Home. , Book 1: The Necromancer Thief
After searching for Manras and Dil all afternoon, I returned to the Den empty-handed and feeling as if I had walked Estergat ten times from one end to the other. When I entered the Cat Quarter, I kept my eyes open in case I had the misfortune to run into Swift, but nothing, the streets were quiet, and I reached the Den without incident.
“Ayo, Rolg, I am here!” I cried, pushing open the door.
I stood still as I realized that all three chairs around the table were occupied. Rolg. Korther. And a pale brown human with half his face horribly burned. Yal had seemingly not yet returned.
At the startled look of the three Black Daggers, I put on an apologetic face and swallowed.
“Can I come in?” I said.
Rolg rolled his eyes.
“Sure, son, come on in.”
I hesitated, because honestly I would have preferred the Den not to be so crowded, but I went in anyway, closed the door, and said:
“Ayo.”
Korther smiled, and his devilish eyes smiled too.
“Ayo, lad. We were just about to finish our infusion, don’t worry. How are you getting on?”
“Just fine, and you?” I replied.
Korther arched an eyebrow, amused.
“Couldn’t be better. I don’t think you know Taryo, the famous thief of the Golden Cat. He lives in Taabia, but he came here to visit me.” He raised a hand and in a mocking tone pronounced ceremoniously, “Taryo, let me introduce him to you: this is Draen, our new generation.”
Taryo’s burned face remained expressionless. His dark eyes, however, quickly examined me. He reached out a hand, took his cup, and swallowed all that was left.
“We’ve talked enough,” he declared. “We shall meet again in a moon, Korther. Nice talking with you both.”
I arched an eyebrow and stepped away from the door as Taryo rose and shook hands with Korther and Rolg. When the Burned Face left, Korther gestured for me to sit down, and I sat down, puzzled.
“Actually, I came here to talk with you,” Korther admitted.
I saw Rolg stand up and give me a small, quiet smile before nodding and disappearing into his room, limping and yawning. I turned to the kap of the Estergat Black Daggers and scratched my head.
“And what do you want to talk about?”
“Yal told me you were working for a nobleman. Is that true?”
I frowned.
“It is. But I don’t rob him. He’s a nail-pincher, but I—”
“I know, I know,” Korther interrupted. “I’m not going to ask you to steal from him. This nobleman is a magician, isn’t he? And you go with him to the Conservatory every day.”
“Mm-yeah. He’s a student. In two weeks, classes end and he’ll go home,” I said.
Korther darkened.
“Um. That doesn’t give you much time. But you’re a resourceful boy, and I’m sure you already know the Conservatory layout well, don’t you?”
I opened my eyes wide, finally understanding.
“Am I going to steal something from the Conservatory?”
Korther nodded.
“A diamond. A sort of semi-relic. The reward is good: twenty siatos.”
I was left speechless. That made two thousand nails. And two hundred cheese snacks.
“Where is that diamond?” I asked.
Korther smiled.
“You like to cut to the chase, don’t you? Okay. The diamond is in Yanaler Koscyri’s hands. She’s a teacher… and she’s also the Supreme Magician of the Conservatory. But don’t worry, she doesn’t carry the diamond with her. She probably keeps it in her office. From what I’ve heard, it’s easily recognizable: it has sixteen facets, it’s transparent, and, like I said, it’s a magara. You know how to recognize a magara, don’t you?”
I nodded thoughtfully.
“What do you need that diamond for?”
“Ah…” Korther leaned back in his chair, and his violet eyes twinkled. “Listen, lad. I hire, you steal. You don’t need to know any more for now. You are still very young. When you’re older, if you’re still alive, I might be more explicit with you. But not now.”
He left his seat under my half-jaded, half-stubborn gaze and added:
“Be careful, don’t ask prying questions, and think before you act. If you get caught, not a word about the Black Daggers, of course. The Justice of Estergat may be terrible, but it will never be as terrible as the Justice of the Black Daggers, you understand?” He looked me in the eye with a strange intensity and put something on the table. “In that bag you have wax to make copies of keys and that sort of thing. If you have any doubts or need any materials, tell Rolg. Good luck to you. See you soon, lad.”
He opened the door and walked away, leaving me with a strange feeling in my body. It wasn’t exactly fear, but rather apprehension. Because it was one thing to snatch a few nails from a pocket and another to steal the Wada from the Stock Exchange or a diamond from the Supreme Magician of the Conservatory. The point is, I didn’t want to fall into the hands of the flies.
I stood up and approached the closed door of the old elf’s room.
“Rolg?” I said. “Rolg, why does Korther need a diamond if he has already stolen the Wada?”
I waited silently, convinced that Rolg would not answer me: he never did when he was in his room, as if there was a monolith inside that took him to the other side of the world. This time, however, I heard him say:
“Korther’s not easy to understand, kid.”
The voice sounded very muffled through the door. I bit my cheek, shook my head, and yawned.
“He sure isn’t. Good night, Rolg.”
I lay down, but it was hard to fall asleep, and I heard Yal come home very late, past midnight. I could tell by his smell and hesitant walk that he had been out with friends. So I gave up trying to explain to him the new job Korther had given me, and burying my head in my arms, I finally fell asleep. I dreamed of the yarack. The bird flew over the Rock of Estergat with a shrill cry and dropped a feather, this time a red one. It fell and fell, and I ran through the streets, trying not to lose sight of it. I landed in the Labyrinth and found myself face to face with Warok, who was crouching down at that very moment to pick up the red feather. Once in his hands, it turned into a bloody dagger, and I shouted:
“Yerris! Yerris! Yerris!”
“Draen!”
A hand shook me. I abruptly opened my eyes and found myself facing Yal’s half-asleep face.
“What are you yelling for?” he growled, massaging his head.
I sat up, my heart still racing.
“It’s Yerris!” I stammered. “The Ojisaries killed him.”
Yal stopped massaging his head and looked at me as if I had gone mad.
“What are you talking about? Yerris is gone. He doesn’t—”
“But in my dream…!”
“Dreams are dreams, Mor-eldal,” Yal cut me off with a gasp.
I took the time to think and sighed with relief.
“That is true. But Yerris—”
“Stop worrying about Yerris, sari.”
I looked at him and stifled an offended exclamation.
“You knew! You knew that Yerris was in Estergat and you didn’t tell me.”
Yal frowned.
“You didn’t ask me about him, and I thought learning of his betrayal would do you no good.”
“Yerris didn’t betray anyone!”
Yal grimaced painfully and rubbed his forehead.
“Damn… Yes, he did, sari. He betrayed us. From the beginning, he was a traitor. Let me explain,” he muttered. “Yerris is actually an orphan that the Black Hawk took in to train him from a very young age and infiltrate him into our brotherhood by making him look like a kid without a gang. For three years, Yerris acted as a double agent. Trust me: the Ojisaries won’t hurt him, he’s one of them. What I’d like to know is how it is that you knew about the connections he had with… Mothers of the Light!” He paled and looked at me, suddenly alarmed. “Don’t tell me that scoundrel took you with him to the Labyrinth!”
I looked at him indignantly and jumped to my feet.
“Scoundrel, your mother! Yerris is in danger, Slaryn said so. He’s guilty of nothing. The scoundrel is Warok. And the Black Hawk. Not Yerris.”
Yal gave a grunt. He got to his feet, staggered, fell to his knees in front of the bucket of water, and dipped his head in. He pulled it out dripping with water.
“Much better,” he breathed and stood up, tossing his soaked locks back. His eyes were now fully awake. “Alright, sari. I don’t know where you got the idea that Yerris is in danger, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that were the case: when you play with fire, you end up getting burned, and when you live in the Labyrinth with those kind of people, anything can happen to you. And now, tell me. Are you going to risk your life to help a guy who gave the Ojisaries all the information he could find about our brotherhood? He put us all in danger. I’m not saying it’s his fault: they trained him to spy on us. He probably didn’t even think he was doing anything wrong.”
That was false, I thought. More false than the Invisible Palace. I looked at him with a grim face and blurted out:
“Yerris wanted to be a Black Dagger, a real one, but Warok wouldn’t let him. The Black Cat didn’t want to betray us. He only did because he was afraid…”
I fell silent, for at that moment, Yal took me roughly by the shoulders.
“You knew,” he muttered. “Spirits, you knew!”
He shook me, and stunned as I was, my only reaction was to look at him, wide-eyed. Yal let go of me right away, and agitated, he glanced quickly at the old elf’s door before saying in a low voice:
“Don’t ever mention that gnome again, okay? And don’t try to look for him. The Ojisaries are very dangerous, you understand me? If I catch you entering the Labyrinth, I’m saying goodbye for good, Mor-eldal. Did you hear me?”
His eyes stared at me so intently that I turned mine to the ground.
“Did you hear me?” Yal insisted.
I nodded.
“Yes, Elassar.”
I heard him sigh loudly. Then a bell rang, and he patted me on the shoulder.
“Devils, it’s half past seven already. You’d better hurry up and get to the Harp. Come on, don’t look so downcast. Think of those you call your cronies. They probably need you more than Yerris does. Now, go.”
He smiled at me, but there was a glint of concern in his eyes. I breathed in, and though still disturbed by the conversation, I took my cap, kept the little bag which Korther had given me the day before, put on my coat and boots, and at last said:
“Ayo, Yal, good day.”
I left and ran up the hill; I was crossing the Stone Park when I remembered that I had not bought the newspaper.
“Blasthell,” I muttered.
I turned towards the Central Court, certain to find some newsboy carrying today’s paper of The Estergatese. And, bang, I found Manras and Dil, no more and no less.
“Where have you been!” I exclaimed, as I approached them.
They had settled down at the bottom of the stoop that led to the court. The little dark elf greeted me:
“Ayo, Sharpy! You’re not going with the magician anymore?”
“I am, I am, I am even running late. Is that The Estergatese? Well, give me one. I’ll give you the nails later, I haven’t got any now. Say,” I added as Manras handed me a copy. “Where were you yesterday? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
I saw Dil make a silent face. Manras explained:
“Actually, we had to move to another shelter. Now we live in a real house.”
I frowned.
“In the Labyrinth?”
“Natural,” Manras replied.
“And… with the Black Hawk?” I asked in a low voice.
Manras shook his head.
“No. I hardly ever see my father.” He handed a newspaper to a shopper and picked up the nails before asking me, “Are you going to come this afternoon?”
“Sure,” I said and held up my newspaper. “See you later, guys!”
I ran up Imperial Avenue and arrived at the red mansion a few minutes late, but Miroki Fal always left his room even later, so he didn’t even notice.
“Ayo, sir,” I greeted him when I saw him appear on the stairs. He had taught me that educated people do not say “ayo”. And I had taught him the opposite.
I took his bag of notes and inkwells and followed him to the Conservatory at a good pace. As we passed the main door of the building, the nobleman said to me:
“I’m going to ask her to the prom,” he said, smiling. I didn’t need him to specify who he was talking about: it was Lesabeth, of course. He took out the letter and handed it to me, “Give me that bag and run, I don’t want someone else to ask her the same thing and beat me to it.”
I rolled my eyes and trotted up the stairs to the healers’ wing. I already knew the place inside out, and since I knew the blonde elf’s schedule by heart, I found her in a peace-and-virtue. She was attending a class in an open classroom. The students were few in number, no more than ten, and thankfully so, because the teacher had such a tiny voice that they had to lean towards him around the table to hear him. The Professor of Endarsic Energy was short-sighted, half-deaf, and half-in-the-moon, so he did not even notice my presence. I crept up to Lesabeth and gave her the letter. With a curious twinkle in her eye, the elf took the letter and unfolded it under the table. I was just starting to walk away when she gave me a:
“Psst!”
I turned back with a sigh, and she whispered to me:
“Tell him it’s impossible because I’m already going with my cousin Jarey.”
I sighed again. This was going to spoil Miroki’s day… and a bit mine, too, for I didn’t like her cousin Jarey Edans. Once, in the autumn, he had called me, “You miserable brat!” And, just a few weeks ago, I had run into him, and he had tried to take away the bouquet of flowers intended for Lesabeth. Fortunately, I had good reflexes, and I had scampered away, not without leaving some petals on the way.
The Professor of Endarsic Energy continued his litany in a low, monotonous voice. I walked away and, as usual, wandered through the corridors. This time, however, I had a specific objective: the wing where the magicians resided. I had ventured there more than once, and forbidden entrance or not, I had been wandering around the Conservatory for almost eight moons now and no one had ever told me anything. I was sort of the kid that everyone passed by and no one really saw.
So I walked fearlessly through the corridors, passed the white cat of the Supreme Magician, and stopped to say:
“Meow.”
He didn’t even turn his head: the feline was staring through the glass at the countless rooftops of Estergat. The air was particularly limpid that day, and the forest of the Crypt was clearly visible. I leaned my elbows on the window sill and said:
“You know? One day, I’ll go there, even if Yal says it’s dangerous. There’s probably squirrels there, and not gray ones like the ones in Stone Park. Black and brown squirrels like the ones in the valley.”
The white cat continued to ignore me with absolute smugness. I sighed and reached out a hand to pet him. Unlike most of the cats in my neighborhood, this one would let me pet him, and he even deigned to purr sometimes. I only had to be careful to use my left hand because he didn’t like the other one: the first time, I had touched him, he had started to hiss.
A wizard passed in the corridor, and I waited for him to disappear around a corner before saying:
“Ayo, the cat. Watch the city, I’ll watch your house.”
And, while I’m at it, I’ll steal a diamond from your owner, I thought. I continued down the corridor until I came to what I knew to be the apartments of the Supreme Magician. After making sure that no footsteps could be heard approaching, I touched the door with my right hand in search of spells. Unsurprisingly, I found one on the lock. I would have to deactivate it if I wanted to make a copy of the key. I spent a long time watching its pattern, fearing that I might blunder at any time and unintentionally activate the alarm. Finally, I managed to deactivate it, made a cast with the wax, inserted it in the lock, waited patiently, spun around several times, pricked up my ears, and finally got the cast back… And instead of activating the alarm again, I cast a perceptive spell through the crack in the door. My skill in perception was not very good, and as soon as I hit something, my spell came undone. I only hoped that I had not activated any alarm.
“Be careful, Mor-eldal,” I whispered to myself.
And I reset the alarm on the lock before resuming my daily walk through the corridors: a little visit to the janitor’s dog, a big hello to the cook—who, depending on his mood, would give me a bun, a “get out of here, rascal,” or a plate of delicious broth—and of course, an epic descent down the long, shiny ramp of the entrance hall—I never forgot about that one, it was great fun, and it reminded me of when my master and I used to scream down the snowy slope near the Cave on the sledge he had made for me.
When the eleven bells rang, I was already waiting quietly outside the door of the Nail-pincher’s classroom. I had guessed right: when I told him that Lesabeth would not go to the ball with him, Miroki Fal clapped his hands to his head.
“Ancestral demons!” he exclaimed. And he slammed his fist into the palm of his hand, snarling, “That Jarey Edans…! I’m sure he did it on purpose.”
“Come on, Mir, calm down,” his friend Shudi Fiedman laughed. “It’s only a ball. And Jarey isn’t a suitor: he’s her cousin. And besides, he’s ugly.”
I laughed at the argument, and the three of us walked down the stairs to the exit. Miroki was in no mood for conversation, and in spite of his friend’s wise counsel, he refused to cheer up, and we walked back to the red house in silence. I let him go up the stairs with the slowness of a distressed lover, put the bag on the table, and hurried into the kitchen. I sniffed the air.
“What’s for lunch, Rux?” I said.
The butler smiled that gloomy smile which, with the passage of time, now seemed a little more sympathetic.
“Leek soup for you, kid.”
“It’s okay,” I said, seeing that he was about to get up. “I’ll help myself.”
It was always better to help yourself: Rux, whether he was stingy, short-sighted, or had a meagre appetite, would fill the bowls as if he were feeding a little sparrow. Miroki didn’t complain, but I wasn’t so conformist. So I helped myself to a full bowl and sat down with gusto.
“I don’t have to stay the afternoon, do I?” I asked.
Rux cleared his throat and slid a sheet of paper across the table.
“We have to go shopping.”
I huffed.
“Again? But we already went last week!”
“Things don’t last forever, kid,” the butler replied.
I sighed, and half an hour later, we were already walking down the slope towards the Esplanade Market. I carried two large baskets, Rux another, and he filled them from stall to stall and from shop to shop. At one point, I sensed the movement of a hand in one of my baskets and cried out:
“Hands off, thief!”
I turned to see a figure running out into the crowd, carrying nothing more or less than the package of meat Rux had just bought at the butcher shop. And what’s worse, I recognized him: it was Draen the Swift. Hearing my scream, Rux hurried to me, his eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s going on?”
“Well… I got robbed,” I confessed, embarrassed. “The meat was there, and then, fwoosh, it was gone. I saw someone running out.”
“A hundred thousand demons… What was he like?” he inquired.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know, sir.”
Rux frowned even more and sighed.
“Well, this won’t please Mr. Fal at all. I’ll go and buy some more meat. And you, be careful not to have anything else stolen, or I might well think you are in league with the thieves, hmm?”
His insinuation hurt me, and I looked at him grimly as he walked away to the butcher shop. I sat with my back to the wall with my two baskets and watched my surroundings warily. If ever Swift dared to show himself… But he did not show himself, fortunately for him, and I thought with a sigh that he was probably busy eating the meat.
After the shopping, Rux made me shell all the beans he had bought, and it was not until about four o’clock that I managed to get away before he gave me another task, and I made my way to the press office. By that time, the evening paper was about to be distributed, and Manras and Dil would surely be there. I found them, saw their abnormally messy clothes and strained faces, and gasped in shock.
“Cronies!” I called to them. “What happened to you?”
I joined them, and Manras passed his sleeve over his eyes.
“Thunders, what are you crying for, shyur?” I worried.
Since Dil rarely explained things, it was the little dark elf who finally answered in a trembling voice:
“They set us up. And they pushed us around. And they called us names.”
I was outraged.
“Who did?” Before he answered, I said, “My namesake?”
Manras nodded, and Dil stated darkly:
“And others. We were near the Esplanade, and they came straight for us. Swift says he lost two friends because of Warok.”
Manras added:
“He told us to tell my brother that, if he stumbles upon him in the Labyrinth, he will cut his throat.”
I was boiling with indignation. If I could have hissed like the cats, I would have done so. Hadn’t I warned Swift that, if he touched my friends, I’d rip his bones out? Well, I wasn’t going to rip his bones out, but I was definitely going to do something about it.
Seeing the attentive faces of my friends, I looked determined and finally said:
“You guys don’t tell Warok. Swift doesn’t know who he’s messing with. Warok is dangerous, he could hurt him. I’ll go talk to my namesake,” I decided. “I’ll make it clear to him. Just tell me one thing, shyurs: in that new house you moved to, are there other people living there besides you and Warok?”
Manras shrugged.
“Natural. There’s people.”
“How many?”
“Well… yesterday, I saw some, I don’t know how many.”
“Five? Ten?” I ventured.
“Six,” Dil said.
Six. Oh, dear.
“Are they armed?”
Dil nodded silently as Manras looked at me strangely and bit his fingers.
“And… was there a black half-gnome among them?”
Both of them shook their heads. I didn’t know if I should feel relieved or just the opposite.
“Can you show me where the house is?”
Manras nodded.
“Yeah, but my brother said he doesn’t want visitors, so you can’t come in.”
“I won’t go in. I just want to see the house without your brother seeing me. You know what? I’m going to go find Swift and explain things clearly to him. Whether I find him or not, I’ll see you in the Evening Park at ten o’clock, it runs? And you show me the way to the house.”
Manras agreed, mouth agape.
“What are you going to say to Swift?”
I smiled and gently tugged on his cap.
“That no one is allowed to touch my friends, and I’ll prove it to him,” I affirmed. “Ayo.”
“Ayo, but be careful, Sharpy, he’s taller than you!” Manras said.
“So what, even if he was twenty meters tall, I don’t care!” I replied.
I left, going uphill. I wandered around for a while on the Esplanade before I got tired and went back to the Cat Quarter. I entered the Den and called Rolg. There was no answer. I left the small bag with the cast of the Supreme Magician’s key and went out. I startled and smiled when I saw Rolg appear at the mouth of the alley.
“Rolg! I left the cast on the table; shall I take it somewhere?”
The old elf limped over and shook his head.
“Don’t worry, son, I’ll take care of it. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll give you the key. It’ll be ready. Where are you going?”
“Selling papers. I haven’t got a nail left. If I’m late, tell Yal not to worry.”
Rolg arched an eyebrow and nodded.
“Careful with what you’re doing, kid.”
I nodded vigorously and left. I sold newspapers for two hours before I found Manras and Dil coming out of a tavern in Riskel again. I joined them, and we did the taverns all along the street: I carried the papers while Manras entered the place with the “last” copy and sold it with a Benevolent Spirit look. It was already several hours after dark when we decided that we had sold enough, took the remaining papers back to the office, and headed for the Cats. This time, it was not I who was leading, but they. We entered the Labyrinth, they led me through narrow corridors, up stairs, across terraces full of junk, then down a ladder before Manras stopped and took me by the sleeve.
“That’s the house.”
He was showing me one door among many in a deserted passage.
“It doesn’t look like it, but it’s big, and there are even places Dil and I aren’t allowed to go,” he revealed in a low voice.
I turned towards him in the darkness. Up in the sky, the Moon was shining, but its rays were very faint, and one could hardly make out the shapes of the objects around.
“Secret places?” I muttered. “And you didn’t go and look, not even out of curiosity?”
“My brother will wring my ears off if I do that,” Manras whispered, and he added, “Say, you’d better not stay here, or they’ll catch you.”
I nodded and pushed them both out into the corridor.
“Have a nice day, shyurs.”
Manras moved away, but Dil hesitated and asked in a whisper:
“Sharpy… who’s the black semi-gnome?”
I pouted and replied even more quietly:
“A friend of mine who used to work for the Black Hawk. I think Warok played a dirty trick on him. He’s been missing for two moons.”
Dil hesitated for a few more seconds before walking away, muttering:
“Good night, Sharpy.”
I pressed myself against the wall as the door to the shelter opened, illuminating the corridor. My two companions entered, and the alley was darkened. After a few moments, I approached with discretion and listened. I heard voices, and bravely stuck my ear against the door.
“… a misery!” a voice hissed.
“It’s not our fault, we were robbed!” Manras exclaimed.
I heard a thump and a groan, and I turned pale.
“Enough of the cheap excuses! You know what? Forget about the papers. Starting tomorrow, you’re staying here, and you’re going to work for real. You’ll see, you incompetent brats.”
I heard a burst of laughter.
“Say, boy, you’re not going to put your own brother in the well, are you?”
“What do you take me for, you scoundrel?”
“Hey. For what you are: the Black Hawk’s favorite son. You didn’t mind putting the gnome in there—”
“Shut the hell up, Lof!”
He said something more, but at that moment, I heard a bark, and I leapt away from the door. Dogs were approaching in the alley, led by a tall figure. I took off running, and the barking increased. I climbed a gutter as fast as I could and heard a scream below. The door swung open and a lantern lit up the corridor. I subtly shrouded my face in shadows and climbed on. This house was very high. If I fell I would die instantly.
“Stop! Come down from there, four-legged spider!” a voice shouted from below.
“Shut your damn dogs up, Adoya!” Warok bellowed.
Their voices became imprecise and I finally reached the top. It was a terrace, not a roof. I looked down. There was nothing to be seen. I took a few steps back from the edge and glanced at the buildings on the rock. One good thing about the Labyrinth was that most of the houses touched each other, so I walked from terrace to terrace and roof to roof without touching the ground even once to get out of the heart of the Cats. After I had got back to the ground, I walked very carefully and did not relax until I came to the dead end of the Den; and even then, the thoughts that came to me were of no comfort.
The well, Warok said. What well? Where had he put Yerris? And what were my two best comrades going to do now?
“Blasthell,” I let out.
I should have given them the nails I had, maybe then Warok wouldn’t have been so angry. But I hadn’t thought of that.
“Blasthell,” I repeated.
I went up the stairs and pushed the door open silently. Everything was dark. Yal was asleep. I took off my cap, boots, and coat, and lay down quietly. Before I closed my eyes, I let out once again a quiet:
“Blasthell.”