Elaine Cunningham - Honor Among Thieves

“Believe him,” Vishni said firmly.

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” Delgarmurmured.

Avidan recognized sarcasm in the dwarf’s voice. Itoccurred to him that he had heard Delgar use this tone before. Infact, it was exceeding familiar, perhaps even habitual. When timepermitted, he would reconsider the dwarf’s past comments in thelight of this new insight.

Fox looked skeptical. “I suppose I can sit with himuntil he wakes up. If you’re right, I can give him some story aboutsaving him from street thugs. One look at my face, and he’ll knowI’ve been fighting someone. If you’re wrong, I can hit him againand we’ll go back to the original plan.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Delgar said. He bent down andslung the man over his shoulder. “You go first. I’ll hand him downto you and then I’ll take it from there.”

“Clothes,” Fox reminded him. “Papers, jewelry.”

The dwarf grimaced and lowered the unconscious man tothe floor. He and Fox made short work of stripping him of hisVeldooni finery.

Avidan traded clothing with Shavin Insa’amid and slidhis kinsman’s rings onto his fingers. The fit could not have beenbetter if they’d been made to his measure.

Fox’s gaze slid from Avidan to the unconscious man.“The resemblance is remarkable. Good thinking, Vishni. This makesthings easier.”

“Considerably,” Avidan said. “Go about your businessnow. I will meet you in the Fox Den later tonight.”

He stood a little taller than was his custom and hespoke with an authority he had not assumed for three generations.It did not seem strange to him that Fox and the dwarf did as he bidthem.

Nor did it feel as strange as he might have expectedto be wearing the layers of embroidered silk that stillcharacterized the clothing of his homeland. In a land of ancientways and ancient arts, styles changed but little with a singlepassing century.

Vishni eyed him with approval. “You look like MasterInsa’amid now.”

The alchemist returned her gaze steadily. “I alwaysdid. As you well know.”

“Crazier than three caged squirrels,” Delgar mutteredas he pulled the stone door shut behind him.

Delgar and Fox returned to the den shortly aftermoonrise. They did not speak of the hour or the moon, but Honorknew. She could sense the rising of the moon despite the tons ofearth and stone between her and the Silver Lady.

She could do this despite whatever it was thatRhendish had done to her.

Her joy in this discovery was, however, swiftly mutedby her concern for Avidan’s absence.

Midnight came and went before the alchemist returned.Honor, who had been pacing the tunnels, pulled up short at theentrance to the mirror room. The alchemist stood before the strangeglass, his gaze lost to lands far beyond the woodland pondreflected in the mirror.

The scent of night air clung to the alchemist’s silkgarments, a delicate note amid the chorus of sandalwood and herbsperfuming them.

“You were out walking,” she said. “Did you run intoFox and Delgar? They went out looking for you a couple of hoursago.”

Avidan turned toward her. His face, backlit by thesoft sunrise glow coming from the mirror, was haggard and drawn,twisted with emotions she understood all too well.

“You do not sleep. I envy you.”

She did not require an explanation. Her oneexperience with dreams was nothing she cared to repeat.

“I’ve completed the research you requested,” shesaid. “There are many descriptions of what Muldonny’s liquidweapons can do, but very little about how they are made.”

Avidan dismissed this with a flick of his fingers.“Give it to Fox. The information may be of use to him.”

Before Honor’s astonishment had a chance to turn toindignation, he added, “The solution you requested is ready totest.”

He strode from the room without waiting for herresponse. Honor trotted to his side and fell into step.

They made their way to Avidan’s workroom withoutfurther speech. He placed a small glass beaker on his table andpushed it toward her. Beside the beaker he placed a small, sharpknife.

Honor used it to make a shallow cut on her wrist. Sheheld it over the beaker and let the blood drop into thecontainer.

After a few moments Avidan nodded. “That issufficient.”

She took the strip of cloth he handed her. While shewrapped her wrist, Avidan inserted a thin glass tube into thebeaker.

A narrow crimson thread rose toward his hand as bloodflowed up the tube.

“Capillary action,” Avidan said. “Liquid will flowupward in a narrow opening.”

She tipped her head toward the vase of wild carrotblossoms, now nearly as red as the liquid in the vial. “Just likein the meadow flowers.”

“Precisely.”

“And the solution you made will react with my bloodeven when it’s dry?”

“Wait and see.”

Honor watched as the thin line crept toward the topof the tube. A faint glow dawned in the heart of the tiny bulb.

“Enough?” Avidan asked.

The elf shook her head. “I need a more dramaticeffect.”

“A stronger solution is possible, but dangerous. Itwould become unstable when combined with blood.”

“That’s not a deterrent,” Honor said. “If you cangive me a few seconds, I’ll make it work.”

Avidan studied her as if he were beholding her forthe first time. “You are placing a great deal of confidence in theability of a madman.”

She took a few moments to choose her words. “SupposeI was offered two swords and told to pick one to take into battle.One of these swords new and gleaming and perfect, the other nickedand dulled through countless battles yet strong enough to hold anedge. Which do you think I would choose?”

“The analogy does not hold. I am no elven blade.”

“You,” she said firmly, “are beyond doubt thestrongest and sanest man I have ever met. Anyone else would haveshattered long ago.”

The alchemist’s gaze dropped to the beaker of blood.A long moment passed. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes heldclarity, determination, and an expression that Honor had only seenturned upon her sister the queen.

“For that-”

He broke off, shook his head, and began again. “For you , I would craft a substance that can turn the night skyto flame.”

Fox spent the night in fitful slumber, waking upagain and again from dreams that explored ways tomorrow’senterprise could go awry. Somehow he doubted a single night wassufficient to cover all possibilities.

Long before sunrise, he gave up any attempt at sleepand sought out Avidan. The alchemist was already awake and at work.A faint red glow came from a small beaker on the table.

“Working on a new source of light for thetunnels?”

Avidan looked up, a thoughtful expression on hisface. “That might be a useful application. I suppose we could makea deal with that butcher on Redcloak for supplies.”

Fox grimaced. “I don’t want to know. Ready topractice?”

They spent the next two hours going over signals,memorizing questions, running scenarios that might occur and howbest to deal with each. The trip to Stormwall Island occupiedseveral hours more, but shortly after midday Fox and Avidanpresented themselves at the gate to Muldonny’s domain.

The adept was famous for using only clockwork guardsand servants within his inner walls, but a small battalion of armedmen patrolled the outer bailey.

A grizzled old soldier took the papers Avidanproffered and gave the alchemist and his servant carefulscrutiny.

Fox was reasonably certain they would passinspection. Avidan looked the part of a visiting Veldoonialchemist. He’d even cut his hair, which greatly increased hisresemblance to Shavin Insa’amid. Fox wore clothes he’d removed froma tinsmith’s clothesline-simple garments of good but middlingquality, such as might be expected in an important man’s servant.Avidan’s unguents covered the bruises on Fox’s face and darkenedhis skin to a hue nearly approaching the alchemist’s. He’d darkenedhis red hair with a black dye that Avidan swore, and Fox dearlyhoped, was temporary.