her fingers. The thief stood up as she watched the patch of grass take over the dockside alley, her shock turning quickly to frustration. "What's going on? I don't need grass! I need to be invisible!"
The rod in her hand gave her no answer.
"I wonder what this does!" Annika repeated forcefully, raising the rod to bang it against her free hand.
A deafening boom rocked the waterfront as a ball of incandescent fire erupted from the tip of the rod. The sudden blast of heat and sound knocked Annika back on the ground as a huge fireball arced up into the sky over the harbor. For a long moment the thief's dark eyes remained locked on the fireball, watching as her errant spell reached its zenith and began to descend.
"No, no, no!" Annika shouted, jumping back to her feet as she saw the fireball's inevitable destination. "No, turn, go out, something, anything!"
The fireball did not die, or turn. Instead it impacted with the mainmast of the Urhalian merchant ship, detonating in a brilliant plume of white fire. As Annika watched helplessly, the fire quickly spread to include the furled sails on the mast and dropped embers to the deck below. Annika watched in horror as the night watch scrambled to try to find some way to stop the fire burning through the rigging, but quickly the thief noticed one of the Urhalians pointing frantically at her and shouting in his own language. The thief hesitated only another second on the dock before she turned and sprinted into the darkness, praying that the Urhalian watchman had not seen more than a shadow in the alley.
Haven-straat was a notoriously dangerous place after the sun set, but thankfully, for once it seemed like it would be a peaceful night.
With half of his shift over, Zarne van Erison was finally beginning to relax as he turned the corner of Zilveren-straat and found himself on Haven-straat for the third time that night. His typical tour included four circuits of the dockside streets, walking west to east along Haven-straat and coming back to his beginning point one block up along the comparatively well lit Lantaarn-straat. Both roads were tightly packed with inns, taverns, flophouses, and cheap rooms where sailors and shoremen alike made their homes or rented quarters while their ships remained in harbor, and most nights saw at least a handful of brawls as the inhabitants became more and more inebriated. Somehow, his first two circuits had found either quiet taverns or another constable already on scene to control the fights that had erupted. As Zarne began to pass one particularly quiet inn, the constable stopped and smoothed out the forest green tunic he wore over his chain shirt as his hazel eyes swept over the remarkably passive tap room.
"Maybe I will get through the night without any bruises," Zarne decided with a bit of a smirk. Satisfied with his night for the first time in months, the constable turned his face to the north, letting the breeze blowing in off the water tousle his short, coarse black hair as he took a moment to enjoy the night air.
A dull boom suddenly sounded off of the docks. Above the waterfront a large ball of fire momentarily came into view, arcing up into the sky and descending rapidly out of sight. A second explosion followed almost immediately after the fireball disappeared behind the low rooftops, casting a dull yellow glow back above the warehouses. As Zarne stared for a moment in astonishment at the spectacle, a half dozen bar patrons crammed together at the doors as they tried to see what had just occurred.
"What was that?" one of the patrons asked, seeing the black and green striped cloak that marked Zarne as a constable.
"Get back inside!" Zarne ordered, quickly starting towards the explosions. Although he had no idea what he would find on the other side of the warehouses, it was his job to keep order on the docks. The constable crossed Haven-straat at a full sprint, his hand already dropping to the long sword hanging on his belt as he turned into the alleys leading to the waterfront.
He had only taken one step into the darkened alley when he crashed into a far smaller figure rushing away from the docks. The impact and suddenness of the collision sent both Zarne and his opposite tumbling to the ground in a tangle of arms, legs, and a metallic ringing as the newcomer's weapon clattered off of the cobbles. Quickly Zarne turned and found the haft of the metal object, but at the same time his opponent also grabbed the weapon by the other end.
"Let go!" a young, female voice shrieked frantically. Zarne yanked the weapon forward with all of his might, dragging a young girl into his shoulder and blasting the wind from her lungs.
"Annika?" Zarne asked, finally seeing his "attacker" in the light of the inns on Haven-straat. The teenage thief's curly brown hair had formed a curtain in front of her face, but Annika nonetheless fought desperately against the constable's grip even as she choked for breath.
"Van Erison?" Annika exclaimed, finally managing to push her unruly hair out of her face. The thief's dark eyes shone with fear as she looked up at the constable, but her struggle ended only momentarily before she tried again to free herself with all her strength.
"Annika, what happened?" Zarne demanded, grabbing her wrist and trying to shake her free of her weapon. Able to see more clearly, the constable found the metal object to be an ornately engraved bronze rod, maybe a foot and a half in length. The sight of the rod and Annika's panic stricken face began to fall into place with the sudden explosions…
"Please let me go it wasn't my fault I swear if they find out they'll kill me!" Annika blurted out, almost too quickly for Zarne to follow.
"Annika, slow down!" Zarne demanded, shoving the thief against one wall to hold her still. Still the thief tried everything she could to free herself, even landing a vicious kick to the constable's knee. Grunting with pain and nearly losing his balance, Zarne shifted himself enough to fall into Annika rather than away, nearly crushing her against the wall as he tried to regain his footing. "Annika, I can't help you if you keep fighting me!"
More voices could be heard approaching rapidly from the waterfront. Zarne turned quickly to see a half dozen men armed with clubs or short, heavy bladed swords charging into the alley.
"That's her!" the man in the lead shouted, pointing with his sword at the trapped thief. "Hold her!"
"Let me go they'll kill me!" Annika screamed, clawing at Zarne's arms and kicking fiercely again.
"She is attacker!" another of the apparent sailors shouted in horribly accented Utrecht. "You hold her!"
"I wonder what this does!" Annika suddenly shouted. Zarne turned back to her, growing more and more confused by the second, but before he could figure out the cryptic statement something slammed into his face.
Zarne tumbled to the ground under the impact of the sudden assault. The constable threw his hands up to shield his face, but even as he did so he finally saw what had hit him. Enormous butterflies and moths in a rainbow of colors were swarming through the alley, knocking over everyone in their path. Zarne quickly rolled to his stomach and turned on Annika, but the thief was already back on her feet and trying to shove her way through the mess of butterflies that she had created.
"Annika, get back here!" the constable demanded, jumping to his feet. He had only just stood up when the butterflies swarmed over him again, knocking him back into the wall and dragging him away from the thief in their last flight to escape the dingy alley. By the time the horde of insects had lifted, Annika had managed to flee into the night.
"Where is girl?" one of the sailors bellowed, staggering back to his feet and swatting away a last brightly colored butterfly. "Where is girl?"
"What happened?" Zarne demanded, stepping into the sailors' path before they could spill out into Haven-straat.
"She eat our ship!" another of the sailors exclaimed in a heavy Urhalian accent. Zarne opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unable to respond to the bizarre accusation.
"She… ate your sheep?" the constable tried.
"She eat our ship!" the Urhalian repeated. The sailors stopped for a moment, looking to each other and talking quickly in their own language. Finally, the original speaker turned back to Zarne, bringing his anger under control. "She… burn? Burn our ship!"
"She burned your ship?" Zarne concluded.
"Yes, fire on ship!" another of the sailors confirmed. "Fire ball, fall on ship, burn ship!"
"A fireball?" Zarne repeated. Whatever Annika had found, it was certainly causing a lot of problems.
"We want her!" a third sailor shouted. "She pay for burn ship!"
"Go back to your ship," Zarne ordered, remaining in the path of the irate sailors. "I am a constable, and I will find the girl. Once she is found, she is to be tried in the courts, not lynched on the docks."
"She is attacker!" the first Urhalian shouted. "She try to kill us!"
"And she will face the magistrate!" Zarne countered boldly, locking angry gazes with the Urhalian sailors. "You men go back to your ship and let the magistrate handle this!"
"You protect her!" the Urhalian sailor snarled, stepping to within an inch of the constable. Zarne refused to back down. "We kill you too!"
"Six of you will most likely kill me," Zarne said evenly, pulling his dagger from his belt and jabbing the Urhalian in the stomach. The sailor glanced down at the blade, losing some of his courage. "Rest assured though, you'll be in the Abyss to greet me when I get there."
The Urhalian hesitated for a long moment, glancing from the dagger to Zarne's unflinching hazel eyes. Finally, the sailor backed up a step.
"You find her, bring her before magistrate," the man said angrily. "You punish her!"
"And you go back to your ship," Zarne said. Slowly the Urhalians turned and started back to the docks, reluctantly obeying the constable's order. Zarne watched the sailors leave for only a moment, making certain that they indeed had no further plans to scours the docks for the young thief, before he quickly turned and hurried into the middle of Haven-straat. The time he had lost arguing with the Urhalians had cost him the chance to catch Annika; the young thief was nothing if not a fast runner, and she had long since disappeared into the darkness along the waterfront. With a final curse and a kick at the cobbles, Zarne started back along his patrol route, trying to figure out where the thief might have gone.