The List Unseen, page 24
part #4 of Second Draeken War Series
She grunted in agreement, unable to dispel the tension from her body. Mounting her steed, she flicked the reins to follow Mazer's horse back onto the trail. She couldn't resist looking behind her, wondering if there were already eyes watching their movements.
The stand of trees soon gave way to the plains that dominated the southern kingdom of Talinor. Picking up the pace once the trail straightened, they rode over the gentle hills. Small communities dotted the western side of Talinor but they had chosen a more rural route. Well clear of the roads and travelers, they worked their way through thigh high grass and the occasional groupings of trees.
Throughout the heat of the day they rode in silence. For the first time since she'd revealed herself she felt a measure of distance between them. As much as she cared for him she could not bring herself to look into his emotions with magic. Holding her tongue, Ianna wished she knew what to say.
As night fell Ianna brought her horse to a halt. After eating a quick meal she struggled to let sleep come. With their trackers so close behind them they had decided to take turns keeping watch. In the silence and the dark Mazer sat while she tried to rest. Nervous and uncomfortable, Ianna spent one of the longest nights she could remember. By dawn they were on their horses once more.
Feeling irritable and weary, she spoke little throughout the following days. Where once she'd thought the sea of grass was beautiful, now it felt ominous and foreboding. She felt a wave of relief when the mountains of their cave home appeared in the distance. She flicked the reins, the urge to hurry dominating her thoughts.
Without a word Mazer accelerated to join her. At a trot they reached the woods and climbed into the foothills. By the next afternoon they had reached their cave. Pausing just long enough for Ianna to retrieve the amplious, they turned their horses southwest.
Long rumored to be the location of the fabled thieves' guild the swamps south of the Sea of Grass were fraught with danger. Extending for hundreds of miles, the land known as the Evermist had failed to be claimed by any nation. Despite bordering the sea on the west no towns or ports had lasted long on its shores. Surrounded by the barbarian mountains to the east, the amazonian jungles to the south, and Talinor to the north, the Evermist bog had been the site of countless battles and wars.
The conflicts had left the treacherous expanse littered with the dead, and their fortunes. In its depths quicksand and creatures had claimed as many lives as magic or the sword—yet its dangers did not deter treasure seekers. Goaded by the idea of lost artifacts, sacks of gold, and legendary weapons, countless had paid the ultimate price for their foolish ambitions.
Only the thieves’ guild knew how to pass through the mist.
Reaching the northern border of the swamp, Mazer dismounted. "We don't have a choice . . . do we."
"We must plant the amplious where only the thief will find it," she said, her tone apologetic as she joined him on the ground.
Removing their saddles and reins from their horses, they left them untethered at the edge of the grass. Ianna patted her steed’s neck and turned away. Horses did not fare well in the swamp. If they left them on the plains they would likely join one of the wild herds that were common in the region. She wondered if it was a better fate than their own.
Raising her chin, she strode into the mist. In seconds she and Mazer disappeared from view. Climbing over downed cypress trees and mossy rocks, they penetrated the bog. Within minutes the moisture had permeated her clothing. Speckling her face with its sticky embrace it left her feeling dirty and rank. Coupled with the stagnate heat it felt like the Evermist had swallowed them whole.
Without her magic they would have been lost in an hour.
Using her sight, Ianna kept them moving in a south-westerly direction. Avoiding deceptive pitfalls and invisible quicksand, she kept an eye out for the large cats that hunted in the mist. Although smaller than the tigrons of the north, the cats were masters of the hunt. Whereas tigrons or lions used their size and speed to take down their prey, the dark cats of the Evermist preferred to stalk their food. Pouncing out of nowhere, they were known to kill a man and withdraw before his companions even knew he was taken.
Although there were other denizens in the swamps, the rayth cats were the most feared. Fortunately Ianna could use her sight to spot large masses of energy. Bodies of human or beast were as clear to her as if they stood in an open field. But using her sight so frequently was tiring.
The gloom deepened, indicating night was falling. Selecting a large, mossy boulder, they put their backs to it and prepared for night. Her strength gone Ianna slept first. Visions of the future clogged her mind, fighting for attention. In the last one she stood before Sarow and the Hunter. His face cold and expressionless, the archmage told the Hunter to kill Mazer.
She awoke as the Hunter drew his sword.
Jerking upright, she saw that dawn was approaching. Whirling on Mazer, she saw that his gaze was already on her.
"Why didn't you wake me?" she demanded.
He raised a hand to placate her. "You haven't slept well in weeks, and we can't afford for you to get fatigued. In here—," he swept a hand at the bog, "—our lives will be forfeit on a single mistake."
A rumble came from deep in her throat but she couldn't deny the truth to his words. The ache in her head had diminished significantly, and for the first time in days she felt somewhat rested. "Don't you need some sleep as well?" she asked. Her annoyance that he was right colored her tone, but it only made him smile.
"Dwarf blood, remember? Give me an hour, no more. Then we should be moving on." Without waiting for an answer he lay down on her bedroll and was out in seconds.
Irritation warred with her gratitude, but didn't win the fight. A tender smile spreading on her lips, she reached down and touched his hand. Twitching at the contact, he remained asleep as she wove her fingers into his. Then she turned her gaze to the mist, and waited.
She woke him when the fog brightened. They rose and pressed deeper into the treacherous mass of spoiled water, dead trees, and muck. Even with Ianna's efforts to keep them on dry ground it was impossible to avoid the sucking mud. Time and again they sank into it, and were forced to backtrack to find another way.
After midday they found their first skeleton. Buried in the mire it was impossible to determine when they had died. With its skull crushed and a rusted sword at his side it was evident that he had been a soldier. Several of his limbs were missing, torn off by scavengers.
By nightfall they had passed a dozen more. Finding an embankment formed by the massive roots of a dead cypress they stopped for the night. Ianna suggested Mazer sleep first, and a single scathing look had stopped his protest. As his breathing slowed she settled herself in to wait once more.
Just before midnight the thieves came for them.
She'd been blinking into her sight every few minutes, and suddenly she saw several bodies surrounding their position. Startled, she nudged Mazer to alertness. As they rose to their feet a man stepped from the gloom.
"Very good," he said. "Not many hopefuls detect us before we reveal ourselves."
Mazer spoke before she could ask what he meant by hopeful.
"We were told to come here to seek employment," Mazer said, his voice even.
The man laughed at his choice of words. "Employment, eh? That's one I haven't heard before."
The man's smirk was arrogant, yet the dark eyes bespoke intelligence. Lean and fit, with black, straight hair, his clothes were clean and well-fitted, while his stance betrayed his skill with the dagger that hung on his hip. Not young or old, his features conveyed a propensity for violence.
"Are you who we seek then?" Mazer asked. "Or should we continue with our search?"
"That depends," the thief replied, his eyes shifting to Ianna. "We don't often find an elf in the mist. Could be your intentions aren't . . . honest."
A stroke of inspiration struck Ianna and she gestured to the thief. Casting a spell with the motion, she said, "If you doubt us, then turn us away. Your gold is sufficient to pay our way back to Talinor."
The man frowned and he checked his purse. Finding it empty his eyes widened. Then he burst into laughter once more. "Well done again! Illusion, or reality?"
"Illusion," she replied, "but it didn't have to be."
"The name is Slyver," he said, still chuckling. "And we will see if you are here to join the guild or not. If you survive the test you can talk to the guildmaster. It's up to him to decide if you are spies or not."
Motioning to the trees behind him, the other thieves appeared in view. As they approached with blindfolds, Slyver said, "Forgive us for our caution, but the nature of mankind requires us to be prudent."
Ianna threw Mazer a worried glance just before the blindfold covered her eyes. Activating her sight she could see through the scrap of cloth. She didn't consider it wise to inform them that it was useless. As rough hands grabbed her arms and led her forward she did her best to stumble as if she couldn't see.
"What's the test?" Mazer asked.
Slyver's menacing chuckle sent a chill through Ianna. Then the thief said, "You'll see the Machine soon enough."
With that their captors fell silent. Guiding them through the swamp they took a circuitous route past dangers and pitfalls. Their lack of hesitation in their chosen path demonstrated to Ianna that they knew it well, and knew what to avoid. For two hours the thieves took them through the mist until they reached a series of relatively clean lakes.
Hidden behind towering cypress trees, the lakes had dozens of islands dotting their surface. Masked by magic and camouflage, buildings towered above the foliage. Illusions and paint had been combined to make the buildings resemble a knot of giant trees. Rooftops appeared as arching branches and limbs. Connected by a series of rope bridges, the islands and their buildings formed a network of pathways hidden from any but the most observant of viewers.
As their blindfolds were removed she shifted back to her normal sight—and was stunned by what she saw. The entire place had disappeared. Without her magic to penetrate it, the mist shrouded the islands, blanketing them in its protective haze. Only the tops of the largest trees were still visible, and she could not discern a building’s shape among them.
"Hopefuls," Slyver said, a smug grin spreading on his features. "Welcome to the thieves’ guild."
Chapter 32: The Thieves’ Guild
Led by the thieves, they circled the water until they reached a break in the trees. Pulling a secret lever behind a tree, Slyver waited as the stirrings of machinery sounded from under their feet. Then a movement in the water drew Ianna's eye.
Rising from the depths, a long straight object climbed into sight. Splitting the surface the twin railings rose into the air. At four steps wide the bridge came next. Bursting into view it stretched from their position to the largest of the islands. Water cascaded off the slime encrusted stone as it reached its full height and slid into place. With the sound of an enormous locking bar sliding home, a heavy thunk resounded from under their feet.
Slyver stepped onto the wet surface. Splashing through the puddles, he strode into the mist. Halfway across he came to a halt and pointed to a trio of logs next to the bridge.
"Watch out for the crocodiles," he said. Adding emphasis to his words, he drew his dagger and speared a fish that had gotten caught on the bridge. Flicking it towards the logs he paused to watch them rise out of the water.
In a frenzy of armored hides and teeth they clawed each other for the treat. The largest won the struggle and snapped the fish out of the air. The loser retreated but opened its gigantic maw. A low hiss emanated from the crocodile, sending prickles up Ianna's back.
"They are well trained," Slyver said, "and are more than happy to eat intruders—or escapees. More often than not all we find is shredded clothing."
His warning given he chuckled and moved on, but the sound and the fish had drawn more. Long dark creatures surfaced on both sides of the bridge and several hissed a warning as the group passed. Finally they reached the other end and put the disturbing creatures out of view.
Slyver led them around a tree and down an incline of steps. Then he opened a rusted strongdoor and strode inside. As Ianna stepped through the portal she heard the machinery begin to crank as the bridge sank back into the lake's waters.
She was surprised by the cleanliness of the corridor. She'd expected filth and grime, but in its place she found smooth stone walls and flameless torches. Rounding a corner, they passed an elf dressed in servants garb attending to the lights. Scars marked the elf mage's face as she turned to Ianna, and she lowered her gaze as their party passed.
Unbidden rage suffused Ianna's frame. How long had the thieves' guild been using slaves? The practice had been abolished by a kingdom’s council a thousand years ago. What's more, how could they imprison an elf mage? It was infuriating for her to see one of her race without pride or hope of life.
Thoughts of hate and fury occupied her mind as they passed side corridors and staircases that ascended into what was unmistakably a fortress. Then they turned a corner and the tunnel broadened. Sounds of metal grinding on metal resounded as the walls receded. Gears clicked and then an explosion echoed. Turning again the walls widened into an enormous chamber that reached three hundred feet into the ceiling.
Filling the space, the Machine reached to the very top. Built in five sections, it was obviously designed for someone to climb—yet also intended to kill the climber. Blades of every size and shape protruded from it at random intervals, curving, spinning, and swinging. Bursting out of hidden gaps, they shredded the air until they disappeared once more. Random, deadly, and impossible to predict, they were just a fraction of the Machine's traps.
Hidden darts, explosive stonesap, and poison graced the wall. Nests of spiders, stone crushers, and other magical deterrents added to the pockmarked surface. Metal sections glowed red hot, and others ice white. At every turn the Machine conveyed a sense of lethal intent.
And then the Machine moved.
In a grinding of gears each of the five layers rotated on a circular base—and in opposite directions. If a climber held on for too long at any one section the Machine would carry them to the edge, where blasts of flame would roast them alive. Or they could risk the long fall to the unforgiving stone below.
"Welcome to the Machine, hopefuls," a well dressed thief said, wrenching Ianna's attention from the deathtrap before her. "You can get in the back of the line and await your turn."
Slyver gestured to the handful of men and women standing in a row. "You seem more prepared than most, so you might make it." His gaze lingered on Ianna. "Or at least one of you might. Teams are allowed, of course."
Swallowing her rising fear, Ianna stepped with Mazer to the back of the line. As they fell into place the Machine overseer addressed all of them. "Hopefuls, you have either demonstrated your skill and been invited, or sought the guild on your own. Either way we only take those with potential. Sticky fingers and arrogance are not enough. We take contracts from every corner of the five kingdoms, and we hold the highest of standards."
He waved his hand at the wall behind him. "At the top of each section there is a locked door. You can use any trick, tool, or weapon to reach it and get through. In the guild, thieves carry a rank, but you must reach the first door to be accepted at all. Reach the second and you will be a class two, and so forth.
"I give you a warning, though," the man said, beginning to pace. "Each level is a whole magnitude more difficult than the previous one—and no one has ever reached the top. Our guild boasts just two class four thieves, and one of them is the guildmaster. Slyver there is one of the few class three men we have. With each rank comes privileges, which include advanced training and a higher cut of your work. Once a year a thief can attempt the Machine again and try for a higher rank. Questions?"
"How many survive?" a thin man asked, his nervousness amplifying his nasal drawl.
"For first-timers? Less than half make it to the first door. One in fifty reach the second, and one in a thousand reaches the third. No hopeful has ever survived to the fourth."
"Get on with it!" A voice bellowed from behind Ianna, and she turned to see a dozen terraces overlooking the chamber. Packed with men and women the spectators were exchanging bets and pointing to the hopefuls.
The overseer grunted but motioned for the first in line. "Go whenever you are ready."
Cheers and shouts erupted from the other thieves as the first walked towards the wall. Shifting left and then right, he waited until the first door came into view. Curving slowly past the fire barricade on the extreme left edge, the door rotated towards the center.
Amidst calls for action the man nervously reached for a hold and began to climb. Angling his path past a section of spinning blades, he bypassed a hidden pair of crushers. Then he got stuck. Sweat beaded his forehead as he realized that there was no path upward. Slowly spinning right with the first level, he was running out of time.
Desperate, he tried to squeeze himself between a large spider’s nest and a gap in the wall. Exploding outward, a blade sliced towards him, missing him but tearing his tunic. In a rush he climbed past it. Unfortunately he didn't see the pattern of holes he'd climbed into. Grabbing an innocuous hold, he released a barrage of bolts that thudded into his chest.
His strength failing him he lost his grip. Issuing a desperate scream of pain and fear he fell thirty feet to the floor. The thud echoed louder than the Machine, but the ensuing laughter drowned them both out. A pair of slaves removed the corpse as jeers and catcalls came from the spectators.
"He barely made it halfway!"
"Give him another go, will ya? I'm sure he can do better next time."
"Hey, I still have a scar from that trap."
Ianna felt numb terror spreading into her limbs as the overseer called for the next hopeful. Considerably more nervous than the first, the man also waited until the first door appeared on the left. Choosing the exact same path as the first, he climbed past the holes without touching the knot that had killed his predecessor. Ten feet shy of the top he reached for a small hold that was the only one in his path.
