Elaine Cunningham - Honor Among Thieves

In the courtyard beyond, Rhendish was enjoying aleisurely stroll with his beautiful clockwork spy. A bandagedwrapped her wounded arm, and the Thorn hung from a loop on herbelt.

The clockwork elf looked up and caught Fox’s eye.

He expected her to sound the alarm. What he did notexpect was the silent entreaty in her eyes.

She lifted one hand and ran her fingertips lightlyacross her chin. Fox had taught Avidan that signal in case theirforay into Muldonny’s fortress went awry.

Return home. Friends are safe and waiting .

The suicidal madness that possessed him flowed awaylike water from a broken skin. He slipped quietly down the wall andwalked out of Rhendish manor. A couple of the guards glanced hisway, their gazes lingering on his red hair. But no one seemed toconnect him to the thief they’d been hunting for years.

It occurred to Fox that Rhendish probably thought hewas dead. No doubt he had Honor to thank for that.

He tried four of Delgar’s hidden doors before hefound one that was still open. Once he made his way into thetunnels, he hurried toward the den, half fearing he’d find itoverrun with Gatherers and guards.

He heard Vishni’s laughter when he was still twopassages away from the den and broke into a run. He burst into themirror room to find his three friends holding wine goblets raisedin a toast.

Delgar tossed aside his goblet and caught Fox in acrushing hug.

“Vishni’s alive!” Fox said.

The dwarf released him and stepped back. “She is,yes. But we thought we’d celebrate anyway.”

“But how-”

Fox’s eyes fell upon the Thorn and all other thoughtsfled.

He’d never seen the dagger close up, but he knew thiscould be no other. Delgar’s copies were good, but they lacked thepower that hummed in the weapon like an unsung song.

As he gazed, the rose petals within the crystal bladefolded to herald the setting sun.

“Honor threw the dagger to Vishni. The fairy caughtit and brought it to me. We closed the tunnel.” Delgar spread hishands, palms up.

“You’re not much of a storyteller,” the fairy said,“but that will do.”

“Vishni said you had a story to tell us about Honor,”Delgar said.

Fox told them what he had seen in Rhendish’s garden.For reasons he did not quite understand, he didn’t tell them aboutthe clockwork he’d glimpsed under her skin.

“Well, that explains a few things.” Delgar pulled aglass copy from his belt. “You only took two copies to StormwallIsland. This is the last one left in the den. I figured she tookthe others.”

“If Rhendish thinks he has the dagger, he won’t belooking for it,” Fox said. “Impressive planning.”

“Even more impressive is her sense of honor,” thedwarf said. “She’s well named.”

Fox turned a wry smile in Vishni’s direction. “Do youhave anything to add to the accolades?”

The fairy smiled sweetly. “She’s not half bad,considering what she is.”

Honor sat in stoic silence as the adept probed theclockwork in her arm with a slender metal tool.

“The mechanism is broken,” he announced. “I fear it’spast repairing. It will need to be replaced.”

“Remove it, then.”

Rhendish shook his head. “That would take months.Years, perhaps. It would be a terribly painful process, and there’sno guarantee that you would survive it.”

“And if I did, you would have no guarantee that I’dbe of further use to you.”

“A harsh assessment,” he said, “but truenonetheless.”

“Give me my sword arm back, and I’ll serve you of myown will.”

The adept smiled. “As much as I appreciate the offer,you must forgive me if I prefer my own proven methods to yourunproven word.”

Honor pulled the dagger from her belt and laid it onthe worktable. “You offered me a position if I decided not toreturn to the forest. Well, I’ve decided. Everything you said wastrue. The dagger will condemn me, for the rose blooms at the touchof a traitor’s blood.”

She picked up the dagger and pressed it deep into theopen wound.

Blood flowed into the blade, rising up a tiny pipeAvidan had hidden in the long stem of the rosebud. It flowed intothe tightly furled rose, and then into tiny, petal-shaped chambersbehind the rosebud, each petal thinner than a whisper’s shadow. Toall appearances, the rose was blooming in response to a traitor’sblood.

Finally the blood reached the last rose petalchamber, where Avidan’s latest alchemical marvel waited.

The substance ignited at the first touch of Honor’sblood. Rhendish watched, entranced, as light dawned in the heart ofthe blade and gained brightness and power until it seemed that therose itself might catch fire.

Honor jerked the knife from her arm. “That is what mysister expected the other elves to see. I intend to ensure theywill not.”

She rose and hurled the dagger at the wall. Itshattered like lost innocence. Crimson light hovered around theshards for a breath or two, then faded.

Rhendish regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Was thattruly necessary?”

“Would you do otherwise, in my position?”

“Perhaps not,” he said. “And if I employ you, you’lltake me into the Fox’s lair?”

“If I can,” she said. “Before we left for StormwallIsland, Delgar shifted the passages beneath the city beyondrecognition. I’m not sure I can find my way back into the passage,much less locate the den.”

The adept rose and began to pace. “So. The dagger isdestroyed and I do not have the thief.”

“What does it matter if you find his lair? Fox isdead. They’re all dead. A dozen witnesses saw the fairy shot out ofthe sky. The explosion destroyed Muldonny’s workroom and collapsedthe escape shaft. If your concern is, as you said, ridding Sevrinof a band of thieves, you have achieved your goal. Define another,and I will help you achieve that as well.”

Rhendish came to a stop beside a curtained alcove.“And what do you want in return?”

She removed Muldonny’s ring from her coin bag and putit on the table. “I want this back. When you remove thegears and metal shafts from my arm, put the crystal back. In timethe crystal will grow together, like human bone.”

A low, sly smile crept over the adept’s face. “Thereis a quicker way.”

He pulled the curtain aside with a flourish.

Hanging in the alcove was an elven skeleton, adelicate marvel of luminous pink crystal.

Rhendish brushed his fingertips over the ribcage as abard might sweep the strings of a harp. Faint music touched theair, like echoes of fairy bells or the memory of childhoodlaughter.

Beneath the eerie sound lay one no human ears couldhear. The sound of magic vibrated through the crystal-a magic asfamiliar to Honor as her own heartbeat. Surely these bones couldbelong to none but her twin-born sister.

“Asteria,” she whispered.

The adept waited until the heartbreaking sound diedaway before speaking.

“No, my dear. Your sister is very much alive.”

That wasn’t possible. “But who. . How. .”

He spread his hands in a gesture of apology. “I’mafraid that some of the details of your history altered somewhat inthe telling. There was a tribunal meeting in your forest grove, andit ended in blood before the traitor was named. That much is true.But that winter night occurred years ago. You have been with meever since.”

Not seasons. Years.

The room tilted and swam as Honor struggled to takethis in. She wanted to deny it, but she could not.

“As you pointed out,” Rhendish said, “the livingcrystal that is elven bone grows. It is amazing to me how swiftlyit grows, and how intelligently. Truly marvelous, what the properapplication of alchemical knowledge and the passage of a few shortyears can accomplish.”