V
"We want blood!"
"I understand your desire for vengeance, Evgeny," Bartel said, looking up from the worn surface of his corner table at the Broken Harpoon. The gang leader's typical table was the only untouched piece of furniture in the entire common room of the tavern, now open to the beautiful spring weather on two sides where Annika's demon had knocked down the walls of the building. Instead of dingy lamp light, the common room was lit by the same gray dawn as the streets outside, allowing for even deeper shadows in the far corners of the common room where the walls still stood. While the rest of the Broken Harpoon would have to be demolished and rebuilt, a cost which Bartel would have much preferred to have avoided, the gang leader had decided to conduct one last piece of business in his now ruined establishment. "I mean, look around you! My favorite inn has been destroyed!"
"We not care about inn!" Evgeny snapped, leaning down on the table in a show of intimidation to the far smaller Bartel. Evgeny was large by almost any standard of the word, measuring a full six feet or more in height and seemingly almost as wide at the shoulders. With his wild black beard, barrel chest, and aggressive, dark eyes, the first mate of the Urhalian merchant vessel Narval was certainly an imposing figure. But with two of his men hidden in the wreckage of the bar and the alcove to the storage cellar wielding poisoned daggers, even a giant such as Evgeny was not quite so fearsome. "We want girl! She burn our ship!"
"I told you I would find her," Bartel assured the Urhalian, trying not to smile at the sailor's horrendous accent. The gang leader was still not entirely certain if Annika had burned Evgeny's ship or overcooked a side of mutton. "I have people all through the city, and I have even stationed men at both of the gates to make certain she doesn't try to slip out on a caravan or disappear into the farmlands. But for now, the only thing we can do is wait until the little girl shows herself, Evgeny. In the meantime, yelling at me won't do anything for either of us."
Evgeny spent another moment leaning over the table, trying one last time to intimidate the gang leader, but Bartel refused to flinch. Finally, the Urhalian straightened, and took a step away from the table.
"We trust you now," the sailor said, anger still evident in his voice. "But if you lie to us, we kill you as well as girl."
"I'm certain you'll try," Bartel said in a dismissive tone. Evgeny hesitated a moment longer, but finally turned and stalked out through the remains of the tavern. Bartel watched the Urhalian disappear along Haven-straat before finally shaking his head and sighing in frustration. Evgeny was certainly not a major problem in the grand scheme of things, but the Urhalian sailors could make things far more bothersome if they began tearing up the docks and Haven-straat in a brutal search for one reckless, irritating thief. With trade season only beginning, the last thing Bartel needed was such an interruption. Even as Bartel dropped his face into one hand in a gesture of fatigue and frustration, however, a quiet knock sounded at what remained of the front wall.
"I hope this isn't a bad time," a deep, quiet voice queried from the front of the common room. Bartel looked up with another sigh as he recognized the speaker's voice. "Is the bar still open?"
"What can I do for you today, Espen?" Bartel inquired as Espen gingerly made his way through the Broken Harpoon's wreckage. The tall, lanky leader of the Wharf Rats, arguably the most powerful thief and assassin in Tierwaal, allowed a smile to play along his thin lips as he ran a hand along his bald, shiny scalp. As always, the assassin was dressed in plain, though finely tailored black clothes, broken only by a royal violet sash around his waist. Although Espen, as always, appeared unarmed, Bartel was certain the rival gang leader had a number of hidden daggers on his person. "I don't mean to be rude, but we'll be closing soon for some… repairs."
"Ah, yes," Espen said, his smile broadening slightly as he looked across the ruined common room. "Having a bit of trouble with the locals?"
"You might say that," Bartel replied, rolling his eyes. Espen took another few seconds to appraise the damage, but finally turned back to Bartel.
"Some of my people said a thief of yours is responsible for this," the assassin informed Bartel. "And that she tried to burn an Urhalian merchant vessel to its waterline?"
"Annika," Bartel said. "We're having a little bit of trouble finding and… disciplining her at the moment."
"Annika," Espen repeated, lost in thought for a moment. Then he nodded. "Yes, I think I remember her. A pretty girl, dark eyes, a brunette if I recall."
"Yes, that would be her," Bartel confirmed, eager to move the conversation forward. "Is there something you want from me, Espen? Because I'm really kind of busy right now."
"Bartel, I almost detect a hint of ill will in your voice," Espen said, applying a hint of melodramatics to his demeanor.
"The question stands," Bartel stated flatly. Espen took a moment, idly examining his well manicured fingers before he spoke again.
"The girl has come into possession of a magical rod," the assassin said.
"The source of all our problems," Bartel explained with a gesture to his ruined bar.
"I would very much appreciate it if you would give me that rod, once you find and deal with the girl," Espen said. "I think I may have uses for such an item."
"You want that thing?" Bartel asked, uncertain what Espen would want with what, to him at least, seemed to be a cursed item. The gang leader paused for a moment, then folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward slightly. "Understand that I cannot… guarantee that she hasn't already discarded the rod."
"Ah, and so we come to the part where you seek some… incentive," Espen concluded, smiling as he shook his head slightly. Bartel nodded simply. "And what exactly was your idea of incentive?"
"Every year we pay you for our space on the docks," Bartel said. "This year, I don't want to pay that fee."
"Bartel, you are lucky that we have not put you and the girl down already for what she has done," Espen said, a sinister undertone beginning to creep into his voice.
"Put the girl down, for all I care," Bartel said. Though he still wanted to get some kind of profit out of her after all the damage she had done, the gang leader was willing to cut his losses with her mere demise. "She's cost me enough already. I just lost the Broken Harpoon before the bulk of the trade season!"
"My heart bleeds for you," Espen said. "But I will still drive you out of the city if you don't pay the proper fees."
"The rod covers the fees," Bartel stated, putting a definite note of finality into his voice.
"Don't play with me," Espen growled, growing openly threatening.
"If we fight, you'll win," Bartel said evenly. "I know that. But I'll make sure to hurt you bad enough that the others will finish you off. A hundred pieces of gold is really not all that much in the grand scheme of things, is it? Or are you willing to destroy yourself for it?"
Espen's cold blue eyes locked onto Bartel for a long moment, but the gang leader somehow managed to keep his cool in the face of the assassin's wrath. Finally, however, Espen smiled, and his sinister demeanor disappeared entirely.
"Fifty gold this year, instead of a hundred," the assassin offered. "Turn over the rod to me, and that's all you need to pay."
"Twenty-five," Bartel tried. Espen shook his head.
"Don't play with me," the assassin repeated. "Fifty gold, or your thieves may begin to have serious problems."
"Okay," Bartel said, deciding not to push his luck any farther. "Fifty gold and the rod. As long as we find it."
"I think I might be able to help you with that," Espen said with a smile.
It felt like he had only just fallen asleep when the early morning sun woke him.
Zarne rubbed his eyes and slowly rolled out of the shaft of sunlight leaking in through his partially opened shutters, debating for a long moment if he should try to get some more sleep or wake up and face the day. As his mind cleared, however, he remembered exactly why he was sleeping on the floor instead of in his bed, and the constable quickly lifted himself into a sitting position. With a final yawn, Zarne looked to the bed and his overnight guest.
Annika was still sound asleep, hidden beneath the blankets except for her head. The long gash that Bartel's whip had dug into her cheek was even more glaring in the daytime, marring the otherwise angelic innocence she seemed to possess while asleep. For a long moment, the constable could not help but feel sorry for the girl; she was only one of dozens of dockside orphans in Tierwaal, abandoned by the prostitutes that had given birth to them in back alleys or seedy taverns. The Church of Pelor and Tierwaal's Council of Mages did try to help the unfortunate children, but the church could only take in a handful each year and the Council seemed to always have more pressing matters to attend to when it came time to build orphanages or round up the children. As a result, most thieves ended up calling thugs like Bartel or Espen father, and such fathers demanded that their new families become accomplished thieves. During his first two years as a constable Zarne had nearly gone broke trying to help the conscripted thieves and orphans, swearing that he would never become like the jaded, cynical watchmen who had taught him the basics of keeping order on the docks. But now, nine years after his first patrol and approaching his twenty-eighth spring, he found himself acting just like his one time mentors. He helped when he could, but there was only so much that one constable could do, and there were several thieves who were more than willing to take advantage Zarne's occasional kindness. Over the year and a half that Zarne had known her, Annika seemed to be a fairly genuine girl and unhappy as a thief, and those factors had played heavily on his decision to help the poor girl out of her current predicament.
One look at the bronze rod lying on the floor next to his bed, however, banished any feelings of pity for the moment. Annika had successfully burned the rigging out of a merchant ship, summoned a creature that had demolished four buildings, conjured a swarm of butterflies, and even made his door sprout a lush assortment of leaves with the bizarre magical device. The Urhalians and Bartel were all after her, and the last thing the constable wanted was for his small boarding room to be the next battleground for vengeance or money. Zarne quickly took care of morning business, then turned back to Annika to wake the young thief. After another appraisal of the gash to her check, however, Zarne opened the tiny closet in the corner of his room and pulled out a little jar set back on the top shelf. With the jar in hand, he walked back to the bed, and gently shook Annika's shoulder.
"It wasn't my fault!" Annika exclaimed, scrambling away from the constable. The thief backed up against the wall with an audible thump, but the impact seemed to knock the grogginess from her mind. Quickly Annika composed herself, remaining against the wall but relaxing visibly.
"So you keep saying," Zarne said, smiling slightly in an effort to calm the girl. Annika returned the gesture with a faintly embarrassed smile of her own as she slowly slid back to the center of the bed. "Let's have a look at that cut on your cheek," the constable suggested.
"It just aches a little," Annika said, hesitantly leaning forward slightly. Zarne examined the wound for a moment, then placed the jar on the edge of the bed and removed the cap. "What is that?" Annika inquired, her eyes dropping to the paste inside the jar.
"Something I got from the church," Zarne replied, scooping a little bit of the ointment out with his fingertips. "It's not the most potent healing salve in the world, but with any luck, your cut won't scar so badly."
"I… thank you," Annika said, her eyes on the constable's face as Zarne carefully applied the salve. A hint of suspicion lingered in the thief's eyes as he took care of her injury, almost as if she expected to have to repay the kindness somehow in the future. Zarne could not blame her for her suspicions; after all, Bartel or Espen would demand something in return for such meager assistance, if they even offered the help at all. "It kind of tingles," the thief said as Zarne finished.
"That means it's working, I think," the constable said. He handed her the jar. "You can take care of your leg, and get cleaned up a little," Zarne instructed. "We have a lot to do today if we want to find out where that rod came from."
"But… how are we going to find the owner?" Annika asked. "How do we even know if there is an owner? I told you, it fell out of the sky."
"We'll start where you found it," Zarne explained. The constable paused for a moment, then turned back to Annika with a bit of a smile. "Of course, with everything you managed to destroy last night, it's possible the owner will find us."
"So how do you think Espen knew she was here?"
"He's got thirty-four thieves working for him," Tiede pointed out as he leaned back against the corner of a building opposite Zarne van Erison's boarding house. "I would think one of them saw her leaving the Broken Harpoon after that… thing destroyed it."
"The rhinoceros?" Niels inquired, juggling a trio of muffins as he sat crosslegged in the alley. Tiede turned back to his companion.
"I can't believe you actually remembered the name of that thing," the older of the two thieves said, shaking his head at his redheaded cohort. Probably somewhere around fifteen or sixteen, Niels was tall and almost rail thin, but despite his gangly appearance was lightning quick with the daggers he hid in the sleeves of his ragged clothing. Tiede was a good two or three inches shorter than his ally at somewhere around five and a half feet tall, he was possessed of a more burly frame than his companion, and was almost nineteen, marking him as one of the senior thieves in Bartel's coterie. While Niels was certainly more agile and deft than his friend, Tiede more than compensated for the lack of dexterity with experience, strength, and a mean streak that made him the premier mugger on Haven-straat. Niels smiled up at his sandy haired companion, his blue eyes sparkling with good humor.
"How could you not remember a name like that?" Niels inquired with a broad grin that displayed a wide gap where his front teeth had once been.
"Are you gonna eat those muffins, or juggle them all day?" Tiede asked, ignoring the younger thief's query.
"Why, you hungry?" Niels asked in reply. The redhead tossed one of the muffins to his partner before Tiede could answer, barely breaking his steady juggling. Tiede caught the food easily and nodded his thanks, returning his attention to the bare, whitewashed door to van Erison's three story boarding house. "Remind me again why we don't just go up there, bop them on the head, and drag Annika off with us," Niels said, finally ending his juggling act and eating one of the muffins himself.
"Because, you idiot, she's with van Erison," Tiede answered, barely sparing a glance over his shoulder. "We want to separate the two of them and then get her back to Bartel. It's easier that way."
"Oh," Niels said, shrugging. The younger mugger stood up and dusted his pants off as he joined his partner. "You think he's taking advantage of her up there?"
"Doubt it," Tiede said, dismissing the idea of van Erison having his way with the embattled thief. "He seems to like the girl too much to force himself on her. Besides, I heard he got his heart broken by a bard or something like that. He hasn't gone after another girl since."
"Maybe he decided it's time to move on," Niels said with a bit of a leer. "I mean, I wouldn't mind laying with her for a while."
"I'll let Bartel know you'd like first dibs on her," Tiede said. "Assuming you have the money to pay him for her."
"We'll borrow it from van Erison," Niels suggested, his grin broadening.
"Great idea," Tiede said, though he could not completely suppress his own smirk. His mirth quickly disappeared, however, as his mark and her new guardian stepped out of the door to van Erison's boarding house. "Quiet down," Tiede instructed. "There they are."
"She's still got the rod," Niels observed, seeing the bronze bar that Annika had poorly concealed under her ragged cloak.
"Yeah, we need that," Tiede said. Niels grabbed him by the arm as he was about to start after the pair.
"What if she throws another fireball at us?" the younger mugger asked nervously. Tiede stared at his companion for a moment with a disbelieving look on his face.
"Then duck," he finally said, as if the answer was completely obvious.
"Just think about where you found it."
"In the Magie Vierkant," Annika replied, keeping alongside Zarne as the constable made his way through the first merchants and shoppers along Muur-straat. While the street was currently occupied by a few well placed stalls and a handful of early risers, during the height of the day farmers and craftsmen from the fields and villages surrounding Tierwaal would turn the thoroughfare into a crowded shopping district.
"Yeah, but where in the Magie Vierkant?" Zarne pressed, trying to get some kind of useful information out of his new companion. "Did you get it off of a stall, or out of a shop, or-"
"I told you, it fell out of the sky," Annika interrupted. The thief wandered slightly to one side as she spoke, closing in on a diminutive cart full of apples and pears. "I was in the middle of the square, and it just fell in front of me."
"It was right in the middle of the square?" Zarne asked, grabbing the thief's wrist as she tried to take an apple off of the corner of the cart. Annika turned a furious scowl on the constable as he caught her in the act. "Think. What buildings were right next to you? Who was standing right next to you? Magic rods don't just fall out of the sky."
"There was no one next to me," Annika repeated, trying for a different apple. Again Zarne stopped her, giving her a stern glare as he took the fruit out of her hand and replaced it on the cart. "I mean, I as between that weird looking tower and the Boekerij-Tovenaar, but-"
"The tower," Zarne repeated, nodding. It's at least thirty feet tall. Maybe the rod could have fallen from there?"
"Maybe," Annika said sullenly, shrugging as she tried to edge her way to a different part of the cart. Zarne rolled his eyes.
"Are you hungry?" the constable inquired irritably, growing rapidly tired of the girl's constant attempts at the fruit on the cart.
"Starving!" Annika exclaimed, her mood lightening instantly as she expected the constable to buy some food for her. Zarne let out a sigh of frustration, but reluctantly dug into his purse and withdrew a handful of copper pieces. The cart's owner instantly appeared at the constable's side as soon as he touched his belt, smiling amiably
"How much?" the constable inquired, turning to the man.
"Four copper," the merchant replied with almost sickening good humor. Zarne's jaw dropped open.
"Four copper?" the constable repeated, incredulous. He pointed to Annika. "I thought she was the thief!"
"Thanks," Annika grumbled.
"Look at them! Almost fresh from the tree, and this so far from the apple harvest!" the merchant explained, his bright smile still in place. "Where else, dear friend, could you find such fresh apples in spring?"
"All right, all right," Zarne grumbled, handing the money over to the merchant and taking his food. Annika devoured her apple as the pair walked in silence the rest of the way to Oosten-straat and turned north, then turned a sad, longing look on the constable as he slowly bit into his breakfast. For a moment the constable tried to ignore the girl, but then turned to her. "This one is mine," he stated simply. "You're lucky you got one in the first place."
"But… I haven't eaten in three days," Annika said, giving the constable her most pathetic, innocent act as she stared at the half eaten apple.
"I'm sure you haven't," Zarne said sardonically as he entered the north end of the Magie Vierkant. Annika rolled her eyes and looked away. "Now, if we could get back to the business of getting rid of this rod, where did you find it?"
Annika turned a sullen, disappointed look to Zarne as she began to answer his question, but before she could speak her eyes went wide in terror. Even as Zarne turned to face whatever had caught her attention, something slammed into the side of his head, knocking him senseless and throwing him to the ground.
"She turned you blue?"
"Yes, she turned me blue," Gerrit muttered, wishing he had never mentioned the previous day's inconvenience to Willem. The older mage was standing just outside the door to his tower as Gerrit made certain his papers were with him, ready to continue the debate over the extension of the Tierwaal docks past the western wall of the city. "It really was not as funny as you seem to think it was."
"I wish I had been here to see that," Willem said, his full gray beard only partially obscuring the broad grin on the wizard's face. "That Sanna really does amuse me sometimes. A rod of wonder, with a command word of wonder! She's priceless!"
"Yes, well, maybe you would like to rein in your mirth a little and concentrate on the task at hand," Gerrit said, his words coming out a bit more harshly than even he had intended. Sanna's actions had been nothing short of stupid, that was true, but it still did not sit well with the wizard to have his companions laugh at the sorceress in front of him.
"Oh, come now, Gerrit, you know I mean nothing by it," Willem said, apparently realizing the reason for Gerrit's irritable answer. "She is a lovely woman with a heart of pure gold, but even you cannot deny her scatterbrained antics."
"Of course not," Gerrit mumbled as the two men turned north to start up to the municipal buildings set in the heart of Tierwaal. Willem slapped the younger mage on the back heartily as he took his place next to Gerrit.
"You're going to have to learn to laugh over her absentminded nature sooner or later," Willem said. Gerrit shrugged. "Still in love with the woman, I see," Willem concluded.
"No, it's not that, it's just…" Gerrit started. The wizard's statement trailed off, however, as the two men cleared Gerrit's tower and found themselves walking into an apparent brawl. One man was already on the ground, a large bruise already spreading across his right temple, while two younger men turned on a girl that had already been backed into a corner.
"Another lovely morning in Tierwaal," Willem said, pushing his sleeves back slightly in preparation for a spell. The older wizard hesitated for a moment, staring at the man on the ground. "Isn't that one a constable?" Willem inquired nonchalantly.
"We can find out after the web spells take hold," Gerrit decided, calling to mind the perfect spell for detaining the local miscreants. While brawls were almost commonplace on the waterfront, the Magie Vierkant was rarely troubled by fights, and the wizard took the intrusion upon his neighborhood personally.
Just as Gerrit was about to cast his web spell, however, the girl reached under her cloak and drew out a magnificent bronze rod, its beautiful engravings easily noticeable even across the thirty or forty feet that separated them. The girl used the rod to knock away one of her attackers' clubs, then quickly turned the staff on the two young men.
"I wonder what this does!" the girl screamed at the top of her lungs. Gerrit's shock at hearing the girl's shout lasted only a heartbeat before he was blinded by a sudden barrage of flashing lights. Willem shouted in pain and confusion as the rod of wonder also stole his sight.
"Annika, you little bitch!" someone shouted from the general direction of the brawl. Gerrit's sight was already beginning to return, but the fading swirls of light in front of his eyes kept him from seeing anything more of the girl or her attackers.
"Zarne! Zarne, come on, wake up!" the girl that had activated the rod exclaimed frantically.
"Tiede, I can't see!" someone else shouted. "Where is she?"
"I got her!" the first young man exclaimed. Gerrit's vision finally cleared enough to see one of the young men stumbling about, one hand on the girl's cloak as he tried to feel his way towards her. The girl, already on her knees next to the man that had originally been downed, turned and used the rod as a club, knocking her blind attacker away from her. "I'm gonna kill you, Annika!" the man shouted, drawing a pair of daggers from his sleeves. Once again Annika brought the rod to bear.
"I wonder what this does!" she screamed again, still trying to shake her companion awake. The young man lunged for her even as she spoke, but by the time she had finished her statement, both Annika and her semiconscious companion had vanished into thin air.
"Blasted stupid lights!" Willem shouted, still rubbing at his eyes to return his sight. With their targets gone, the two young muggers were already disappearing into the alleys on the northern end of the Magie Vierkant, but the boys were of no concern to Gerrit as he tried to force himself to believe what he had just seen. Without another word the mage turned and raced back to his tower, all thoughts of the Council of Mages gone from his mind.