Anthology: Thieves World: Turning Points

"What was that?" gasped the barrel-maker.

"A collection of syllables," said Heliz. "It pulls the energy out of wood and stone without burning, leaving only the ash behind. It's one of her favorites."

"She's a sorceress!" muttered Lumm.

"Worse," said Heliz, clutching his bag of books. "She's a thesaurus."

The clouds of settling ash thundered behind them. "Heliz!" shouted a female voice from the ashen cloud. "Show yourself! I won't harm you!"

"How do we fight her?" asked Lumm.

"With our feet. Put distance between us and her. What's the best way out of town?"

Lumm thought a moment. "This way. There are some abandoned manors north of the city. You could hole up there until she moves on. Follow."

The two darted down the alleyway behind the house. Above, the pregnant clouds were just starting to spit a hot drizzle, and the sky rumbled like a dyspeptic deity.

At the end of the alley, the pair dodged out on the street. The rough, dirt-packed road was blocked to the south by a surging billow of ghostly dust.

A huge shadow loomed up in the dust, resolving into a great, animated statue. It was in the form of a great ape walking on all fours, its stone knuckles leaving deep imprints in the muddy road. Its maw burned with a fiery, greenish light that shone like a beacon. Riding on its shoulders was a raven-haired young woman in crimson robes.

"Heliz!" she shouted, and it seemed she could outshout the thunder itself. "Surrender now! You don't want to make this worse than it is!"

By common, unspoken consent, both men turned and fled down the road. The warm rain began in earnest now, and felt like tears on Heliz's face. Somewhere else there was a shout, and a slamming of shutters behind them.

They passed two alleys and dodged down the third. Heliz was already breathing hard, and his chest was tight and his arms tired from carrying the satchel. He plastered himself again a wall.

"Change in plans," he huffed. "Let's go to the heart of the city. Maybe go to the Maze. The docks. Hells, head for the Unicorn. There'll be more people there. Someone who can handle her."

Lumm the staver shook his head. "No. We bring sorcery to the heart of the city, and there will be a mob all right, but they'll be after our heads as well. Don't you know any spells to stop her?"

"They are NOT spells," Heliz Yunz said testily, "they are words. Words the gods used when they built the world."

"What about the big word, the one that blew up her tower?" asked Lumm.

"That noun destroyed an area about a half-mile in radius," said Heliz. "Would you wish that on Sanctuary?"

The staver did not get a chance to respond, for they were transfixed in a beacon of greenish light issuing from their pursuer's maw. Perched behind the stone ape's head, Jennicandra laughed.

Lumm cursed, invoking several Ilsig gods.

The malediction made a connection in Heliz's mind, reminding him of another string of words. He pressed his hands against the hard-packed dirt of the roadway and spoke a scattering of syllables.

It was the earth-softening phrase, the one that would help speed the plow at planting time. Here, in the increasing rain, it had a greater affect.

The rock-ape lumbered towards them, but its knuckles sank deeper into the road than before. It lurched forwards, off-balance, and almost threw Jennicandra from her seat. Now the softening had spread down the alley, and its hindquarters were sinking as well, mired in the newly softened earth. It raised one hand, pulling up tarry strands of dirt and debris with it. The creature bellowed, and its flaming cry was met by thunder.

Lumm grabbed the satchel of books and shouted at Heliz, "Manors! Now!" And he was gone, not looking back.

Heliz looked back at the trapped rock-ape. There was no sign of Jennicandra, and now the rain was heavy and black, worsening its situation. He started off after the staver.

The rain was small hot spears now, spattering the road and driving even the hardiest natives to shelter. The pair stopped talking, taking refuge in the low overhangs and doorways, working their way north and east towards the manors. The closed shops and shuttered houses began to finally give way to open, empty lots and rubbled buildings, and finally to the rolling slopes of the manors themselves.

The worst of the rain had abated now, and had settled into a sullen, pounding patter. Both men were drenched to the skin and breathless. They dodged into the nearest of the old manors, a rotted manse than had only seen thieves and other fugitives as its tenants for over a decade.

They sat in the darkness for a while, the only sound the pounding of the rain on the upper floor. The roof of this manor had disappeared some time earlier.

"What now?" said Lumm.

"I can't stay," said Heliz. "She found me here. She wants vengeance. I can head across the Shadowfoam, work my way north again to the Ilsig capitol. Maybe lose her there." There was a pause, and Heliz added, "Sorry to be such a poor tenant."

"I'm going back," said Lumm, rising to his feet. "See what the damages are. Salvage what I can. I'll get you some food and water, if you can wait until morning."

Heliz nodded, and Lumm's shadowy form moved towards the door.

"Lumm?" said Heliz. The older man stopped in the doorway.

Whatever Heliz was going to say was disrupted by a blast of greenish light. It struck Lumm like a hammer, knocking him from his feet. Lumm bellowed, covering his eyes as he fell.

"Heliz!" came Jennicandra's voice from outside. "Show yourself."

Heliz pulled himself to his feet. Cursing himself. Cursing his great-grandmother. Cursing Lumm and the gods and words and Sanctuary itself.

He moved into the doorway.

Outside, the rain had stopped, but only in the immediate vicinity. It formed a curtain around the manor's front drive. Standing before the main doors was the red-clad form of Jennicandra, Mistress of the Crimson Scholars. Behind her loomed the green-mawed ape made of hewn rock.

"Heliz," said Jennicandra, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.

"Great-grandmother," said Heliz, his throat tightening.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, child," she said reproachfully.

Her mannerisms were careful now, those of an old person. She looked like a child playacting.

"I'm sorry," said Heliz, feeling his knees tremble and threaten to go out. "I didn't mean to destroy the tower. I didn't know the word was that dangerous. Don't kill me."

The smile blossomed fully on the young/old woman's lips. "Kill you? Hardly. Not while you have that useful word in your mind."

"But the tower?"

Jennicandra laughed harshly. "What of the tower? Fifty scribes. A word that powerful is worth five hundred. I've been looking for words like that. Original words. Words of Destruction and Creation. Show me the word you learned, child. I'll be happy to leave you in this hole of a town if you just show me the word."

She said something else, something that Heliz heard and then forgot immediately. Something that slid off his brain, leaving a muzzy residue behind. He wanted to speak, but his throat tightened at fear of his great-grandmother. He shook his head, more in confusion than in negation.

"Come now, child," said Jennicandra. "You wrote it down, didn't you? Of course, you're a good scholar. I taught you to be one. So you would find the right words for me. Now I want you to show me your devotion to your Great-grann-nanna. Show me what you did, child. Show me the word."

Again she added something else, the extra syllable that strained at the gates of Heliz's mind. Heliz made a gasping whisper. "I'm sorry," he managed. Despite himself, he clutched at the notebook resting over his thundering heart.

Jennicandra took another step forward. "You disappoint. All those deaths are meaningless, child, unless I get the word. Unless I get the power. It's your purpose in life. It's in your notebook, isn't it? I can take it off your body. Don't fight me, child. Your blood comes from me. You owe it to me. Give it to me. Give me the word."