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noendgame2 · 6 years ago

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LAD 19

The pounding on the door was relentless. Keesa tried to ignore it as she drifted in and out of sleep. The banging continued. With a groan, she threw off the blanket and rubbed her eyes. She sensed no immediate danger, but felt like the Pit itself. The young girl idly wondered why Hawk had not returned yet with food. There was nothing left to eat in the Hole to eat but some snorkling fat and stale knotted bread. She knew the pounding was not Hawk because none of the family used the front door. Wrapped in the warm blanket, her small and graceful form floated into the larger living room and across to the door. Her feet were bare and frozen; it was always cold in the abandoned cellar she called home. Yellowish hands unstopped a cork in the door, and almond shaped eyes peered out of a peephole through the thick, reinforced ironwood. It was Frack’s drinking buddy, Falden, in the stairway. Relieved, she pulled the blanket tighter around her body and unbolted the door. Falden pushed it open for her. “Yo Fal,” she said, looking up at him with bleary eyes. Falden stared at her pale face for a second before saying, “Pardon Kee, I know you’re feelin’ poorly but young Hawk has got hisself arrested.” “Again?” Keesa groaned. “I’ll go get him out.” “No honey, you don’t understand. He was hauled off by a whole squad of Royal goons! Left the whole Marketplace in a real mess, he did. People are still talking about the chase!” Keesa’s eyes went from half shut to wide open.. Falden looked at her with great concern. She knew she was a mess. “No Frack?” he asked gently. She shook her head. Falden continued, “No one seems to know nutin! Something big seems to be going on, but everyone in charge is tighter than a corset on a fardinger about it. One thing for sure, somehow Hawk’s caught up in it, sure as my lucky tooth! Keesa started breathing hard. Her left arm reached out from under the blanket and landed on Falden’s. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll go take care of it right away.” Falden looked down at her hand. “I think you still got a real touch of fever, deary.” She pulled her hand back into the blanket. “I knew you ought to know Kee. Are you sure you’re all right? You look like a ghost,” Falden observed. “I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s okay Fal, I’ve just got a touch of the flu.” “Do you want me to go with you Kee? I can walk you as far as the Inn, but you know the rest.” “No. Thank you, Fal, I’m sure it’s nothing.” She smiled to reassure him. He bent down and kissed her on the top of her head. She kissed him back on the cheek. Together they pushed/pulled the thick barricade back into place. Keesa went over to a large round crepelwood table in the middle of the room and plopped down in a chair. She looked longingly at the stove. She shook her head at the irony of her being cold. Well, she would be warm enough once she got outside, and she could pick up some fruit along the way. Frack! She needed Frack so badly right now. No one was better at getting out of trouble than her mentor. He was out hunting down more books on Magic for her. She had begged him to stop, but the incidents continued to happen, so he kept going out, and now he had been gone forever. What if something has happened! What if it’s my fault? She idly put out a smoldering breadcrumb on the table. Bother! When will this stop? Enumerable burn marks covered the table, as well as the rest of the Hole, as they called their home. Keesa did not have the flu, but rather a bad case of the Gift. Somehow, her reckless brother was up to his ears in trouble again, more than usual, that was. Of course, it was up to his little stepsister to go get him out. The fool, why now, when it was so dangerous for her to leave the Hole? What an idiot! He was just like their father. Where had Hawk come up with that missing book he claimed Frack had left him and he had forgotten about? There was no telling what he had done to get it. “Enough!” she cried. Keesa strode back into her room. She had been stuck in this stinking basement for months! The blanket went flying towards the bed. She grabbed a small black robe and pulled it over her head, securing it with a pale green rope. A pair of petitel, soft brown boots with low heels completed the ensemble. The young girl ducked under a table wedged against the back wall of her room. Crawling past a black and blue-checkered tablecloth, she emerged into a long room hidden behind the rest of the basement. With practiced care, she felt her way to another table in the center of the room and grabbed a candle. A small flame appeared above her right index finger. It smiled up at here. She smiled back. Soon the large candle illuminated the secret chamber. It was about ten spans across with a roof barely higher than herself. On the old, round, sternwood table sat myriad small iron pots, scrolls, cloth and leather bags full of roots, herbs, stones, common and semi-precious jewels, wooden sticks, candles, and pieces of metal. Small wooden boxes and colorful glass vials rested on shelves covering the back wall. A tiny iron stove with an iron cowling leading up through the ceiling had aa iron pot and copper teakettle on it. There seemed to be no sense to it all, but she knew Hawk was constantly back here fooling around with everything while she slept. A worn, brown money belt appeared from the behind a bookcase and she hiked up her robe to tie it around her waist. It was heavy and chaffed her hips. The Fire Mage made sure she could reach the belt through slits in her robe that looked like pockets. Next, she secured a small scabbard and dagger inside her right boot. Keesa pulled the blade out briefly to inspect it, put it back in place, and then lowered the robe. Next, she went to one of the shelves, amassing several small sacks into one larger one, which she tied to her belt. Finally, she pulled the black cowl over her even darker hair, and crawled out of her lair. Keesa left her meager home wishing she had time to take a bath. Slipping between the reclused boards on the wall of the overhead building, she started towards the Market Inn.

The Market Inn was a thriving business fed by the continual runoff of minor incidents continuously erupting within the Marketplace. Like the Marketplace itself, the Inn had grown up in a hurry and was not very well constructed. Its crumbling walls just barely managed to hold up its end of Tovinaar’s rather loose judicial system. It held two types of prisoners. One group had no real idea of Tovinaarian law and spent a short time in the pokey to prove to them the locals were serious about the pursuit of peaceful enterprise. They were usually allowed to leave after a good scolding along with a moderate court fee. These prisoners generally consisted of merchants, farmers, or sailors from the four corners of Toren celebrating a good day at the Marketplace, usually too hung over to voice many complaints until they were well on their way out of town. This inconvenience made up for itself by providing colorful stories to regale the locals with back home, after the wives had gone to bed and the small clay jugs had come out. The other group’s constituents were an oddball assortment of local troublemakers kept in line by an occasional overnight stay in the jail. Except for the odd violent assault, in which case justice was bloody, brief, but not particularly fatal; the stay usually represented a tithing system to allow the various underclasses of Tovinaar to pay their fair share of taxes to the general community. Hawk sat on the end of a wooden bench as far away from the buckets of human necessity as he could get. It was a large room with dirt floors and brown brick walls. The whole left side of Hawk’s face was blue and purple; his head throbbed, his neck ached, and waking up in jail always left him in a bad mood. There were four small barred windows on the south side of the cage allowing spring sunshine to glare in on the three dozen guests, who were standing, sitting on benches, or lying on straw mats. To the north, a series of long steel bars divided his side of the room from the more innocent visitors of the Market Inn. Hawk looked out of place in the cell, being far younger than its other inhabitants. There was no real profit in rounding up orphans. The man beside him was a red-eyed farmer barely able to sit up. After a time, Hawk heard his name called out. He looked up to see a small, black-cloaked figure pressed against the bars by the crowd on the other side. Half a dozen conversations were going on between the inhabitants of the cell and concerned parties from the outside. Hawk worked his way up to the bars and pressed himself against the girl on the other side. “Kee,” he said softly, “You should not have come.” Keesa looked at his face. “Someone will pay,” she vowed. “Good luck with that,” he whispered back. She gave him a puzzled look. “Never mind,” he suggested. Hawk tried to smile, which made the whole left side of his face hurt. “Kee,” he said with a look of concern, “something’s up. I want you to go back to the Hole. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” “Hawk, I’m worried. No one seems to know anything. Even Jop isn’t talking.” The look she gave him needed no words. She would never leave him alone as long as he was in trouble. They hugged again. He came into the possession of several items, some of which would have caused the local constabulary sincere concern. Hawk was now quite capable of performing several minor miracles in the event of trouble. Keesa slowly drifted away from the cell. Hawk turned away from the bars. He sat, silently debated the various aspects of robbing his roommates to pass the time, while chewing on scooper seeds. Around midday a rotund man called out Hawk’s name. The obese man was completely bald, and his large proboscis showed the crimson signs of too many years of hard drinking. Jop the Keeper had come for him at last. Hawk walked over to the open door of the cage as Jop stood blocking the other side, preventing any sudden rush for freedom from its inhabitants. Two younger men flanked The Keeper, who was dangling a set of keys in his left hand. “Ho Jop.” “Com’n lad. Let’s not keep himself waiting,” the Keeper admonished. The scene in front of the cell was a zoo. On the left was a wood paneled passageway devoid of humanity. Several seedy looking guards stood between the hallway and the crowd. Jop scratched his back with the keys, put his arm on the boy’s shoulder, and he walked him down the hallway. The old, tin armor around his belly resembled a teakettle. “Kee looks terrible, Hawk,” he said. “She’s got the flu Jop, and she’s worried about Frack.” “How long’s he been gone this time?” “Over two months. Kee’s worried sick.” “I noticed it’s been awfully quiet around here,” Jop jested. He gripped Hawk a little tighter. “He’ll come back. He’s way too tough to die, you know that. Probably holed up in some brothel in Wexlo, waiting for the heat from something to die down.” Jop looked down at Hawk. “Look at you, all grow’d up. What'cha say we make the rounds sometime? Just you and me.” Neither had mentioned the latest incidents, which had led to this stroll. “Sure thing Jop. Listen, what’s up? Have you heard anything?” The Keeper frowned, his big red nose crinkling. He followed Hawk up a narrow staircase leading to the courtroom. “Hawk, you haven’t done something really stupid have you?” “Why, of course not Jop. Why? What have you heard?” They reached the top of the stairs. “You watch yourself in there today, lad.” Jop took on an official air as he led the defendant into the courtroom. Sunlight poured in from big round windows ahead of Hawk and reflected off the shiny wood flooring. To his right loomed a big dark bench with an old man in orange robes sitting behind it. To his left stood another set of bars, beyond which a series of raised benches held a crowd of raucous spectators. Several of them were eating lunch. A couple of young girls waved at Hawk when he looked out over the crowd. Hawk spotted Keesa sitting in the back row. Then he froze as his eyes met those within a brown cowl. There, at the back of the gallery, lost in the shadows, stood a huge brown-robed figure holding a large wooden staff. Beside him was a stunning blonde beauty in the robes of a Priestess. This is bad the fledgling career criminal told himself. Hammering caught his attention. He turned to see the judge banging an old rythmwood ball on the table. The crowd quieted to conversational levels. Hawk recognized the old man as Judge Graimer. His beady little eyes peered blindly out of a wrinkly face set in a perpetual grimace. Hawk had been before him a dozen times in the last seven years. It had always been a fine and his never let me see you again speech. This could work greatly in Hawk’s favor. The senile old man had never once seemed to recognize him during his prevails trials. The orange robed hand set the ball back into its silver holder. “Quiet!” he shouted. The crowd turned it down another notch as the trial began. “What do we have here?” demanded the judge. When a guard opened a gate, Hawk was fully expecting the Priestess and her boulder-sized companion to come into the trial room. Instead, a tall thin merchant, dressed in all the finery Tovinaar had to offer, left the area reserved for nobility and stepped through to stand beside Hawk. The judge squinted at a piece of parchment on his desk for several minutes. Then he looked out myopically at the attendees and asked, “Guildsman Salteran, what brings you to my chambers this fine day?” Salteran, a silver-haired gentleman wearing a gold suit trimmed in silver ruffles, looked at the young boy beside him with a pained expression on his face. Leaning on an ornately polished silver and chicksaw cane, he lifted a purple, perfumed handkerchief from his side pocket to his nose. ‘This little guttersnipe,” he began, then pausing, “This little barbarian assaulted me with a club and stole twenty platinums and two silvers from my very purse yesterday afternoon!” The innocent expression on Hawk’s face turned to one of complete bafflement. He had never even seen the Guildsman or that much money in his life. Twenty platinums! He could live like a prince for a year on such a sum! Why would a man have that kind of money on hand anyway, to buy Tovinaar itself? Hawk had been ready to defend a number of charges, but this was an insult to his intelligence. This was lunacy! No judge in the world would buy this story. He looked up at the man in real confusion. What was this all about? Why would some noble want to frame him? The man was unfamiliar to him, but that did not necessarily mean anything, given the larcenous nature of his young life. Hawk simply knew he had never swindled such a ridiculous some of money before. Hawk turned to the bench to plead his case. “Your most exalted one! I am the poor son of farmers. I got lost in the crowd yesterday chasing after my snorkling, Whamlet. I myself was assaulted by robbers and left for dead. When I woke up, I found myself in your jail. Please kind Sir, I only want to find my snorkling and go home. Without the money I was supposed to bring home, how will my seven sisters feed themselves? Please, you must help me find Whamlet. Mummy will be so worried!” Tears rolled down Hawk’s cheeks as he recited his favorite story. He became wobbly at the knees and sank to the ground, sobbing, and asked “Please kind Sir, won’t you help me get home?” The judge squinted at the merchant. “Are you quite certain this was the boy?” The merchant looked down his nose at the pitiful heap beside him. There were many in the gallery who recognized Hawk, but the judge and the Guildsman were men of noble birth. To say something before the judge would have broken the invariable code of silence that existed among the peasantry. A couple of the onlookers smiled at the performance, but gave no hint as to why. The merchant spoke, saying, “How can one possibly differentiate one beggar from the next? Sharpes, my man, was there. We shall inquire of him. Oh Sharpes, my dear fellow!” The judge looked up at the crowd. In front of the gate was a smaller man dressed in blue silk trousers and waistcoat sporting a large white hat with a long blue lankywhillet feather sticking out of it. One of the guards opened the gate and he stepped forward. “Stand up boy,” the judge ordered. Slowly Hawk rose to his feet. He looked pitifully at the judge. “Can I go home now?” he asked in a broken voice. ‘Turn around!” the judge ordered. Hawk slowly turned around, head held low. The man in blue looked him over for several moments. “That’s him,” he said at last. “That’s the one who viscously assaulted us. Mangford suffered a broken collarbone!” Hawk’ head jerked up. “The one that what? What is he saying?” he asked. “Mummy, Daddy, where are you?” he shouted. He looked at the judge. “Please…” he started. “SILENCE!” The judged grabbed the ball and pounded it against the table. He squinted at the young thief. “Herok, isn’t it? You’re one of those young beggars that have terrorized the honest people of this fine town for years. I have turned my eye on your activities a number of times and stayed the hand of justice because of your age. Well, let me be the first to congratulate you on your newfound manhood. You are found guilty of assault and high robbery. Are you ready to make restitution?” Twenty platinums! Hawk could not raise such a sum even if he sold everyone in the room into slavery. The young man sadly shook his head. “In light of the amount of money you have stolen using such vicious means, as well as the numerous times you have disgraced my courtroom, I see no reason for leniency of any sort. You and your kind must be taught a lesson once and for all. Your days of preying on the noble men and women of this city are at an end! I hereby order that you be taken from this room to The Block, where your left hand will be severed from your body, and from whence you are to be imprisoned in the Stone Pits for the rest of your life. When you look at your stump in the years to come while working in the stone mines to repay your debts to society; may it act as a constant reminder of your crimes. Guards, remove the prisoner!” The crowd grew very quiet. No one had lost a hand for thievery in decades. Hawk, stood motionless; not quite believing that what he heard was real. The crowd began to scream threats at the judge, who was pounding as hard as he could on his desk for order. Two more guards walked over to the bars pointing spears at the crowd. The crowd began to quiet down. The nobles could only go so far, but none of the commoners were prepared to confront the local guards one-on-one. In the confusion, no one noticed as the giant and his blue robed companion exiting through one of the back doors. They in turn did not notice the small figure dressed in black close behind them. Hawk began to struggle, but it was too late. “Hey, I really am innocent!” he protested. Two guards held him while three more surrounded the young reprobate. Hawk had passed up several chances to escape before the trial in hopes of getting off easy. Now the judgment ran through his mind over and over, making less sense each time he thought about it. This had to be the lowest point of his young life. He slipped on the floor as the guards dragged him along. Hawk turned to the one on the right and asked, “Could you lend me a hand?” They pulled him roughly to his feet. Jop silently joined the sober ensemble Jop had tears in his eyes. He turned around and for a moment, and Hawk was sure the Keeper was going to attack the guards himself. The Keeper finally broke up into sobs. They all stopped as the rotund man wiped the streaming tears from his face. A fourth man dressed in a blue cloth shirt and pants approached them from the other way. The guards stopped. The newcomer walked up to the Keeper and whispered something into his ear. Jop tears were replaced by a puzzled expression. Jop and the new guy walked several spans from the prisoner. Jop spoke quietly to the court official for several minutes. Hawk could not hear what was transpiring. At length Jop walked back to the prisoner. “Follow me,” he commanded the other men. They turned down a side corridor and went down a flight of stairs. Jop opened one of the doors on the right side with the keys from his big ring. “The prisoner will await here for further instructions from the court.” Jop smiled and squeezed Hawk on the shoulder when the boy entered the room. The door slammed shut. Hawk pounced against it, but it was solid ironwood at least a hand thick. There was no opening, not even a keyhole, on the inside of the door. He pounded on it for several minutes. Tears of anger welled up in his eyes. He caught himself and stood erect, straightening his wrinkled garments. Nothing Hawk had on him was going to get him through the door. He turned around in order to examine his surroundings. The walls in the large room were bare masoned stone, save for overhead holes that had held man upright in chains a century ago. There was a single lit torch in the iron holder bolted nearest to the door. In the center of the small room sat a table with burning candle and two chairs. There was another table with a cloth over it at the shadowy far end. The door was hinged and bolted on the other side. Nothing he had would get through it. Panic set in. He knew one could buy or sell anything in this city for the right price. He did not know what was up, but he had his suspicions, along with the sudden desire to be elsewhere. There seemed no escape. Hawk looked at the torch. A desperate plan came to his mind. There was little chance for success. He made himself grin. Hawk looked down at his left hand. He spoke to it and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of here.” The young thief walked over to the torch. Things had gone too far for any sort of subtlety. Why the guards had not carried out the judge’s orders immediately was a curiosity, but he was not about to lose any body parts if he could help it. Some oil and flame spilled onto the door, along with the contents from a pouch that helped accelerate the process. He backed away from the burning door and returned the torch, a small dagger in his hand. In all his years of thievery, he had never used the blade on another human being. He cloaked his face against the coming smoke. If he made it past the door, he would not stop until he and Keesa were asea. The room started to fill with smoke. Hawk began to cough, holding his sleeve firmly against his mouth. Whoever came through the door was going to get the surprise of his life. His hand entered his shirt and emerged with another small sack. He did not have long to wait. The door swung open. Hawk thrust himself across the span. The young man’s momentum jerked to a halt, his right arm caught in a vise. He looked down through the smoke at a pair of giant boots. The young thief was pulled up eye to eye with the cold, golden stare of a monster. In an instant, the dagger and sack vanished, whereupon he was plopped down into a chair. The giant pulled off his robes to beat at the door in order to extinguish the flames. He wore nothing under the cloak save a leather loincloth held on by a huge leather belt, whose buckle was gold plated steel. A pair of brown boots with black fur surrounding the top came almost up to his knees. With each swipe of the cloak, huge muscles rippled while more smoke filled the air. When the fire was out the giant calmly picked up his staff.

Tabrina ducked into the smoke filled room. She had been waiting for some time to meet this remarkable young man. All of the mysteries, which had gripped her attention upon arriving in Tovinaar, led here, to this room, and this meeting. Jet began to fan the smoke out of the room with what was left of his robe. The High Priestess studied the young thief. He had thick black hair and olive-colored skin. He was of average height and build, but she could feel his considerable prowess. His eyes were blazing black coals, which looked her over in a casual manner. The Water Mage’s powers of empathy were acute, allowing her to know his inner thoughts. His mind was a single point focused on escape. He was curious though, this one, and wanted to know what the game was before trying to make a move. Hawk looked into her pale, blue-gray eyes. She could feel his attraction for her, but that was true of all the men she had ever met. Being one of the Gifted denied her such luxuries as romance. The Gifted were forbidden to marry and have children. He smiled. It was a very beguiling smile, and she instantly liked him. Tabrina lowered her hood and smiled back. Hawk watched her, trying to keep his expression neutral. The giant closed what was left of the door and strode over to the table. His relaxed gaze focused on the prisoner. Tabrina’s hand reached over, gently touching the left side of Hawk’s face. She could feel his pain. He slowly pulled his head away from her hand. “What can I do for you?” he asked. His eyes wandered over to the other table, the one with the white sheet covering a large object. He’s perceptive, and quick, maybe this will work out after all she thought. Her desperation did not show any more than his. “Your name is Hawk,” she stated. He did not reply. “You and your sister, Keesa, have been living here in Tovinaar your entire lives. You lost your parents some time before you can remember. You have been living on these streets ever since, cared for by an old beggar named Frack, who taught you how to survive, among other things.” Although he said nothing, Tabrina could sense his burning curiosity, and growing anxiety. Her expression softened. “No one can blame you Hawk; you never really had a chance. You simply did whatever necessity or circumstance forced upon you to take care of yourself and your sister. No one could fault you for that.” Hawk began to tap the fingers of his left hand onto the table. She looked down at the hand. She gave a half smile and said, “I am sorry for the deception. I needed to talk to you rather badly, I’m afraid. You will find no one on the other side of the door waiting to take you away. In fact, the charges against you do not need exist. This is a truly amazing city. Apparently, one really can buy anything here for a price. I am prepared to make this whole thing disappear.” Hawk started to rise, as if to leave. “Thanks,” he said. Jet put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, big fellow” Hawk said as he sat back down. The thief sighed and looked at Tabrina. “So you know all about me. I am a poor, starving orphan. Was there anything else?” he asked. “Quite a bit actually.” she replied. “Your petty thefts have amounted to nothing up until recently. But now we must needs talk.” “About?” he asked, a little more tense. “Are you aware that the Temple here in Tovinaar has been violated?” She could feel his relief. It puzzled her for a moment. “Me and everyone else in Toren. Is that why I’m here? To tell you who did it?” She realized he had strategized over this moment well in advance. “Have you ever heard of The Lynx?” she asked. He looked confused. His curiosity began to take control of his mind for a moment. “Wasn’t he some sort of thief?” Hawk asked. “Not just any thief, the King of Thieves. His exploits are legendary throughout the Three Realms. He has stolen from every noble from the coasts of Pygar to Balazur’s Keep and is said to be the most successful thief to have ever lived,” Tabrina recounted. Hawk shook his head and held his palms up, truly confused. “Well I hope you catch him. What is all this, anyway? Is he the one that broke into the Temple?” “I am afraid not the one here in Tovinaar, but others to be sure. At any rate, matters of state have taken precedent over any other issues. Someone has been seen using Magic, Forbidden Magic inside the Temple itself!” She could feel his pulse jump. “Yeah, Magic, and demons wander the streets at night luring small children onto their dinner tables. Look why am I here? If you want to talk about Magic, talk to the true believers. Sounds more like the guards needed some kind of excuse to me. Magic indeed! If you need something else….” he paused and nodded slowly, gazing down at the table. He looked back into her eyes with a slight smile on his face. “I know a lot a people here. Perhaps I can steer you in the right direction. I won’t rat on anybody mind you, but I do hear things.” He glanced curiously back over at the white sheet. “Are you aware of the penalty for the use of Magic by anyone not belonging to the Temple of Life?” She continued, and then sensing a slight loss of control inside of him. Good, let him chew on that one for a while! She continued. “By law, I am required to turn over such a person to the Watchers, who would then burn that individual in the Flames of the One. A most horrid spectacle I am told.” On the outside, she could see no signs of fear at all, but her powers could reach beyond the surface, and she knew how much control it took for him to appear nonchalant. “Everybody loves a good roast, don’t they?” he opined calmly. “Look. What has this all this got to do with me?” “That brings us back to The Lynx, Hawk” she replied. She realized he truly did not know who The Lynx was. This was going to be rough. Tabrina looked into the candle light before continuing. “There is a tale about The Lynx. It is said that he grew careless, that he began to think of himself as unstoppable.” She reached her hand towards the flame. “Even after he had acquired enough wealth to let a dozen men live like kings, he found he could not stop himself, for love of the sport.” She began to move her hand back and forth over the flame. “It is even said that he and several companions once tried to rob the King’s Vault itself. It is not exactly known what happened, but they were caught, and The Lynx was the only one to escape. In spite of his best efforts, the rest were later executed for their crimes.” She moved her hand away from the candle. “After that he disappeared. After that the legends stop. However, as you know, we at the Temple have our own way of finding things out.” She looked directly at Hawk. He sat very still. Playing with the candle flame had finally gotten his full attention “The story does not end there. I now know that the Lynx must have been grief stricken after the incident. The pain of his arrogance made life unbearable. He set about to end that life, but you see, there was the matter of the children. Two of the others had left children behind who were completely alone in the world, save for The Lynx.” Hawk’s gaze began to glass over. “Some spark of guilt, or decency, must have driven him beyond the endless pursuit of petty vices that his existence had become. The King of Thieves determined at that moment to spend the rest of his life making up for his past deeds. He hid his wealth, so that no one would discover his true identity, and proceeded to raise the children as if they were his own.” Hawk was scarcely breathing now, and she could feel the importance of her words striking home. She folded her hands together and stared down at the table. “This went on for a while, and The Lynx found happiness for the first time in his life. He discovered an unselfish love inside of himself, which finally brought peace to his restless soul. Many years passed and they lived as a family. Every single day his love for the two children grew.” She sighed as deep emotions began to well up inside of her. “But then a problem arose; the girl, upon reaching puberty, began to undergo the Turning.” Tabrina could feel Hawk’s guts wrenching, churning, every fiber of his being screaming to run for the door. Remarkably, he still showed no signs of stress. Her heart went out to him. She looked over at the white sheet. “Again, what has this little fairy tale to do with me?” he asked quietly. Tabrina fought to control her own emotions, to keep them from spilling out. Everything depended on this moment. “You know, as does everyone, that Magic almost destroyed the world of Ell and everything on it. After the great battle of The Fall, it was decided that Magic would rest solely in the hands of the Temple of Life. The Lynx, not trusting the Temple, or authority of any sort, hid the girl’s Signs and did not do the proper thing, the only thing, and give her over to us. We could have eased the confusion and pain the Turning bring upon the uninitiated.” She could feel Hawk’s heart lock up, the spell she was weaving broken in defiance of her words. Tabrina’s voice caught a little. “Perhaps in the end he simply could not bear to give her up.” She had to stop for a moment, memories of her own parents rising up to haunt her. “It is so horrible, the pain, the confusion the Gifted go through at this time, the endless nightmares and strange incidents. It is different for everyone. Some encounter it as babies in their mother’s arms, others in their teens. Lynx could not bear to see his precious child in that kind of pain, so, he did the unthinkable. Somehow, he found out about the Catacombs, the ancient places of the ancient people of Ell beneath the Temples. Then he crept into those forbidden places and stole from them!” Hawk almost chose that moment to make his move, but she quickly reached into his mind and placed just the slightest sense of hesitation in his thoughts, letting his natural curiosity, the one fatal flaw in any thief, rise above his impulse to run. She looked up and stared very deeply into Hawk’s eyes, drawing him into her control. “He went silently into the Catacombs, but instead of taking the countless jewels and untold treasures, The Lynx chose to steal books and scrolls long buried with the dead, writings containing the secrets of the forbidden arts. The girl’s pain began to ease as her natural talents found direction and focus. But it was a hit and miss sort of thing as to which piece of Arcane knowledge might be of use to her. Her problems continued, and so he had to keep on taking more risks, robbing Temples closer and closer to home until….” Tabrina changed subjects, “The Temple Eldresses had a real dilemma. You see, very few knew where those secret catacombs lay. We do not dare destroy the knowledge for fear that we may someday need it. At the same time, if people knew that the Ancient Dead lurked right here beneath their feet, it would shake the very foundations of our society.” “So why tell one of the livestock?” Hawk countered. Tabrina smiled, a smile which seemed to warm the whole room. For an instant, she could feel his relief, as if they were not talking about the death of his whole family. She had the face of an angel, and she was not much older than Hawk. “It is not really a secret anymore, is it? Hawk, this is going to be hard. You have to be strong now. I do not have much time. There are so many things you do not understand yet.” She stood up and walked around the table. Hawk’s dark gaze moved from her to the giant, then back again. She looked into his eyes. She took him by the hand, allowing him to feel her compassion. For a moment, it overwhelmed him. Together they walked over to the other table. Hawk looked at the shape outlined under the sheet. “No,” he said hoarsely. He began to shake his head. Making him wait would not lessen the nightmare. Tabrina pulled off the sheet. Hawk looked down at the mortal remains of his adopted father, Frack. The body was several weeks old and in very bad condition. Only the Temple’s centuries old knowledge of preserving bodies kept flesh from crumbling away from the bone. The skin had a light blue tinge, and Frack’s clothes were ripped and tattered. Hawk stared up towards the ceiling away from the horror. “NO!” he screamed. Tears welled up in his eyes. He dropped to his knees, weeping like a child. She knelt beside him and put her hands on his shoulders. She pushed gently with her Gift. She did not want to stop the grieving process, just ease it a little. Jet reached down and patted his other shoulder. The two strangers flanked Hawk’s sides until his wracking sobs finally abated. He leaned against the table and drug himself to his feet “Who? What? Why?” They led him back to the candlelit table. She reached into her robes and produced a dagger, which she sat on the hard bolewood surface. “That did, that is what killed your father,” she stated. Tabrina looked up at Hawk. She placed a hand on his.” I swear to you, Hawk, you have no reason to fear either my companion or myself. We do not wish any harm to fall on you or your sister. In fact we desperately need your help!” Hawk stared blankly from her to the giant. Jet remained as impassive as ever. Her hand was on Hawk’s cheek. She summoned the Gift. This time he did not turn away. The pain in his faced eased. Upon removal of her hand, there was no sign of the bruises at all. She looked at him, her eyes tender pools of mercy. “Look at the dagger, Hawk.” Hawk picked it up casually in his right hand. If the giant had any concern, he did not show it. Hawk examined the blade. The green handle took the shape of a demon groad. Red enameled flames adorned the blood runners along the blade. The metal seemed more silver than steel. He set it back down on the table. “It is over a thousand years old, Hawk,” she stated. “The Temple Eldresses were not the only ones interested in your father’s nocturnal sojourns. It would seem that someone else had been watching also.” “Who?” Hawk asked. She could feel the confused emotions washing over him like a great tide, all pretenses wiped away. Intensity suddenly consumed him. “We do not know. I have heard rumors that they are in the hands of the Watchers, but I do not know for sure.” Hawk slumped back in his chair and began to cry once more. She sensed his thoughts finally unravelling. Revenge had driven through his soul like a nail, but this pain was something he was unprepared for, and she watched his mind collapse in on itself. He closed his eyes for a moment, unable to settle his ragged breathing. When he straightened up, he stared at Tabrina; his eyes burned like a dark flame. “What do you want from us?” he asked. “That brings me to you. Frack was probably in the hands of his assassins at the time of the Temple robbery. It was you who burgled the Temple with the aid of your sister’s Magic. I have made extensive inquiries around the Marketplace concerning you and your sister. I know why she is seen so seldom in the daytime now. Magic is such an unstable beast at first. It can exact a great toll on the uninformed practitioner. From your activities, which I have observed myself in the Marketplace on several occasions, I would conjecture that Frack taught you all he knew before… well, while he had a chance. By all rights, I should turn you both over to the Temple. I would rather not do that.” Hawk lost his patience. “Why don’t you then? What do you want from me?” he shouted. His face became a mask of frustrated rage. “We need your help in a small matter. You are a master thief. Your sister is the only one alive as far as we know that has any practice in the forbidden areas of Magic, and knowledge only the Ancients possessed. We must locate Frack’s treasure. It contains an item that I need, that indeed, the very fate of the world depends on.” “And if we refuse?” he asked. She could sense his utter disbelief and contempt of her childlike notions. “If you should refuse, I have no choice. The Temple will deal with this in the traditional way. The only reason you and your sister are still alive is because I need you.” Hawk picked up the dagger. A soft green glow only the Gifted could see surrounded the blade. Candlelight shined up at his face, casting an evil guise to his features. Someone knocked on the door. Jet walked over and opened it. There was a small popping sound, and the giant fell over backwards hitting the floor with a resounding thud. A small black-robed figure walked over the giant ad up to the table. Someone that could only be Keesa snatched the dagger from Hawk’s hand. “Gimme that!” She pointed the dagger at Tabrina. Tabrina stared in alarm as the green glow began creeping up Keesa’s arm. “Listen bitch, I’m sure you make a fine Temple whore, but that is my idiot brother sitting there, and you are going to quietly lead us out of here, or I am going to open up your guts all over this floor. Do you understand?” the Fire Mage inquired. Tabrina could not take her eyes off the emerald glow enveloping Keesa, cutting off her thoughts from the Water Mage. “Kee,” Hawk said in a broken voice. “Shut up! I got this,” returned his sister. Murderous intent suddenly filled Keesa’s eyes. Tabrina knew then that the dagger had taken over Keesa, and the Water Mage had only a few seconds of life left! Hawk grabbed Keesa’s robe and yanked, “KEE!” “What?” He pointed to the other table. Tabrina could feel the pain washing over Keesa as the spell over the young girl snuffed out. Keesa’s face twisted in her newfound horror as she ran over to her father’s body and began to scream.

The sounds of Keesa’s agony seemed distant to Hawk. He felt removed, as if he were not really in the room at all. The whole thing took on a dreamlike quality. He held Keesa while she wept and screamed out for Frack. He looked down at her quivering body, and it seemed as if it was just part of some strange nightmare. He reached over and put his hand on Frack’s forearm. They stood for a long time beside the body. No one came in to disturb them. “We need to get out of here,” He finally said in a soft voice. Tabrina stood up. Keesa shouted something incoherent, and the room was suddenly full of smoke. Hawk and Keesa ran. Nobody took any notice of them as they went up the stairs and out of the jail. The priestess must have some purse, thought Hawk. As they stepped into the twilight of spring, Hawk looked at his left hand, opening and closing it while the tears ran down Keesa’s cheeks.

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