Douglas Niles - The Heir of Kayolin

And the rebel wave came on.

“So when can we do it again?” Peat asked, scooping the diamonds he had just counted-for about the twentieth time-off the worktable and into a small, sturdy lockbox. He turned the key to secure the little chest and muttered a spell of sealing as he touched the lid. That secured the gems against any lock-picking thief, and the box would stay that way until he got the urge to count the stones again.

“I thought you couldn’t wait until we got out of here ourselves,” his wife replied tartly.

“What? Now? No! This is the business chance of our lifetime. Why, we made more steel from that Hylar than we have in twenty years of peddling potions and gadgets!” Peat beamed, thinking of all that treasure in gemstones; he knew there was more, much more, to be made. “So when can we do it again?” he repeated.

Sadie frowned. “I’ve been thinking about that.” She glanced around, confirming that they were alone-a rather extreme precaution since they were in the back room of the shop and the front door was locked with the Closed sign prominently displayed. “We better make sure the king’s men don’t find out that we’ve opened up a magic way out of Thorbardin.”

“Of course I know that!” Peat retorted. “It’s got to remain a secret from the king, sure. But you have made one copy of the spell; make another one, and then you can cast it again as soon as we find another dwarf or two willing to pay for the dimension door.”

“So,” Sadie challenged him. “That’s what’s troubling me. How do we get more customers when we can’t let anyone know what we’re doing? Not the king, and certainly not the Master; you can imagine what he’d do if he found out we’re freelancing!”

Peat frowned, scratching his balding head. “That’s a problem,” he admitted. “We’ve gotta be careful, so we can’t advertise. And those Hylar came right to us. We were just lucky the first time, I guess.”

A loud knock banged against the front door, and both Guilders looked at each other, wide eyed and trembling. Moving toward the front of the shop, Peat was startled to hear a great commotion, shouting and crying and the trampling of many feet, coming from out in the street.

“Well, go see who it is!” Sadie demanded, collecting her wits.

The old dwarf clumped to the front door and opened it a crack. He saw dwarves running past, fleeing from the square, screaming in panic-something about a monster and rebel butchers running wild. Right in front of him stood Abercrumb, his fist raised for another knock on the door. He wasted no time in pushing his way into the shop.

“You know we’re closed!” the Theiwar merchant protested feebly, still gawking at the chaos in the street.

“Who isn’t?” the silversmith replied. “I mean, I was keeping my own place locked and my sword handy, just in case things got worse. And they have! Now look what’s happening!”

“What’s going on?” demanded Sadie, hobbling out of the back room.

“The rebels are storming the palace!” Abercrumb replied indignantly. “There’s some monster afoot too. Those folks out there are lucky to have gotten out of the square with their lives! As for me, I’m just trying to avoid ruin and thought we should stick together in these dangerous times.”

“Yes, stick together,” Peat repeated unenthusiastically. He added rather pointedly, “You’re right about how close we all are to ruin. Why, we haven’t had a customer in weeks!”

“Oh?” Abercrumb said, raising his eyebrows. “I thought I saw a rather prosperous-looking fellow-Hylar, if I guess correctly-coming in here just yesterday. Looked like he brought his whole family with him. Had the look of real wealth about him too. So he wasn’t a customer?”

“No!” Peat said, feeling a knot grow in his stomach. “He was-was lost! Very lost. Was looking for directions to-to-”

“He couldn’t remember where, that’s where,” Sadie interjected. “And he left a few minutes later. I hope the poor fellow found his way.”

“Oh, I see. Well, thank you,” said Abercrumb, shifting his penetrating glance from one Guilder to the other. “Though, funny thing. I was sitting by my front window all night, yesterday. Nothing else to do, you know. And I could swear I never saw that Hylar leave. Never saw any of ’em leave.”

“Oh,” Sadie said quickly. “Most likely, you drifted off to sleep and didn’t see him leave. Let me guess-did you have a bottle of dwarf spirits near at hand?”

Abercrumb flushed. “Well, there’s no call for that sort of remark!” he huffed before stiffly turning and stomping out the door. Peat noticed that the crowd in the street had thinned to a few stragglers, though sounds of battle still rang from the direction of the square.

Sadie wasted no time in slamming the door shut behind him, while Peat swiftly refastened the lock. “So the Master’s forces are storming the palace!” he croaked.

“Good,” she said. “He’ll have other things on his mind until the battle is through.”

Still, the elderly Theiwar were trembling as they made their way into the back room, looking at each other’s wide eyes and ashen faces.

“Do you think Abercrumb suspects anything?” asked Peat, his voice tremulous.

“Of course not!” Sadie snapped. “How could he have the slightest idea what we are up to? I don’t think there’s a Hylar in Thorbardin who even imagines that a dimension door is possible, much less than I am able to cast one. Still, I don’t like him visiting all the time. I think he has friends in the court. He’s too nosy-and too close-for comfort.”

“What are we going to do about this? About him? About everything?” moaned Peat, sitting on a work stool and wringing his hands.

“Well, we’re not going to panic, for one thing,” Sadie said firmly. “Now, stop groaning and let’s talk this over.”

Peat drew a ragged breath, and they began to talk. Had anyone else seen the refugees coming through the shop? They hoped not. Did anyone else suspect they had a fortune in gems in a secret lockbox? They really hoped not. Had they attracted the attention of the king or, even more terrifying, Willim the Black? They really, really hoped not. Sadie reassured Peat, and Peat reassured Sadie, and they started to make a plan.

All the same, they were both startled when, a few hours later, another knock sounded from the front door. It was much quieter than Abercrumb’s, but both Guilders just about jumped out of their skin when they heard the tapping. Still, Peat made his way to the door, opened it, and found another dwarf standing there. He was dressed in a fine silk cloak, and he looked surreptitiously up and down the street, which was at last empty and quiet.

“Hurry-come in!” said Sadie, following her husband closely and all but yanking the dwarf into the shop. “What do you want?”

“Well, I … it’s kind of a secret,” the dwarf said. He appeared to be a swarthy Daergar, but the gold chains adorning his neck and the sparkling buttons and cufflinks on his tunic suggested a personage who was very well off financially. “I have, that is, I had a neighbor, Horth Dunstone. A Hylar merchant. Perhaps you know him?”

The two Theiwar looked at each other, eyes wide. “You had a neighbor, you said,” Sadie repeated. “What happened to him?”

“Well, I know he was anxious, desperate even, to get himself and his family out of Thorbardin. He told me, in the strictest confidence, that you were going to help him.” The Daergar looked at them imploringly, but neither of the Guilders made any reply.

“So now, well, I was wondering … do you think you could do the same thing for me?”

Jungor Stonespringer stood on the highest rampart of his palace’s prayer tower-the same platform where the Theiwar assassin had tried to kill him, and where the assassin had paid for the treacherous attack with his own life. It was while examining the body of the foiled murderer that the king had first realized the truth about his enemy. Not just the fact that the assassin had been a Theiwar, but that he wore the garment of a black-robed mage.