River of Thieves Read online

  "Well, that's one down," I said, referring to the leaving wizard.

  Rek nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. "Whaddya think of Lux?"

  "Creepy, but she's got a certain charm," I said.

  Rek nodded. "She went through the trials here about three years back. It cracked her. She died and somehow came back. I don't know why they let her walk out of there. The Leashmen are paranoid about magic they don't understand."

  "They don't understand necromancy?"

  Rek shook his head. "From what they say, it wasn't necro. Whoever--or whatever--brought her back wasn't anywhere near."

  "So why did they? Let her go, that is."

  Rek shrugged. "Maybe she knew someone in the Circle. Maybe they took pity on her. Got to be hard, passing though the deadlands to the other side and then getting yanked back. Either way, she got real lucky."

  "That's surprising, considering the Harrowers."

  Rek shook his head. "Harrowers are scary, but they don't fuck with the Veil."

  "Why is that?"

  "Not sure. There's a rumor though that even touching the other side, just for a moment, can let all kinds of things into your head, let alone the world. Scares the hell out of the whitebeards, though."

  "You think she brought something back?"

  Rek waved a hand. "Could've. Might not have. Maybe she just woke something up."

  "Like?"

  "They say there are things sleeping beyond the Veil."

  "What kind of things?"

  "Dunno. Things. I'm just an interested observer, not a scholar."

  "You're just full of interesting information."

  Rek shrugged again. "I'm a freakin' font."

  The door burst open and Cord and Lux swept in, bags in their hands.

  "Darling!" Cord exclaimed. "You are going to love your new look!"

  "Shit," I breathed.

  They proceeded to pull robes, tunics, trousers, and all manner of accessories from the bags, tossing them into a pile on the floor. I spotted a number of earrings and chains, a femur; a gnarled stick carved with small faces I assumed was supposed to be a wand, and a stuffed squirrel. I picked it up out of morbid curiosity. The taxidermist had posed it with both paws raised, claws outspread, teeth bared. Buttons stood from its skull in place of eyes, and its tail was a dagger blade. I dropped it and wiped my hands on my trousers.

  "What the fuck?" I asked.

  Cord turned to me while emptying bags, a grin on his face. A shit-eating grin, in retrospect.

  "You remember that idea I had?"

  "Yeah?" I drew the word out, not liking where this was going.

  "Well... you need a disguise."

  My stomach sank. I looked at the accumulated accoutrements. Wands, robes, miscellaneous items for piercings... the squirrel. I looked at Cord in horror.

  "You want me to pretend to be a Harrower!"

  "Well, yeah."

  "Why me?"

  He sighed, as if long-suffering and I suppressed the urge to punch his nose into his sinus cavity.

  "Lux is a student here. Rek looks like someone dug up a boulder and taught it to talk, and I am well-known. Too much so. And that leaves you, my dear."

  "Fuck," I muttered, and started to dig through the piles. I held up a hoop twisted to look like a barbed wire. "You know I don't have any piercings, right?"

  Cord shrugged. "We'll improvise."

  I sincerely hoped that didn't mean he'd find a way to pierce me. I sorted through the piles, trying to discern what a Harrower might wear. I needed to get in the right mindset. I took a deep breath, and tried to think scary thoughts. Spiders. Spiders made of dicks. Cord's dick. Yeah, that did it. I shuddered and picked out a sleeveless robe covered with scrawled writing, a necklace of teeth, and the squirrel. I slipped to the privy, changed my kama and my clothes, and chewed another sliver of slipweed. I'd been lucky, as it kept the worst of the cramps at bay so far.

  I exited the privy to moderate applause, and grimaced.

  "I feel like a troubled teen."

  Cord laughed, then gestured that we should gather round.

  ***

  The simplicity of the plan both impressed and disappointed me. I love the beauty of a complex web of deception, but when it comes down to execution, simple is always better for the players. Unfortunately, it required two of us to put ourselves in the shit. Lux had the job of luring the Leashmen away. I needed to convince the Harrower to leave. If I couldn't talk him into it, I'd resort to plan B: stabbing him in the neck 'til he didn't live no more. I squirmed in the heavy robes while I waited for Lux to get into position. The wool scratched my skin into itchy redness, and I fought the urge to rip it off and throw it out the window, followed by a plunge directly into the lake.

  The others waited closer to the boat. While Lux and I occupied the guards, they'd sneak aboard as soon as the coast was clear. I shifted again and blew an irritated breath. I didn't know how wizards did it. Cord claimed they were all naked underneath, but considering the small amount of now-inflamed skin mine touched, I sincerely fucking doubted it. Then again, maybe that explained all the latent evil.

  Finally, a screech echoed down the street, breaking the waiting tension. A workman sprinted by, stopping only long enough to look behind him. Moments later, several more followed. Lux appeared soon after, running pell-mell at them, howling and growling the entire way. A siren sounded somewhere deeper in town, and an air of panic filled Tremaire like a haze as other groups popped into view and charged about in chaotic herds.

  "Help! It's escaped! It's escaped!" A man in an apron yelled as he rounded a corner.

  He carried a basket of baked goods, pelting Lux as she drew near. A pastry filled with custard exploded against her. She paused in her pursuit long enough to dip a finger in the dessert and bring it to her lips. She licked her lips and winked at the baker, sending him screaming as she loosed another roar.

  He sprinted away in a panic, disappearing down a side street. I watched while the Leashmen's mild interest became alarm. The captain turned and said something to the Harrower, then readied squad arms and set off in a quick march down the street, filing away from the dock. I waited until the last disappeared around the corner, then straightened and sauntered onto the dock.

  The harrower looked up as I approached. A pinched face held milky eyes, fat lips, and a shocking lack of eyebrows. It was a face built for cruelty. I halted a few feet from him. He spoke in a high, thin voice that set my teeth on edge.

  "And what do you need? I supposed all our brothers and sisters were in the Hive."

  Oh good. They called it the Hive. That wasn't creepy at all. "The Harbormaster—"

  "That fat shit? He couldn't find his cock in the dark with both hands and a glowlight."

  "That's the one. He asked me to relieve you."

  The Harrower frowned and turned his head to one side. "That seems unlikely. He knows what I've seen here. Death lurks," he lifted the severed skull and kissed its lips. "Yes, Raze knows it lurks. He has told me with his own dry lips."

  I cleared my throat and gripped the squirrel dagger tighter. "Well, Biffy here says you're to leave."

  "Really." The Harrower's not-eyebrows came together. "Interesting." He paused. "You know what I think? I think you're not a Harrower at all."

  "I am too. I even have Biffy here." I waved the squirrel at him.

  "Oh yeah? Then Harrow something."

  "What?"

  "You heard me. Bring forth a nightmare."

  "You first."

  He sighed, and stood. He was easily a foot taller than me; making me aware I stood alone on a dock with a half-mad wizard. He lifted the skull, and emitted a high-pitched squeal. I winced as it reached a peak, and the skull's eyes took on an unnatural glow. The air before him rippled and distorted, and I knew two things were about to happen. One, something very unpleasant was going to come out of that space, and two, he'd know I couldn't Harrow. I panicked.

  I rushed hi
m while he still held his eyes shut. I raised the squirrel, wicked tail blade glinting in the weird light from the skull's sockets. Just as the humming stopped in an abrupt squeal, I jammed the dagger end of the dead rodent into his throat and sawed sideways, spraying myself with blood. I left it as he toppled, all sound cutting off aside from a wet gurgle. I moved to push the body into the water, and a sound behind me made me spin.

  Something fleshy came scuttling toward me, plump and pink.

  “Oh gods.” The words escaped me involuntarily.

  It was a fucking dick spider. I cursed myself for imagining such a thing before facing a Harrower. It was worse than I’d pictured. My heart hammered in panic. I bravely screamed a battle cry that definitely wasn't a cry of disgust and stomped it to death with one steel-shod boot. The heel made the fleshy tubes burst and squish, spraying black ichor over the boards of the dock. As it died, it shuddered and chirped frantically. It stopped moving with one last horrifying squeal.

  Heaving for breath, I pushed first it, and then the Harrower's body--still sporting a taxidermied squirrel protruding from the neck--into the lake. I imagined the wizard still squirming as he fell, and choked back a retch. He sank with a splash into the murky water, and even as his robes billowed under the surface, Cord and the rest came sprinting from their hiding places. Lux stopped long enough to give me a sideways look. They leaped over the side of the boat, and cast the ropes off.

  "Fer fuck's sake, Nenn!" Cord hissed. "You gonna stand there in the fuckin' slop you made, or get on the godsdamned boat?"

  I shook myself and fled, feet slipping for a moment in the gore. I pitched over the side of the dock, nearly joining the Harrower below, then a strong hand gripped my arm, and Rek hauled me aboard. The boat drifted away from the dock, and with a little help from Cord and Rek, was soon underway. I collapsed on the deck and watched the sky and clouds slip by as the sails unfurled and caught the wind.

  Doesn't This Shitheap Go Any Faster

  We crossed the lake at a good clip, the wind at our backs despite the tree cover when Cord shouted from the crow's nest.

  "Masts!"

  He slid down the rigging, moving as easily as a spider in its web, and the memory of the thing on the dock made me involuntarily scrape my boots on the deck. I suppressed a shudder of disgust. Cord jumped from the net of ropes and landed lightly on the deck. I was impressed. I hadn't expected him to move so nimbly. In the Veldt, knowing a ship or a boat was almost required education in your youth, and most of the common people did one stint or another aboard a fishing or farming trawler. Still, for a man of Cord's stature, his dexterity came as a small surprise.

  He hurried up to the quarterdeck, where Rek manned the wheel. Cord pointed over his shoulder. I joined them, Lux climbing the stairs to the other side. We gathered at the aft, watching. For a moment, all we saw was the gentle curve of the horizon and the dwindling spire of the Arcanum. Then several tall masts appeared, breaking the line where water met sky. They gained rapidly, churning up water behind them. And behind those, a massive shape breached the water, mottled skin absorbing the light.

  "Mage engines," Cord spat. "They'll be on us in less than an hour."

  "What's the thing following them?" I asked.

  "Leviathan," Lux said.

  "Fuck," Cord whispered.

  "What do we do?" Rek asked. "This heap hasn't any weapons."

  "We're not going to outrun them, either," Lux said. "I can whip up a wind that'll keep us ahead for a while, but we'll need another solution. Unless you can fly or breathe water, then you should probably start doing that."

  Cord nodded. "Get us the wind."

  Cord kept an eye on the ships behind us. Static built in the air nearby, then discharged with a whoosh, speeding our ship along at the head of our own private zephyr. I glanced once behind us and made my way down to the gallery. A privy sat amid our quarters, and I relieved myself, and then changed my kama. I sat for a short while, letting the roll of the water and the effect of the slipweed soothe my aches.

  I curled and uncurled my toes, a trick taught me by an old constable. It was supposed to drive some of the stress away. All it did was make my feet cramp. The entire endeavor seemed cursed from the start. If I didn't know better, I'd think all the gods of the Veldt stood against us, arrayed like sentinels. The idea honestly made as much sense as humans interested in the affairs of ants.

  I'm not much for religion, never really was. It's hard to believe in any deity that says 'This is your lot in life. You can't improve it, but if you worship me, I can make it not worse'. That's not patronage, it's blackmail. It's a protection racket. I'd seen a million of them, growing up in the streets and the alleys. I could respect the hustle, but not the sentiment. Seemed to me those with power possessed a responsibility to those smaller than them. Had a duty. Don't be a shit, and don't make the world worse, and if you have the means, make it better. Life is already paved with a spiraling path toward entropy. We didn't need to add to it.

  Not that Anaxos' priests knew anything about that. The churches were in on it. Tithe, donate, spend. Make the pews more comfortable, make the books more ornate, make the spire bigger so we can fuck the heavens with our giant phallic patriarchal metaphor. The only thing we shared was belief in Camor, patron of thieves. The difference was, we worshipped them in the open, and the priests sneered in public and knelt at the altar in secret. I honestly didn't know which would please Camor more. According to Cord, their sense of humor was only outweighed by their propensity for mischief.

  A deep shuddering moan from the hold below interrupted my thoughts. I broke from the room and sprinted above deck, making for the aft. The others still gathered around the rail, watching the mage ships gain. I saw detail—naked steel masts crackling with energy, the hulls low and sleek. A crew of mundane sailors worked the decks, and three mages stood on the prow of each. At the near distance, power filled the air, thickening it.

  "Gods, what did we steal?" I asked.

  Cord shrugged. "Might be about who you killed."

  I swallowed hard. The ship rocked slightly, and I tapped Cord on the shoulder. He looked away from our pursuers.

  “There’s something in the hold,” I said.

  He grimaced and nodded. “Hold the wheel,” he said to Rek.

  He motioned for Lux and me to follow and led us below deck. The stairs creaked as we descended. First past the middle decks, and then down to stowage. I halted when I saw the thing squatting in the middle of the floor.

  “You knew about this?” I asked, suppressing the urge to punch Cord in the neck.

  Cord nodded and Lux let out a low whistle.

  “This is grotesque,” Lux said. “Impressively so. I wonder how they managed this—I’d love to take it apart, see the tickings and the tockings and the little gristly bits.”

  I gave her side-eye. This was a Harrower engine. It followed the same principles of a mage engine—in design at least—black iron base above which a polished orb of obsidian floated. Around that, two bands of silver levitated and spun in opposition to one another. The difference was that mage engines ran on carefully grown and cultivated crystals. In the core of this one, someone had placed a human heart. It pumped away, as if it still in its owner’s ribcage.

  “Bleh,” I said. My brain refused to find an articulate way to express my distaste.

  I’d seen several gross things dealing with Cord’s deaths, but this was in another room from that. Disturbing was the best I had at hand, but it felt a paltry description for the thing in front of me. Even as the silver hoops spun in lazy circles, a sort of dark light pulsed from the orb. My eyes ached looking at it.

  “What’s it do?” I asked.

  “It uh…” Cord began.

  "You don't know?" I asked, forcing my voice below the level of a scream.

  Cord shrugged. "It's obviously very important."

  "You stole the boat for important? To who?"

  "To whom," he replied. I reached for my knives.
/>   “It folds space,” Lux said, interrupting us and keeping Cord from growing a new mouth in his neck.

  “Explain that. How do you fold air?”

  “If you’ve got two points, it brings them together by punching a hole in our reality and making a shortcut. Like cutting through a mountain instead of going around it. Super fast travel,” she said.

  I held up a hand. “Wait. Our reality? And a Harrower made it?” I shook my head. “No. Fuck no. No fuckin’ way.”

  Cord chucked me on the shoulder, and for the third time that day I resisted the urge to break a part of him.

  “C’mon, it’ll be an adventure,” he said.

  “It’ll be a disaster,” I replied.

  Cord opened his mouth to retort, but the ship shuddered and groaned, interrupting him. The boat listed for a moment before righting itself. His expression sobered.

  “We were never going to outrun the mage engines without it.”

  My stomach knotted, then the ship shuddered again, and I heard the splinter of wood. Even from the hold, I heard Rek curse.

  “We’re gonna die here, Nenn,” Cord said. “Or at least you will.”

  “I’m not a fan of death,” Lux supplied. "Really, the once was enough."

  I cursed and spat on the deck. “Fuck. Get it running. If we get out of this, I’m going to wear your balls for earrings, Cord.”

  He grinned, then saw my expression and let it drop. “You should get above deck,” he said, then nodded to Lux.

  I climbed the stairs as the air tightened around me. Up top, a gray hue crept into the world. Though I saw the mage ships nearby, they grew transparent as each second passed, sound leeching from their pursuit. A great sigh came from below, and then a scream, like someone caught in a spiked vice. The world shimmered, and then broke. Rek screamed at the transition, and I realized we’d forgotten to tell him about the engine. I ran to the quarterdeck to calm the big man as everything disappeared and we sailed into the black.