Brother Thief (Song of the Aura, Book One) (17 page)

  
“He means that the content of my father’s letter is disconcerting.”

  
“I
know
that, Prince Pudding-face. What’s in the letter to make you both so glum?”

  
The prince of Vastion took a deep breath before answering. “Once, long ago, my ancestors ruled nearly all of Vast, including the Giant’s Isle in the far west. Of course our supremacy is no longer so complete, but over the past several generations, the situation in the south has dangerously deteriorated. Our kingdom is now at the point of breaking apart, with men like Dunelord Ymorio hacking out small kingdoms of their own inside our borders, while pirates and barbarians harass us from without. It’s a volatile time. My father…” here his voice almost broke, and Gribly could clearly see the struggle it was for him to continue. Finally he managed it.

  
“My father is a strong man, but he is dying of age and sickness,” said the prince. “In this last, desperate year a new threat has steadily become the worst: Monsters and hellish abominations worse than the one you fought in the arena are leaking out of Blast’s chasms and pits, and they are wreaking havoc on our allies in the Greenwood and Greyfeld. In response, my father… King Larion… had sent me with a message to persuade Dunelord Ymorio, the last and most powerful Sand Strider in this part of Vast, to aid us in our time of need.”

  
“Fat chance of that. He probably would’ve had you killed if we’d gone with your plan for meeting him,” Gribly commented. Lauro shrugged.

  
“My father wasn’t a fool. The message asks only that I be guaranteed safe, guarded passage north to the Grymclaw. Nothing more.”

 
 
“The Grymclaw…” Dunelord Argoz nodded, lost deep in thought while the two lads spoke together. “King Larion has not entirely forgotten the old beliefs, I see.”

  
“He has kept the Statutes better than any nymph!” declared the prince hotly.

  
“I don’t understand,” Gribly interrupted, hoping to stop whatever age-old argument the other two were about to renew. “Why would the southlands king risk his own son to make the journey all the way up eastern Vast, just to make some sort of pilgrimage?” Not the best way to prod, but he hoped it would do. Apparently it did- both Argoz and Lauro calmed down and looked at him seriously.

  
The wind strider prince answered first.

  
“There are two reasons I’m making this
pilgrimage
,” he told the thief. “The first is simple: my father has no one else to send. No one trustworthy can be spared from the border wars except me.” He glanced knowingly at Argoz, seated on the other side of the table. “As to the second reason, I believe our loyal cleric is better suited to answer.”

  
The nymph didn’t protest. “Though it is not expressly stated in the king’s message, I can think of only one reason the prince would desire to visit the Grymclaw.” He pushed his bushy gray eyebrows into a furrowed “V,” scrutinizing Gribly closely. “You have demonstrated exceptional perception thus far, young one, so I will assume your claims to knowing the Aura are true.”

  
“Would I
lie
about something that crazy?” Gribly laughed, suddenly and strangely excited.

  
“No indeed,” smiled the cleric ruefully. He stood up and backed away from the marble-sand table.

  
“Wait!” the thief cried, pieces falling together in his mind. “Are you saying the Grymclaw has something to do with the Aura and their Creator?”

  
“Even better,” burst Lauro, quietly but emphatically. “If the old, secret beliefs are true, it’s where one of the Aura
lives
.”

Chapter Thirteen:
Fighting Legends

  
“Your plan is crazy... blasted bloody crazy,” Gribly said, shaking his head as he and Lauro wound their way through the dirty crowds of the city's underbelly. They were both dressed similarly to the poor folk around them. This, coupled with the hubbub of noise that enveloped everything here, was sufficient to disguise anything out of the ordinary about themselves or their conversation.

  
“Then why did you agree to help me?” Lauro asked, grunting with displeasure as a burly butcher in a bloody apron shoved his way between them and was lost in the crowd. The prince was obviously not used to such mistreatment, and Gribly had to stifle a chuckle.

  
“What, help you on your mad quest past the known limits of the world, to find an ancient imprisoned spirit and use his knowledge to save a kingdom I've never seen in my life? Who
wouldn't
want to do something like that?”

  
“You,” Lauro said simply. Gribly led him around a tight corner, where they hopped down into a sunken, cracked pathway that ran between two tall mud-daub buildings. No one followed them, and the way was empty except for two men at the far end.

  
“Honestly?” Gribly answered, quieter than before. “I'm doing this because you saved my life. And because... well... I have my own questions to answer, just like you.” An awkward silence followed as they neared the end of the alley. Just when Lauro was about to speak again, Gribly interrupted, feeling strangely hesitant for their talk to go any deeper. “Here we are, m'lord,” he said jokingly, stopping a few yards from the end of the pathway.

  
“Don't-” Lauro began, but something made him stop.

  
Gribly could imagine what. The two men at the end of the alley were striding towards them, enormous arms bared, hefting clubs the size of small trees. One was tall and broad, the other short and immensely stocky.

  
“What're yuh here fer, blotching little boy?” the larger of the two brutes asked gruffly, poking his club in Gribly's direction. Lauro gave a start, as if he thought they were about to be assaulted, but Gribly knew better.

  
“I'm here to see the fights,” Gribly said, grinning widely. The men stepped closer to him, dark sneers on their faces.

  
“Yuh got th' pay for that?” inquired the shorter man, in a tone that suggested he strongly doubted the likelihood of such a
 
thing.

  
Gribly simply nodded and produced three shiny gold coins he had acquired courtesy of Dunelord Argoz. “And this is all there is, so don't bother clubbing me, gents... I've nothing more for you to take.”

  
The piggy eyes of the bouncers bugged out in astonishment, and the smaller one licked his lips. “Got more fer yer friend? He ain't talkin' much.”

  
“This'll take care of us both, I'm sure,” Lauro said, stepping up beside Gribly. His voice held just a hint of malice. The bouncers looked the companions up and down, eyed Lauro's steady hand where it rested on his sword hilt, and decided a fight was not worth it.

  
“S'pose it will,” grunted the taller man, reaching for the coins. Gribly tossed the money
 
towards the bouncer, who easily caught all three coins in his huge hand.

  
“C'mon, Lauro,” Gribly called, striding between the two huge men as if he had not a care in the world. Nervously the prince followed him, and they passed out of the alley into a whole new part of Ymeer. “Even the Dunelord's guards know better than to come down here,” he told Lauro, winking.

  
The prince was not impressed. He didn't look quite afraid... just grim. Very grim. “Then why are
we
down here?” he asked in a low voice as they passed several high piles of refuse. A group of rag-clad children, stained with soot and dirt, scampered away from them and hid among the labyrinth of trash heaps.

  
Gribly frowned as memories of his childhood in places like this came back to him. “You and Argoz want a guide, right? Someone who can take you not only past the mountains of the Spiral, but all the way to the Inkwell? Well, hack it all, this is the best place to find one! Don't argue so much.” The sharp intake of breath beside him warned him to push the proud older lad no further, but Lauro's only response was a rather subdued question.

  
“But... the fight pits? Why would any kind of guide be in the business of fighting lowlifes?”

  
As he spoke, Gribly led the way around the burned-out shell of an abandoned slum. There before them was a high palisade of wooden stakes, woven tightly together with cords nearly as thick as the thief's wrist: an impenetrable wall to all weapons and most men.

  
“Look at this, Lauro,” Gribly answered as he led the Wind Strider parallel to the palisade. “Almost a legitimate fortress within the Dunelord's own domain. There's no better place for someone with the skills we need to hide from the Dunelord's service.
You see?!
”
Towards the end, his voice had to be raised for the other boy to hear him. A thunderous volley of frenzied shouting had suddenly erupted from within the wall. “Quick!” he called over the noise, “the fights must be starting for the night! Let's find an entrance and get in to watch!”

~

  
Cramped as he was among the hundred or so dirty bodies surrounding one of the smaller fight pits, Gribly couldn't help but grow excited along with every other urchin, slave, and streets-man. The air of this place was foul, but it seeped into one's blood quicker than wine, dulling the senses and quickening the pulse.

  
This was a place of combat and strife, where the baser instincts of men prevailed. Try as might not to succumb, Gribly
liked
watching the fights. It wasn't war... it was
sport
.
 
He could tell the Lauro felt the same way as he, try to hide it as he might. Glancing to one side, he saw the prince's tightly-drawn face over the head of a short, sour-faced girl who had squeezed between them to watch some minutes before the last duel had ended.

  
“When'll they start the next fight?” grumbled the girl to herself, pushing her matted mess of auburn hair to one side and shivering. Her clothes were threadbare, and the evening was giving way to a cold desert night. The torches being set up around the edges of each pit weren't enough to warm her. Gribly wondered why she was here- this was certainly no place for a woman of any reputation, much less a girl who looked younger than he was.

  
“You have something riding on this fight?” Gribly asked her, offhandedly as he could. “If you've bet on Longstrider, you shouldn't even have to watch. I've seen him before- he's likely the best fighter here.”

  
The girl had ignored him in the beginning, but at his last words she jerked her face upwards at him, eyes wide and face pasty-pale in the dying light. To her side, Lauro finally noticed the conversation and began to watch silently. “Are you
sure
?” the girl asked, biting her lip.

  
She'd seemed unhealthy before- now Gribly thought she looked as if she was about to drop dead on the spot. “Pretty sure,” he said, feeling apprehensive.

  
“Oh Aura,” the girl moaned, turning away from him and hugging herself with skinny arms. The thief saw a glinting tear run down her cheek right before her tangled curtain of hair fell in the way.

  
“Why, did you bet on Shadow?” Gribly asked, a heavy knot in his throat. “He doesn't stand a chance...” The contestants had been announced at the beginning of the fights, and he had just caught their names as he and Lauro entered the rough-and-tumble interior of the fight pit palisade.