Elaine Cunningham - Honor Among Thieves

Several days had passed since Honor’s “rescue”outside of Rhendish Manor. Plans to recover the Thorn movedsteadily forward; in fact, things were going so well that Honor wasstarting to believe that her quest might come to a successfulclose. Her life would never be the same, but on a day such as this,with the summer sun warm on her face and an early morning rainstill scenting the air, the forest did not seem so very faraway.

Fox and his companions thought she was spending theafternoon in the den, studying maps of Stormwall Island and readinghistories of Muldonny’s role in the overthrow of the sorcererEldreath. The thief and his friends would not approve of herwandering about the city on her own.

Honor didn’t begrudge them this attitude. It was,after all, her business that absorbed their full attention. Butshe’d spent almost every hour since her awakening below ground; infact, she so seldom left the tunnels that no hint of the Greeninghad touched her skin and hair. She was still nearly as pale as theCarmot dwarves who lived deep beneath the city.

The small colony of dwarves who worked the tunnelsbelow the Fox Den supported Honor’s suspicions about Delgar. He wasopening the old passages, preparing the way for more dwarves tofollow. She’d seen enough of Sevrin to know the adepts could notpermit this to happen.

Her people did not support the idea of overthrowingSevrin’s human rulers. That might change now that an adept’s menhad found the Starsingers Grove, but elves were slow to embracechange.

Too slow, in Honor’s opinion.

For the first time, she began to understand whyDelgar had thrown his lot in with a pair of humans and an impetuousfairy. There were times when things had to be done now .Humans understood that necessity, and fairies had little concept ofanything other than “now.”

Still, working with humans was risky. Honor hadnoticed Fox’s regard shifting to dangerous territory over the lastfew days. He’d been a child when she pulled him from the river. Hewas now a young man, and to human eyes she appeared to be a youngwoman. And judging from the company he kept, Fox was drawn to theold magic and the people who embodied it.

Honor had not been the only one to notice Fox’sattentiveness. She often sensed Vishni’s gaze following her, andshe noted the calculating gleam in the fairy’s dark eyes. A jealousfairy could present a dangerous complication.

Avidan, on the other hand, was largely oblivious toHonor’s presence. The fey-touched alchemist had embraced his roleas a visiting alchemist and spent most of his time working withvials of foul-smelling liquids. Honor had little doubt that when anopportunity finally arose, he could hold his own in conversationwith Muldonny.

Each member of the Fox Den had a reason for helpingHonor, but Delgar was the only one who understood the importance ofher quest.

And that was another problem.

Most Carmot dwarves believed their affinity forcarmite gave them an innate and sacred right to possess it. Delgarmight say otherwise, but he had not yet heard the Thorn’s song. Thecall of like to like might well prove too powerful to resist. Honorhad resigned herself to the possibility that she might have tofight Delgar for possession of the Thorn before this was over.

A street urchin bumped into her. Honor immediatelyslapped one hand over her coin purse and spun to face a second boy.His jaunty pace never faltered, but she caught a glimpse of thesmall crescent knife he quickly palmed.

Fox had warned her about this basic cut-purse ploywhen he’d tied the coin purse to her belt. Everyone in Sevrincarried one, he claimed, even if they held a few flat stones ratherthan coins. It was not prudent to be seen without one. There wereno indigent people in Sevrin, just as there was no crime and nomagic.

And for that matter, no elves.

Suddenly Honor’s determination to take a solitarywalk struck her as self-indulgent and dangerous. The adepts haddefined an ideal Sevrin, and they maintained that appearance byrigorously pruning away anything which did not conform to thedesired shape.

A strange hum, like the burn of muscles forced tohold still for too long, began to spread through Honor’s limbs. Herfeet went numb. Icy torpor crept up her legs until she couldneither feel nor command them.

She expected to stumble and fall, but she did not.Without will or intent, she turned down a paved street that endedin an imposing white stone building.

For one panic-filled moment, she considered seizingthe iron fence and hanging on until the compulsion stopped. Butthat would draw attention she could not afford.

So she walked to the building and climbed the broadwhite stairs. Runes on a large wood sign over the door indicatedthat this was the Sevrin Library. The carved image of books andscrolls embellished the sign for no reason Honor could perceive,except perhaps to keep the illiterate from wandering into thebuilding by mistake. Another time, she might have chosen to explorewhat humans considered important enough to commit to page andparchment.

But she could not choose.

A profound sense of helplessness and violation washedover her. This compulsion, this utter loss of control, was farworse than the terror of awakening in Rhendish’s lair.

She walked past shelf after shelf of books in a roomnearly as large as a forest clearing. To her ears, each quiet stepsounded like a soft, dry sob.

Her traitorous feet took her to a row of doors at theback of the library, then to the door at the very end of the row.She pushed it open and was not at all surprised to see Rhendishsitting at a small polished table.

He gestured to the second chair. Bitterness rose inHonor’s throat like bile as she took the seat.

“I suppose you want me to take you to the thieves’den now.”

The adept’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “Have youretrieved the dagger so soon?”

She shook her head.

“Then our original agreement stands. Once you havereclaimed your property, I will require your assistance in locatingthe Fox’s lair.”

“Why are you so interested in him?”

He tsked gently. “I did not demand to know what valueyour dagger held for you. Is it not enough that he leads a band ofthieves who can disappear into the shadows like roaches?”

“You captured the dwarf without my assistance.”

“The opportunity arose. And you must admit that hemade admirable bait.”

“You could have taken Fox when he came to rescue hisfriend.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “That would have given me two ofthe thieves, but no guarantee that they would reveal the locationof their den or the secret to their way of moving about the city.You will provide that, in due time. I assume they trust you? Theyare helping you in your quest?”

“They are helping.”

Rhendish leaned forward, concern shadowing hisforest-hued eyes. “But they don’t trust you. Have you given themreason to suspect you are working with me?”

“Apart from meeting with you in a public place in themiddle of the day?”

“A valid point,” he said in a dry tone. “You may wantto peruse a volume or two to explain your interest in the library,if you’re called upon to do so. But I cannot stress too stronglythe importance of keeping our alliance secret. It could mean yourlife.”

“It is late in the game for threats,” she said.

“I wasn’t threatening you. To the contrary! My onlydesire is to ensure that you fully understand your situation.”

He tapped on the one of the walls. The door opened. Aman with a long blond beard and a chest as broad as an elk’s filledthe doorway.

The adept motioned the big man inside. “This isVolgo, the captain of my personal guard. He led the expedition intothe forest. Ask him what you will.”