Book 2 Chapter 12 (Patreon)

[Two-chapter interlude while Nox travels back to university]

"Please," Aria whined, poking Joey's calf with a sharp toenail. "Teach me a cantrip."

"What did I say about talking?" Joey kept his volume low and eyes focused on the Smythe mansion.

"You won't pay me if I talk."

"And?"

"You'll find someone else for future jobs and will find a new apprentice candimdate."

"Candidate. Just because I muddle my words for the rubes doesn't mean you should, too. It suits me. Not you."

"But this is boring, and you’ll never find as good as me," Aria whispered. "I wouldn't have taken the job if I knew we were just going to sit and watch a stupid palace." She waved at the sky. "The weather is on our side. No one can hear us."

A storm raged above Ygg's canopy. Miniature waterfalls cascaded from her giant leaves, roaring as they struck the stone buildings and streets below. Frequent thunder only added to the noise. It was the perfect night for breaking into a vault.

"Shush. We both know that's not true. You watch the patrols. I'll scan for an entry point. If you do your job right, you should see some magic tonight.

"Fine. I hope your boss pays as much as she promised. I think she's a liar like Ani."

Joey never met his employer. The broker, Ani, only told him she was university staff and gave him a list of items she wanted from the Smythe mansion. There were a handful of must-have objects and three times as many the woman wanted out of curiosity. The list included ledgers, employment records, family trees, paintings, bric-a-brac, and artifacts. He’d receive payments for each item procured. Some had greater gold values than others. At first, Joey believed the job’s eight-week deadline was overkill. Now, he knew better.

Of the five must-haves, Joey had already liberated three. He dug the Smythe-family-tree records out of the trash next to the Imperium Inquisition’s temporary office in the city. Joey found a lot of the mundane ledgers and other paperwork his employer desired, too. He had flipped through some of the tomes but found nothing of interest. Their importance was beyond Joey’s understanding, and his employer’s objectives mattered little.

The second must-have was far more challenging to procure. The city had confiscated several research documents about dungeons, dungeon lords, and methods of empowering them. Joey’s employer wanted everything dedicated to an entity called the All-Father. The tome had no external identifiers, and the broker had no information regarding it. Joey only knew to look for specific images: one-eyed old men, ravens, men hanging from trees, and several more innocuous sketches.

It took three weeks to track down the locations where the city officials had stored the books. Joey had to investigate all four and study dozens of tomes, parchments, and journals to fulfill his employer’s requirements. The job involved investing in Cat’s Eye Concoctions, sneaking around guards, disarming wards, and avoiding traps. He almost got caught a couple of times and chased across rooftops once.  Fortunately, his size and mask made him look no different from the city’s urchins.

Joey’s contact in the city guard claimed they were looking for ordinary cat burglars. Since he had grabbed an assortment of random tomes and bric-a-brac, too, no one suspected a thief of explicitly targeting the fallen Smythe house’s effects.

After a fortnight of searching, he found everything with the relevant markers. Some used runic languages, and Joey could barely read the local text. So, he took everything he believed his employer could want. In the meantime, he also stole half of the second list and stashed it all in the designated locations.

The remaining must-haves were all artifacts. Objects of power typically had several layers of defense, making them challenging to steal. He got lucky with the third object on the list.

All good independent thieves kept day jobs. Local guards and gangs suspected the unemployed and kept close eyes on them. Joey initially struggled to find lucrative work as someone new to the city with a loose grip on the language. Day laborer turned out the best possible job for a cat burglar. It put him right at the bottom of the proverbial working class, ensuring no one paid him any attention. Employers didn’t use contracts. Instead, they would visit the taverns and cafeterias where laborers dined and yelled out their requirements. All willing candidates would gather and get picked out of a line.

Good hygiene and clean clothes proved sufficient for getting picked. It was hard work, but the job let Joey investigate his marks, get a rough idea of the floor plan and security, and gather all the needed information. Speaking in broken ‘common’ and pretending to be hard of hearing ensured everyone thought him stupid, making him even less of a suspect.

The city and inquisition guard hired day laborers to clear out the Smythe mansion, find hidden store rooms, and relocate several assets. Five copper a day made the job tempting, but only a few volunteered. Only the stupid and uninformed dared to tangle in the drama involving the nobility. The desperate joined them, too. Turmoil to the north had brought thousands of refugees to the city. They mostly took the jobs nobody wanted, but Joey predicted work and resources would soon become scarce.

The first few days on the job involved moving antique furniture, tapestries, and sculptures to auction house transports. Joey found the third item on the must-have list while loading articles onto a cart. It was an ornate eye patch. Joey had not long started his journey as an aether practitioner before circumstances displaced him from his home. He only knew a ritual spell and three cantrips but could still feel the power radiating from the artifact. Joey had no means of identifying the object’s abilities, but it was still tempting to steal it for himself. A good artifiact could change his life. It could make thievery easier or give him enough power to find a new career.

Joey resisted. His employer wasn’t just a university professor; given how much money he was due to make, she had deep pockets, too. Winning such an individual’s favor could potentially change his life, too.

A little under two weeks remained until the deadline, and Joey still had two must-have items to steal. He had located one and was sure the second lay in the same location. Unfortunately, an inquisitor always supervised the laborers while they worked in the Smythe vault and followed them to the transport, too. Apparently, pushback from a branch family kept them from emptying the room straight away. Multiple parties had their eyes on the artifacts, and stealing them would be a challenging feat.

"There." Aria pointed at a balcony used by the guards patrolling the halls. A pair of armed and armored individuals traversed it every hour before disappearing into the building. "It's the second time they forgot to lock the door behind them. The latch is broken, or they're lazy."

Despite her love of chattering at inappropriate times, Aria had the best eyes of all petty thieves Joey knew. They sat on a roof twenty feet from the Smythe mansion, yet she noticed details like guards forgetting to lock doors. It was the only reason he put up with her—besides wanting to keep the other lads from attacking her for being a pretty girl with no family or connections.

"Doesn't look like I have many other options," Joey said. "Can you run a line, or should I free climb?"

"I see a good spot," Aria replied. She rose with her bow nocked. Her arrow arced over the mana lamps on the street below. Its head exploded on contacting the balcony's bannister. Foam expanded between the gourd-shaped stone balusters, trapping the arrow and deep-spider silk rope. The rope and foam solution had come from a cache left for Joey by his employer.

After binding the rope on their end, the pair rode along it using ropes. A second concoction dissolved the foam. Aria stowed the broken arrow in her quiver, and they let the rope fall to the street below, hoping it would blend into the darkness.

The pair hung from the railing in silence for a couple of minutes, ensuring they had drawn no attention. Joey's pocket watch claimed they had fifty minutes until the guards crossed the balcony again. Once sure the coast was clear, they snuck through the attached doors, entering the mansion's west wing.

The building's main body housed the vault. The floor containing it had the densest guard presence. Entering it was not an option. Joey had a better idea.

The laborers had already emptied the mansion's west wing. It was the reason why patrols only visited once an hour. They prioritized the areas still containing valuables. So, Joey hoped to infiltrate the vault through the walls there. He had already marked the location, inspected the wards, and all possible obstacles.

Joey didn't know how to read arcane texts or symbols. However, he had little trouble comparing them and noting patterns. The authorities had already turned off three of the patterns he recognized while brute forcing their way into the vault. Walking on the floor, damaging the walls, and making noise would no longer trigger the alarms and defenses. However, using any magic beyond cantrips would wake up half the city. Since Joey only knew three cantrips, the wards didn't worry him.

It took five minutes to find the planned breach point. While carrying out a heavy armoire, Joey had stumbled, leaving a small scratch on the stone. The spot was along the guards' patrol route. So, they needed to act swiftly.

“Watch closely,” Joey whispered. He fished a small bottle and paintbrush out of his satchel. He dipped the two-inch-wide brush in the clear solution before painting a square at the base of the wall. It was two feet wide and just as tall.

“You’re going to use magic!” Aria bounced giddily, her volume much too high for Joey’s comfort. Fortunately, thunder drowned her outburst.

There was a time when Joey once dreamt of becoming a mage. Unfortunately, small towns near the continent’s southern edge only had a few mages. Most of the aether practitioners he encountered were delvers and material hunters passing through the settlement on their way to Sundarshahar. Once in a blue moon, a couple of them would spare time for a young goat herd. Joey used to carry their packs and show them around town, hoping to win their favor. He picked up magic and other skills from the sympathetic over numerous visits.

It took a handful of seconds to picture the drawings and runes clearly. Joey drew on the cloud of mana spinning inside of him and fed the spellform while pressing his fingers against the damp square. He felt his energy levels significantly drop. The temperature around his hand also dipped.

“By the gods!” Aria whispered, bouncing as frost spread from Joey’s fingers. It spread to the square’s edges before stopping.

Next, Joey pictured the second spellform he had memorized. It shared similar similarities with Cold Snap, using identical but inversed shapes and runes. The temperature around Joey’s hand rose rapidly, and the frost immediately turned into steam. The stone audibly cracked under his touch.

“Wait for the thunder,” Joey told Aria, handing her a hammer. Whenever it boomed, they struck the cracked square with all of their might. It took the pair twenty minutes to infiltrate the Smythe mansion vault, leaving little more than ten minutes to find their target.

“What are we looking for?” Aria whispered once they entered the giant room. She used a brush to sweep stone fragments out of the hallway and into the vault. There was a chance the guards would miss the hole in the darkness. The longer the infiltration went unnoticed, the better it would be for them.

Scratches, slashes, and scorch marks marked the walls where the destroyed ward runes used to be. Several cases and pedestals lined the room. Half of them had nothing on them. The city and inquisition had claimed most and used the proceeds to compensate the individuals the Smythes had wrongfully imprisoned. Only the contested items remained.

“The Embers of Creation,” Joey answered, making a beeline for their objective.

The embers sat in an egg-shaped lantern near the center of the room. Their light constantly shifted through countless hues and shades, never remaining on one color for more than a couple of heartbeats. A colorful glass spearhead, attached to a thick broken shaft, sat to the left of it, and a blue turban sat on the right. Joey had seen the garment mostly on traders and delvers from the desert wastelands to the east.

“That’s pretty,” Aria commented, her eyes wide.

Joey grabbed a dagger, a flute, and a couple of other beautiful artifacts from a nearby shelf and stuffed them into Aria’s satchel. “Wait for me by the temple,” he told her. “I’ll follow you in a bit.”

“What? Why are we splitting up? I thought we’re never supposed to split up.”

“I need to break a ward,” Joey replied. He unfolded a giant piece of parchment from the cache. Magic circles and runes covered it. His employer had left five such ward-breaking scrolls in the cache, along with instructions on how to activate them. “It might be loud and dangerous. I don’t want to have to watch your back while running.”

“But—”

“I’ll give you an artifact if you listen. We’ll both keep one and be master thieves together. Alright?”

“You promise?” Aria looked up at Joey with big puppy eyes. Even though she was around twelve years old, she still had the ability to execute the manipulative ploy excellently.

“I promise. Now go.”

Much to Joey’s relief, she obeyed. Once Aria had left the room, he lay the parchment on the ground in front of the display case, placed mana gems on the indicated spots, and fed it a mote of mana. The luminous runes on the stone table sizzled and dimmed. His hands darted forward. He grabbed all three objects and swept them into his bag before jumping back. The runes regained their luminosity before he could retreat, and an invisible barrier manifested, severing Joey’s left pinky finger just above the first knuckle.

A stifled scream escaped Joey, and he stuffed his sleeve in his mouth before the rest of the cry could escape him.

Even though the inquisitors and city officials called it a vault, the room looked more like a gallery. The Smythes likely used it to show off their belongings to visitors. It explained why they only had wards for protection and no reinforced walls. Joey guessed the Smythes were overconfident in their guards’ and protective magic’s capabilities. The door into the vault wasn’t particularly thick, but it had metal bars on hinges on either side. He heard the exterior barricade swing open and panicked voices. Someone had heard him.

Joey rushed to the square hole but skidded to a stop on hearing footsteps on the other side. A dimly lit face looked at him through it. Then, a crossbow bolt whizzed through the opening and struck him in the left shoulder. Nothing muted the scream that burst from his lips.

More projectiles followed, and Joey could do nothing but duck and dive behind cover. The vault’s doors swung open.

“Step out with your hands up,” a gruff voice said. “Surrender, and we won’t have to kill you.”

Joey complied, finding three shadowed figures at the room’s entrance. He raised his hands and backpedaled, his mind racing through everything he had on his person. Nothing he had was enough to combat armed aether practitioners. He also felt lightheaded because of the blood pouring from his left hand and shoulder.

Much to his surprise, the en didn’t move, and no more crossbow bolts shot toward him. It took Joey a moment to realize that the world had frozen and all colors had dulled. A disembodied voice then whispered in his ear.

“Would you like a hand?”