Minok’tan was once a city whose streets were dark at night. That was the natural order of things; when the sun went down, the city slept. The night was for hunters, for predators--not for the good, honest citizens. Now, though, on the Street of Gods, one building lit up the night. Braziers surrounded the building, two on each side, their great brass bowls set atop clay pedestals and filled with fire that danced and roared in defiance of the darkness. This was a temple to Abilar, a monument of Caligari architecture, with thick brick walls and heavy wooden doors and high windows that let in the light while keeping out the heat of the sun. Within this edifice to the patron god of merchants and traders, behind those thick walls and heavy doors, lay vaults and coffers filled with the wealth of the city--and, more specifically, the wealth of the city’s elite.
At the rear of the building, five men in leather jerkins talked and laughed as they tossed dice to pass the hours until dawn, their spears propped haphazardly against the wall or lying in the dirt as they gambled. A sixth man, his greying hair and beard cropped close to his head under a leather cap, stood a little ways off, his eyes scanning the darkness as he leaned on his spear. Occasionally, he would glance back at the others, his eyes narrowing with each glance in a gaze of contempt that bordered on disgust. None of the gamblers seemed to notice.
The grizzled watchman heard the shifting of gravel from his other side, and glanced that way just as another man rounded the corner from the southern wall. Man almost didn’t seem appropriate, the old watchman thought to himself wryly; for all the broadness of his shoulders, the boy’s beard was still patchy in places, and he carried his spear with awkward unfamiliarity. The boy froze for a moment when the older man looked his way, then sighed as he resumed his approach.
"Ho, Niko," the old watchman said, raising an eyebrow as the boy drew near. "You’re supposed to be watching the entrance with the rest. Thought you’d try to sneak up on an old man again?"
"Damn you and your ears, Jacer," Niko snapped, scowling. "I’ve been practicing, just like you said, and I swear I didn’t make a sound! How did you hear me over them?"
Jacer snorted, turning back to scan the darkness again. "You might be getting better, but you’ll never be as good at sneaking about as I am at listening. Next time, remember to feel out your footing before settling your weight."
The younger man sighed, but nodded. He followed Jacer’s gaze to the flickering shadows across the street, and they watched together for a moment in silence. Niko spoke first.
"Do you think he’ll come tonight?"
Jacer shrugged. "He’d be a fool if he did. Even as sloppy as this lot is--" he said, jerking his head towards the circle of lounging guards, "--the rest are still watching the entrance, and nobody’s good enough to sneak past half a dozen men less than five feet from the door. Not even Quicksilver."
"Oh," said Niko, his shoulders sagging slightly. Jacer glanced at him, noted his crestfallen look, and chuckled.
"Stop your moping, boy. Lord Leskaris is paying you triple a stonecutter’s wage to lean on a spear and try not to fall asleep, and we don’t even have to worry about some Angorni archer trying to plant fletchings in our eyes. Besides," he continued, jostling the younger man playfully, "I bet this is the first time you’ve seen real dragons. That’s something, isn’t it?"
Niko shivered slightly at that, glancing around as if he expected to see one of the creatures prowling towards him out of the shadows. "Gods below, don’t remind me. I’ve never seen anything that made me feel so much like meat on a platter."
"That may be," Jacer said, nodding judiciously, "but, you have to admit, there’s a beauty to them. Besides, hunting dragons like these won’t come near you without a word from their handlers. I served with a company of dragon handlers in the war, and I’ve never seen animals so well behaved before or since."
The younger man grunted in response. "It almost seems a shame that we’re just . . . scaring him off. What do you think it would be like, facing down someone like that?"
"Gods above, boy," Jacer said, chuckling again, "he’s not some kind of assassin. He’s a burglar. If you’re facing him down, odds are that he wasn’t much good to begin with. It’s not as though he’s going to walk out of an alley there and--
Something hit the wall behind them with a sharp crack. Almost before he knew what he was doing, Jacer dropped to one knee, snapping the length of his spear tight against his body with the point towards the darkness as he tried to make himself as small a target as possible. Jacer scanned the buildings across the street, cursing the flames now as he tried to pick out a shape from the dancing shadows. Beside him, Niko clumsily followed his lead, dropping to one knee as well, though the men gambling by the entrance merely looked over at them curiously.
“You see something out there, old man,” one of the men asked loudly, “or is this some new trick to get us to join you in standing around with a thumb up our--”
A second projectile zipped out of the darkness, and this time several of the gamblers let out shouts of alarm as it smacked into the clay pedestal of the nearest brazier. As the men scrambled for their spears, Jacer felt the first stirrings of panic in his gut. Beside him, Niko was breathing hard through his nose, but he held his ground.
“I thought you said nobody was going to be shooting at us,” he said, not looking away from the shadows across the street.
“Nobody was,” Jacer growled back. “I signed on to deal with a petty thief, not to sit by a fire without a shield while somebody picks us off. Gods above, I’d better not die to a sling bullet for this job.”
Something moved in the darkness across the street, something solid and real in the midst of the flame-wrought shadows, and Niko jerked in alarm again as the hunting dragons suddenly began to shriek and hiss in excitement. Their cries did nothing to calm Jacer, and he tried to steady his nerves as the three creatures darted along the edge of the firelight towards the building where he’d seen the shape, their bright plumage lit by the dancing flames before they disappeared again.
The men stayed huddled by the braziers for another moment in silence before Jacer felt some of the tension leave his body. He let the tip of his spear sag, and reached over to push Niko’s down as well.
"Easy, boy," he muttered, putting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “It’s all over for him now, poor bastard. Whatever he was trying, he can’t outrun a pack of dragons on the hunt, and I’ve seen what those claws and fangs can do to a man. It’s all over but the dying.”
Even as he said it, a shrill sound split the night, high and terrified, and all the guards around the south-east brazier shuddered as one. Jacer glanced around and realized with irritation that several of the men from the other side of the temple had come to see what was happening, but he shoved his annoyance down. Professionalism didn’t matter now, not at this point. His gut roiled at that thought, and he pushed himself to his feet, suddenly weary. While Niko and the others watched the shadows, he turned back towards the temple--just in time to see the bowl of one of the braziers tipping slowly but inexorably forward.
Even as he let out a shout of alarm, the entire clay pedestal buckled and folded, sending the bowl of flames tumbling to the ground. The night flared briefly with light as the falling embers and burning wood sent a cloud of sparks into the air. The guards nearest the toppled brazier shouted and shoved each other in their haste to get away from the scattered fire, cursing as the flaming debris landed on sandaled feet and clothing. One man’s trouser leg burst into flame, and he yelled and danced as others tried to put it out. Jacer could only stare at the scene, his mind racing.
Something about this was wrong. He glanced around and realized that the entirety of the guard force was now standing in front of the main entrance, some drawn by shrieks of the dragons and the rest by the commotion of the toppled brazier. That shrill cry pierced the night again, and this time, as he listened more carefully, he recognized it for what it was.
"It’s a diversion!" he shouted, hefting his spear and waving the men away frantically. "Back to your posts, all of you! He’s still coming!"
The man whose leg had caught fire shot him a glower. "What are you babbling about, Jac? Are you deaf?" He waved a hand in the direction the dragons had disappeared, and another shrill sound rose from the darkness. This time, it wasn’t just Jacer who noticed that something seemed off. Now that they were listening, it didn’t sound quite like a scream.
In fact, it sounded more like a squeal.
"It’s a pig, you idiots!" shouted Jacer, and he saw shock and realization dawn on the faces around him. "He’s got the dragons distracted, and he knocked the brazier over somehow to get us all over here twiddling our thumbs, and there’s nobody watching the damn door!" By the time he’d finished speaking, the remaining guardsmen were scattering back to their respective corners, nearly stumbling over each other in their haste. Niko hesitated and looked like he might try to stay, but Jacer shot him a glower that sent the younger man scampering back to his post.
Once they were gone, leaving just him and his regular companions, Jacer planted his spear and knelt to examine the fallen pedestal. After a moment’s inspection, he sat back on his heels, his brow furrowed. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected to find--scores in the clay, perhaps, cut beforehand to weaken the pedestal’s integrity?--but the break wasn’t so much a break as it was a fold. It was as if . . . Jacer poked hesitantly at the break with the butt of his spear, and grunted in surprise when the wood sank in further, the clay yielding under the pressure as if it was fresh from the riverbank. He reached out and pulled a piece loose, rolling it into a ball between his fingers.
"Now, how in the name of all the gods did you manage a trick like that?" he murmured softly to himself. He stood, holding the ball of wet clay loosely in one hand, and looked back out at the night. Whoever this Quicksilver was, he wasn’t just a thief--he was a damned sorcerer. The night had gone still again, save for the shrieks and hisses of the dragons as their handlers tried to bring them to heel. It was several minutes now since he’d sent the other back to their posts, and he couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that something should have happened by now. Perhaps, he thought, they had foiled him. The entrance hadn’t been unmanned for more than a minute or two, he was sure. That couldn’t possibly be enough time for this thief to get through a locked and barred door. Could it?
From somewhere behind him—from somewhere inside the temple—Jacer heard a soft but unmistakable thump. It sounded very, very much like a door swinging shut. He glanced at his companions and saw his shock mirrored on their faces. They’d heard it too.
"Jac!"
Jacer whipped around at the sound of his name, and saw Niko waving to him frantically. "Jacer, come on! He’s gotten inside, and he’s got the door blocked up somehow, but he’s got no way out now! We’ve got him trapped!"
Jacer hesitated, looking down at the little ball of clay in his hand. A dozen guards, a well-lit night, a locked door, an unscalable wall, and a trio of hunting dragons hadn’t stopped this thief from getting in--and they hadn’t even seen him. He had no idea how the thief was planning to escape, but Jacer very, very much doubted that they had Quicksilver trapped.
"Let them keep trying the door," he called back, closing his hand around the ball of clay and hefting his spear. "You and I can take a walk around the building--keep an eye out for some kind of trick."
The boy only hesitated a moment before nodding and joining him. As the two men began a slow circuit of the building, Jacer could hear the other guards pounding and hacking at that sturdy front door, and he winced.
“Fools. Leskaris paid us to guard that door, not break it down. He’s not going to be happy when he sees what they’ve done to it.”
Niko opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say was drowned out as a cheer went up. Jacer and Niko finished their circuit of the temple, and Jacer poked his head around the corner to see the entire group of guards pour into the building, no doubt scattering through the hallways in search of the bandit. He hesitated at the corner, eying the open door, then glancing over his shoulder at a nervous-looking Niko and the empty city behind them.
“We’ve come to an interesting point, boy,” he said, sighing as he leaned on his spear. He showed Niko the ball of clay and explained where he’d found it. “I said Quicksilver would have to be a fool to try anything, but I wasn’t counting on him having magic. Whatever trick he’s pulled, I’d bet my spear that he’s got all the rest of the men chasing shadows inside, and he’s likely already gone.”
Niko hesitated, then nodded slowly. “If that’s the case, what do we do about it?”
“We go inside and chase shadows with the rest of them,” Jacer said flatly, and bulled ahead despite Niko’s look of bewilderment. “We’ll look like fools, but only the same kind of fool as everyone else. If we don’t go with the group, they’ll find some way to pin his escape on us. If there’s one thing I learned from my time in the army, it’s that you don’t want to be the odd man out when things go south.”
Without waiting for a response, he hefted his spear and prepared himself to join his witless comrades. He hadn’t gone more than five paces when something crunched under his boot. He cursed in surprise and scrambled back a few paces, glancing down to see shards of clay and stone on the ground next to the wall. Frowning, he glanced up at the wall, and his eyes widened in shock at what he saw. Set into the wall a foot or two above his head were four neat indentations, offset from each other, with a few feet in between each one. A few feet above the final indentation was one of the high-set windows. Jacer watched as Niko reached up and put his hand into the first hole, and he grunted when he saw the boy’s fingers sink slightly into the stone as if it were wet clay.
“What in the Earthfather’s name . . .” Niko’s voice trailed off, and he shook his head as he stepped away from the wall.
“Handholds,” Jacer said, shaking his head. “He somehow managed to scoop handholds out of solid rock while we were all distracted. Gods above and below, we were not prepared for this man.”
As they both stood at the corner of the building, staring up at those indentations, Jacer heard the crunch of gravel, just around the corner, and his breath caught in his throat. He glanced at Niko, whose eyes were wide. He’d heard it, too. Jacer gestured for him to stay put and, moving as silently as possible, he leaned his body sideways to see around the corner.
There, in the dancing firelight, stood a slender figure looking at the open door to the temple with hands on hips. He wasn’t particularly tall, probably a few inches under six feet, and he looked surprisingly ordinary. He wore a plain shirt and plain pants, both a dull brown, with the loose fabric tied tight at his wrists, and boots that came midway up his calf. Two bands of leather criss-crossed his torso in front and in back. His face was hidden by some kind of scarf or cloth wrapped around his face, leaving only his eyes bare. In one hand he held a large pack, no doubt filled with tonight’s plunder.
The figure nodded and turned away, apparently satisfied with his work, then hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder. Jacer shrank back, afraid that Quicksilver had sensed him somehow, but the thief only turned around to look at the open door again, folding his arms and cocking his head as if in thought. After a moment he strode back towards the double doors, reached out, and began to slowly and quietly pull them shut.
Jacer knew he had to make a move. He couldn’t just stand there and watch the nation’s most notorious burglar walk away. He stepped out from behind the corner slowly and carefully. If he could sneak up on Quicksilver, he might be able to apprehend him before--
A rock shifted under his foot, and the thief spun to face him, one hand going to the hilt of a long knife at his hip, the other to one of the leather bands across his chest, which Jacer now saw were hung with small pouches. They both froze, watching each other with less than a dozen paces of ground between them.
Jacer glanced at the thief’s hand on his knife, then at the one resting on the pouch. He thought about the clay pedestal, folded and crumpled on the ground, and the climbing holds gouged out of solid stone. He glanced sideways at Niko, and saw the spear trembling in the boy’s hands. He was terrified.
So was Jacer.
"You know," he said, looking back to the thief and lowering the tip of his spear just slightly. "I imagined you’d wear a hood. And a lot more black."
Quicksilver’s gaze flicked to the lowered spear tip, then back up to meet Jacer’s eyes."I tried that look, in the beginning," he said at last, his voice surprisingly mellow and pleasant, and he took his hand off the knife. "I could hardly see past the hood, and the brown blends with the buildings better than the black."
Jacer snorted, his gnarled features tugging up into a small grin, and planted the butt of his spear. "Fair enough." He jutted his chin at the double doors. "You’ll have a tough time locking them in. They’ll have broken the lock and bar, both, smashing down that door."
Now it was Quicksilver’s turn to snort, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in an unmistakable grin. "I didn’t need a key to get in. What makes you think I need a lock to keep them from getting out?"
As if to prove his point, the doors rattled as someone tried to push them open, and Jacer heard muffled voices shouting from the other side. He looked at the door, then back to the burglar, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the satisfied smirk in the other man’s eyes.
"If I let you walk away," he said, scratching idly at the greying stubble on his chin, "they’ll think I helped you."
"In that case," said Quicksilver, "this would be the perfect time to leave."
Jacer considered that for a moment, then gave a grudging nod. He laid the haft of his spear across his shoulder and turned away, jerking his head to indicate to Niko to follow. He did, and the two men left their comrades shouting and pounding uselessly against the magically locked doors, and walked away into the darkness of Minok’tan.