Galathorn made no attempt to conceal the disgust he felt toward the revolting man standing just inside the doorway of his office. One of his men, called Nero. Those strangely bulbous lips, enormous nose, and widely spaced eyes. A face so profoundly ugly that it was simply unforgettable.
The Archduke's spymaster knew which whorehouse the man frequented, for of course no woman would voluntarily bed down with such a foul creature. He also knew Nero was a valuable asset to his network of spies, skilled at concealing himself as a beggar on the street, or a drunk. Even, when the occasion warranted, capable of great stealth.
Now, however, he stood dripping, a puddle of mud forming at his feet as it ran off his drenched clothing.
“Why do you smell like that?” Galathorn asked.
“I was in the swamp, sire.”
“And for some reason, you felt compelled to bring the swamp into my office? What were you doing in the swamp?”
“Sir, Berin said you needed me to follow those kids, and so I did what he asked. I followed those kids. Then they went into the swamp.”
Berin loomed behind the man, still in the doorway, his knuckles white, hands clenched, scar upon scar standing out across the brawler’s large fists. Berin looked as though he was just waiting for the nod to begin pummeling this man. Barely contained violence hummed in the air around him, almost enough to make Galathorn smile. It was one of the most valued traits his second-in-command possessed.
“So, you are telling me you lost them in the swamp?”
“Yes, my lord. They crawled into a tree trunk, and I thought for sure there must be a trap door or some kind of concealed room or something down there, but there was nothing. I looked for hours trying to find out where they’d gone in that tree trunk, and they were just…gone.”
Galathorn spat and cursed. They had obviously not disappeared into a tree trunk. However, there must be some truth to the man’s words, as he had provided valuable intelligence on multiple occasions in the past.
“And when you lost them, you are certain they had the key?”
“I am, sir. They put it in that satyr’s bag before they left.”
“Fuck,” cursed Galathorn in an uncharacteristic display of emotion as he slapped the top of his desk. The Archduke would be furious with him for losing the relic. Thanks to the anti-scrying amulets that he himself had provided those cursed fools, he had no way of figuring out where they’d gone. Hopefully Emmyth would forget that little detail.
“Very well. Get out of my sight.”
The man gave a bow and backed up, but startled when he bumped into Berin, who declined to move.
“Excuse me,” Nero said, bowing his head meekly.
Berin pushed past him rudely into the room, carefully avoiding stepping in the mud where the man had been standing. Yet another frustration, but at least this one was easily solved. He’d have one of the girls come in to clean it up, and when she was done, he could have her give him a nice, relaxing bath as well. Just the thought of it already began to calm his irritation.
He looked up at Berin. “Is there something else?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, giving a nod of his head. “I also have reports that the Raith boy was nosing around Lady Greendawn’s estate during the party and asking questions.”
“Asking questions about what?”
“About her monthly nighttime gatherings that we’ve been looking into, sir.”
The foul mood came rushing back. How in the threaded fuck had that boy found out anything about Lady Greendawn’s secrets? He’d been a noble for barely a minute. If he wound up somehow fouling up the spymaster’s investigation, he could ruin everything.
To Berin, he only said, “Thank you. That will be all. Please send in one of the serving girls on your way out.”
The man backed out with a bow with an obnoxiously knowing smile. When the door closed, Galathorn put his head in his hands, took a deep, long-suffering sigh, and cursed the day he had ever had a child.
***
Raith found himself relaxing to a surprising extent as the team made their way down the gossamer path. Within the protection of [Staccato] and removed from the realm of mortalkind, he felt more safe and secure than he had in a long time.
Even Zinny seemed to calm down, flitting between helping Raith understand how to find his way and reach a destination along these paths, and pointing out dangers to look out for along them, and back to Nyhm, pointing out various plants that could only be found in the faerie realm and helping him to collect them. Then to Thea, with whom she had surprisingly sober conversations about the nature of the fae and her memories of a time before the satyrs abandoned them for the gods to live among mortals.
They had exited from the ruins of an alpine ghost village, with quaint looking cabins sparsely populating a beautiful mountain valley, and emerged into a field of gently rolling plains. The road cut a straight path between waist-high grass and wildflowers, bugs and birds darting just above the gently swaying landscape.
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He was walking next to Thea in amiable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, when abruptly his friend slapped her side. She stood ramrod-straight, halting in the middle of the path.
“What the fuck?”
She whirled around, and Raith looked to where she’d slapped her side. They both looked at each other.
“My pouch,” she said.
Panic gripped Raith’s heart. Everything of value they had was in that pouch. The horn, the tome, the chalice with Wondrous Dahbi.
“Where did you lose it?” he asked desperately. “How long has it been gone?”
“Just now! I just now felt a tug!”
They looked around intently, Raith focusing his [Hawksight] to the best of his ability. There was no one here but the team, and outside of the radius of [Staccato] everything was motionless.
“Guys!” he shouted to the rest of the team, who were lost in conversation and hadn’t yet noticed there was cause for alarm.
Nyhm immediately saw the look on his brother’s face, and his brows furrowed. Tolliver and Zinny were a little slower to understand, but they too stopped.
“Did you guys see anybody? Thea’s pouch is gone.”
Tolliver’s face paled, and Zinny cast around with exaggerated looks.
“There’s nobody here,” she said. “I would have known. Or maybe I wouldn’t have known. Would I have known?”
She looked at Tolliver as if he might have the answer to that question, and he just shrugged, shaking his head.
Raith cast along the ground, looking for any indication of tracks besides theirs, and could see nothing that had recently come down this road aside from the people standing right before him.
And then he noticed the slightest scuff, the barest imprint of a footprint, of someone who was not himself, standing right next to Thea. However, there were no tracks leading to or away from her. But there was no mistaking the boot print, and further, no mistaking that it did not belong to any of them. Silas had at least taught him that well.
“There’s someone here with us,” he said, casting his eyes around warily.
The team did likewise, spreading their arms and making a slow circle, as if at any moment they might be attacked…and for all Raith knew, they might.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s stop and think for a second. It was just taken, which means that whoever took it still has to be neatby. And if they stepped outside of my circle, then they’re frozen with respect to us, which means they didn’t get far away. So right now, that’s what we have to do. We’ll explore the circle, maybe just outside the circle, and we’ll find whoever has done this.”
Zinny leaned forward and whispered into Phineas’s ear. The faerie dragon gave a little roar and flap of his huge butterfly wings. His eyes began to shine with a faint white glow, and Zinny’s took on a matching light. They made a slow circle around the perimeter. He soon came to a halt, hovering at the edge of Raith’s [Staccato] field on the road behind them, and made a weird chuffing noise.
“Someone invisible is right there,” Zinni declared cheerfully.
“Is it some kind of fae or creature from the Dreaming?” Raith asked.
Zinny shook her head firmly. “Nope. It’s just a human.”
Raith scrunched his face in confusion. How could that be possible? With [Staccato] active no one could have caught the group as they traveled down the gossamer path, and they certainly hadn’t stumbled upon anyone while they went.
Thea interrupted his thoughts as he tried to puzzle out the mystery.
“What does he look like?”
Zinny peered intently. “Just a normal human, I guess. Shorter than you, Raith, but built about the same. Shoulder length hair the color of wheat. His face looks pale and filmy, like you do the morning after you drink too much. He’s got a cruel look about him.”
“Does he have any weapons?” Nyhm asked.
“A shortsword and a dagger. He’s wearing a leather chestpiece, but that’s it for armor. His clothes look expensive but dirty, as though he hasn’t bothered to wash them in a while. Oh, and he’s got Thea’s pouch. He's looking inside it.”
"Can Phineas cast his see invisible spell on the rest of us?"
"Just one. He can only cast it three times a day and he's already used twice."
The faerie dragon chuffed in agreement.
"I should be able to see him in bat form," Tolliver said. "Invisibility spells don't account for echolocation."
"I have a [Blindfight] [Skill]," Nyhm offered.
Thea looked at Raith.
"My vines are less precision oriented than your weapon. You take the spell, and I'll cue my attacks off of everyone else's."
"Alright. Zinny, please have Phineas cast his spell on me."
Raith felt an odd tingling in his eyes, and the figure Zinny had described shimmered into view. The man was frowning, hand inside the pouch as though he had stopped to ensure whatever he had come for was inside before leaving.
Raith let out a breath of relief tempered by trepidation. At least the pouch hadn’t gone far.
He began to take a step forward, but Thea held up a hand.
“Wait.”
“What?” Raith asked.
“If you step forward and move the area of effect past him, he’ll be able to move again. Why don’t we figure out what we’re going to do before that happens?”
Tolliver cleared his throat. “I believe Lady Thea has described the wisest course of action.”
Raith puffed his cheeks and exhaled. “Then what do you propose we do?”
Tolliver outlined the plan crisply.
“Capture him.”
Aside from the fact that he had an instinctive aversion to simply murdering the thief, the [Mage] was right. He need to find out who this guy is and if there are others. He obviously didn’t come upon them by accident. He wasn't even sure which item they were after, and that could make a lot of difference on what they did next.
“Agreed,” Raith said. “Zinny, the moment he’s in here, hit him with a sleep arrow. Nyhm, catch him in an armbar or something grappley.”
Nyhm frowned.
“Grappley?”
“Oh, you know what I mean. Thea, you set up some vines to entangle him. Tolliver, you and I will be on standby. If needed, deliver a concussive blast. I’ll stand by with my rope dart to entangle him if he avoids everything else.”
With the plan in place, the team arrayed themselves around the spot Zinny indicated. Raith scanned his teammates.
“Everyone ready?”
They nodded.
He activated [Gloaming Mirage] and took a step forward. Immediately, Zinny loosed an arrow, quickly followed by another, and a sharp yelp rang out. Thea hurled a seed to the ground where the arrows had been aimed. Vines sprang up, coiling and writhing into the air. Nyhm leapt forward, groping blind for the body he expected to find.
Tolliver and Raith stood by, waiting to see the efficacy of their teammates’ actions.
Nyhm grasped something firm and fell forward. Raith watched the two arrows Zinny had shot tumble to the ground abruptly.
“He’s gone!” Nyhm cried.
Zinny whirled Phineas and swept the perimeter. They searched outside the area-effect, Phineas huffed and chuffed at the edge, then paused. “He’s right here! He’s right here!” Zinny cried, pointing.
They reorganized and repeated the procedure to the exact same effect. This time, however, a voice rang out from behind Raith. Harsh and imperious, with a slightly panicked edge.
“How have you stopped my power from working as it should? It only works within this sphere. How dare you deny me my divine right!”
“Who are you?” Raith shouted. “Just give us the pouch back and we’ll let you go.”
“I will be able to leave just fine, when you are all dead,” the voice intoned, and the distinct rasp of steel drawn from leather brought a grimace to Thea's face.
A chill rolled down Raith’s spine as he braced himself for a fight. His teammates did the same.
