Honor Amongst Thieves

Chapter 8 – Footloose



Artemis lay on one of the many rooftops of the city, staring at the stars, trying to remember the names of constellations. As he’d remember them, he’d say them aloud, just so he could hear his own voice break the relative stillness of the night around him.

“The Great Dragon. The Heavenly Rift.”

The pain burning inside. The twisting. Organs shredding.

“The Mansion. Gimble, the Strange Alchemist.”

Flesh dissolving under the flame. His own blood pouring onto the floor.

“The Weeping Maiden. Trynichtia’s Ship.”

The jolts. The uncontrollable spasms. Raven vanishing from view…

“The Cat’s Eye.”

“I’ve always wondered why it’s called that. I’ve never been able to see it, myself,” interjected a new, softer voice into the quiet. Turning, Artemis saw Raven leap over the gap between roofs and walk over to where he was lying. Sitting down beside him with her feet dangling over the edge, she looked down at him and smiled. He smiled back.

“Hey you, I haven’t seen you in a week, ever since I got out of that dungeon.” Artemis’ smile flickered for a moment as he briefly allowed himself to succumb to the emotional horror of what he had been through, but it quickly reasserted itself. Raven spotted it, but did not change her own expression.

“Yes, well, it’s been nothing but work since you left. I’ve avoided the worst punishment, since I did manage to recover the two stones you had on you before you left. He seemed to be more concerned with the recovery of them than you. Still, we’ve had to clear out of the dungeon, since you know where that is.” Raven sighed. “Couple that with all the errands he’s been having us run, I’m kind of exhausted. Enough about what’s going on with me, how are you?”

“Me? I’m fine.” At Raven’s look of skepticism, he revised his statement. “Alright, so emotionally I’m still a little shaken, but I’ll be fine, I swear. Wait, errands?”

“Yeah, getting information, mostly. Following legends. I think it’s crazy, and so do most of us. I mean, we’re thieves, aren’t we? We take things from other people, other living people. Leave the finding of ancient vaults and mythical treasures to those crazy adventuring types.”

Hearing sounds behind him, Artemis glanced back to see both Rumple and Trap walking towards them. They sat down on the other side of him, their faces looking white in the light of the Twins and the stars in the sky. Artemis noticed that Rumple seemed to be wearing a red shirt, which was decidedly odd.

“Hey, Rumple, like the shirt, but I thought you hated red.”

“Oh, I do, but it will be a gift.”

“Ah, ok.”

“Hey, Arty? You wouldn’t by chance happen to have some decent clothes for me, would you? Mine are all dirty and torn, and I don’t want Rane to be disappointed in me,” asked Trap.

“No, but I promise I’ll buy you some.”

“Would you? Thanks. I’d like something in cool colors, I don’t like warm colors, they burn me.”

Turning back to Raven, Artemis saw that she was looking away, at the horizon, where the very beginning of morning glow was beginning to appear.

“You know,” said Artemis, “when I was little, I used to think that sunrise looked like a very slow explosion going on in the ocean. I thought it was amazing; at least until I realized that if the explosion ever got to me it would destroy everything I loved, destroy the world.”

“To destroy, one must first create.” Raven took out the Dryamlan stone that had been inside Artemis. It was still dripping blood. She took out a knife and began to carve at it, heedless of the sparks that shot from it. One spark hit the silver ring she was wearing and it disappeared, the rock glowing all the brighter. She made another slice, and a chunk of the rock broke off. Unhappy with the result, Raven touched the rock with the red gem she had in her hand, and the damage was repaired. Putting the rocks down, Raven again looked to the horizon. Artemis turned to it with her.

“A new day is being made,” said Raven. Artemis looked at her, and blinked.



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The light of dawn was streaming in through the window opposite Artemis’ bed. Artemis blinked again, trying to recall his dream from last night, trying to remember the cause of the foreboding he now felt. As light continued to stream in, he gave up, resigning himself to the idea that it was just another nightmare about the torture he had gone through. Throwing off the covers, Artemis got up and threw on some clothes that looked decently clean. Stretching, he looked out across Tyro one last time, seeing her buildings blood-red in the fiery dawn light. Shaking his head to dispel the morbid thought, he headed out to get some breakfast.





Breakfast was the normal affair in the guild hall. Using the proceeds from collected guild dues, someone had gone out and bought enough bread, cheese, and water to feed everyone currently residing in the hall. Grabbing a few rolls and a small block of cheddar, Artemis headed over to where Jerrie and Rumple were already sitting against the wall in a corner.

“Hey Arty, how’re you this fine morning?” asked Jerrie as Artemis sat down beside him.

“I’m doing alright, I guess. Didn’t sleep too well.”

“Sorry to hear that,” said Rumple. “Any particular reason?”

“It must have been my dream, I guess. You were in it.”

“Hey, no having dreams about my Rumple, she’s mine,” said Jerrie, putting his arms fully around Rumple.

“It wasn’t that kind of dream, stupid,” chuckled Artemis, lightly smacking Jerrie on the back of the head.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not pretty enough for you to dream about?” asked Rumple, haughtily. They all laughed, Artemis included. It was good to be back with friends.

“So what’s the plan for today? Are we on market duty?”

“Nah,” said Jerrie, responding to Artemis. “We dodged the arrow this time. Today we have a vacation day.”

“Great, so what should we do?”

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I want to go see that guy they found out at sea. It’s all the buzz around town,” said Rumple.

“Oh, you mean that crazy little person they found out on the ocean floating on a banana tree, the one who says he’s from another world?” asked Artemis, to clarify.

“Yeah, him.”

“I’m game.”

“Me too,” said Jerrie, who was always willing to do anything, as long as he could stay with Rumple.

“Well, let’s get going then,” said Artemis, then glanced to where Jerrie was now looking. He saw Old Terni looking at him, and as soon as eye contact was made, Artemis knew what he wanted.

“Sorry, guys, looks like Terni wants me to pull a job for him,” said Artemis, apologetically. Jerrie and Rumple nodded their heads understandingly and resumed planning their day as Artemis sauntered over to Old Terni.

“Good to see you’re still here and haven’t run off to see your parents again, Artemis,” said Terni as a means of introduction. That comment stung Artemis more than he’d care to admit. He’d had to stick with the story that Jerrie and Rumple had originally told Terni or risk getting kicked out of the guild, but now Terni thought he was becoming irresponsible. Of course, I am becoming irresponsible, reflected Artemis, careful to keep his expression cheerful.

“No sir, I’m still here, though I might as well tell you now that, with your permission, of course, my parents have invited me to dinner with them in a few days, so that I can meet my sister’s boyfriend.” He knew it was risky this soon, but he had to give Terni warning.

Old Terni sighed, losing the aura of command he had had earlier. “Of course you can go, Artemis. Just remember to tell me from now on, won’t you?” Terni asked, hopefully.

“I will, sir, I promise,” said Artemis, glad that the formal air had dissolved between them. He felt a grin plaster itself on his face.

“In the meantime, however, I have a very unique job for you.” At Artemis’ questioning glance, Terni continued. “We’ve gotten information that one of Manaly’s top thieves has been caught, Huren of the Mist. I see you’ve heard of him.”



Artemis had indeed heard of him. Deaf indeed was the thief, scalawag, or scoundrel who hadn’t. Huren’s name was legendary among the low professions, and his exploits were made into song. It was said that no rope or chain could bind him, and that the only thing he could not steal were souls from the Hells, and even those were open to debate.



“They caught him? Isn’t that a sign of the end of the world?” asked Artemis, jokingly. Terni smiled.

“Well, it hasn’t ended yet, which gives us an opportunity. It turns out a big secret to Huren’s success were the boots he wore. They apparently give the wearer an uncanny ability to step lightly and silently over any kind of ground, even if that ground is trapped or normally impassible. The law was always mystified how he managed to avoid the pressure alarms, and now they know. Supposedly they even got him free from an imprisonment spell.”

“Hmm, nice boots. Lucky him. Where’d we here this from?”

“I went up and talked to a guardsman.”

“Ah, always a good source. How’d they get him, anyway?”

“Woman.”

“Ah. So I assume that we know a location where Huren stashed some of his haul, and you need me to get it?”

“In a way. We know where the boots are.”

“You’re kidding! The guard didn’t impound them?”

“Oh, they did. They’re in the guardhouse somewhere. You are going to go get them.”

Artemis stared.



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'This is not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea.'

Artemis had spent the entire day doing reconnaissance on the guardhouse. This was the job that professional thieves had theoretical discussions about, not a job that anyone was stupid enough to try for real. Around 4 in the evening Artemis returned to the guild hall to get the supplies he needed. Usually Terni would deny thieves access to some of the things Artemis requested, due to replacement price, but usually thieves weren’t breaking into the guardhouse. Artemis returned to outside the guardhouse around 5, loaded down to wage a thieving war, and resumed watching the target. As night fell, lanterns were lit inside, and nearly all the windows glowed yellow. Artemis sighed, steeled himself, and began his work.



The building was too far away from others to allow a rooftop leap to gain access. Even if one could leap to the roof, Artemis hadn’t spied any roof hatches, which were the norm for other buildings in Tyro. That meant the front door, the back door, or a window. The front door was out. He couldn’t sneak into a front room with a clerk looking right at him. He’d get in, but he couldn’t try anything, so getting in that way was pointless. The back was where they housed the guarding and tracking dogs, so there was almost no chance of getting in that way. That meant a window.

Artemis judged the distance and threw the grappling hook over to the guardhouse roof from the roof he was perched on. The hit was muffled by the cloth Artemis had wrapped around the hook, and when he pulled back it hooked on the roof ledge that surrounded the guardhouse roof.

Thank Tahira they still tried to make the place aesthetically pleasing. Making sure he had a secure hold on the rope and that his glove and boot hooks were firmly attached, Artemis took a deep breath, and leaped. There was no going back now.



The wind whistled past his ears for a moment, and then the wall came up to meet him. Using years of practice, Artemis managed to cushion the impact so that, although there was a light thud, he was uninjured and the noise was much less then it could have been. He flattened himself against the wall, digging his toe hooks into the mortar. There he paused, waiting for any sign that his presence had been noticed. When he was satisfied that he was safe he began to inch his way over to the nearest window, which luckily had no light shining from it. Reaching behind him, he grasped one of two vials strapped to his belt. Undoing the stopper, he held it out to the glass pane now blocking his way. As gas started to pour out of the vial he tossed the liquid contents at the pane.



The liquid, which those among the guild jokingly called Pane Remover, was one of the most volatile non-magic substances anyone had ever come across. When exposed to air above five degrees it began to evaporate at an amazing rate. It also, in liquid form, could eat through almost anything put in front of it, as long as it wasn’t magical. It was a thief’s best friend in that it could clear out any obstruction or lock pretty much instantly, and evaporated so quickly that it left no danger to the thief. Unfortunately, it was incredibly expensive to make, and the vials that contained it had to be magically resistant to it and made to stay at below five degrees. That is why it was only rationed out for the most important or dangerous of jobs, such as this one.

As Artemis watched, any piece of glass that the Pane Remover touched appeared to simply cease to be. What was left was a hole he could easily fit through, and no broken edges to slice him, only rough ones. Artemis climbed through into the room, and looked around. He appeared to be in a small barracks, thankfully empty of its occupants. This made sense, as it was common knowledge that the third story, which he had jumped into, housed the soldiers who worked in the guardhouse. Two beds were placed against the walls, and it looked from the unkempt nature of the room that it was occupied by two guards, who most likely were pulling their patrol shift at this time. Pulling out his second trick and holding it in his left hand, Artemis snuck towards the shut door that lead out into what he presumed would be a hallway with similar rooms. Cracking the door, Artemis confirmed his suspicions. Hearing someone approaching from the other side, Artemis tensed, waiting to pounce, holding his breath. As a shadow passed into the light streaming in through the crack in the doorway, Artemis lunged out and, grabbing the back of the uniform of the unfortunate guard, swung him into the room and straight into a wall, stunning him. Quickly shutting the door, Artemis threw himself on top of the still-reeling guard. Sitting upright, he opened the bag that he had clenched in his left hand and poured the blue powder onto the guards face, who immediately began coughing as some of it poured down his throat.



Many attempts had been made by magicians and alchemists to come up with a perfect truth drug. Some had succeeded, but their work was so expensive that only a nation could get the resources to buy some, which was then used on the most serious criminal cased. What Artemis had just used was one of the most botched attempts anyone had ever made. The subject of the dust would truthfully answer one question, to the best of his knowledge, even the implied parts, and then something would happen that was so heinous that few could witness it and not be affected. Luckily, this failure meant that Old Terni had been able to acquire a few ounces of the dust without having to bankrupt himself, although only because he knew the mage that had attempted it. The man continued to cough below Artemis.



“Where are the boots that Huren of the Mist used being kept?”

“Seventh floor, magical impoundment room, far southeast corner, last room, locked until court mage gets here to disenchant them.” The man choked out.



He then went totally rigid. His eyes began to change color rapidly, and where the fuzz of a five o clock shadow had been, whiskers now began to sprout. He began to shrink as fur sprouted from his face and hands. Finally, after about 30 more seconds, the transformation was over, and where there had been a man, there now squirmed a weasel. Artemis chuckled at the irony, as did most who had ever seen it. Picking up the weasel, Artemis listened at the door. Sure that there was no one there, he opened the door and shoved the weasel down the hallway. Hopefully catching a runaway weasel would keep the guards distracted. The change would wear off eventually, though specific times varied, and few people killed weasels in the city, so Artemis didn’t feel too bad. Going back into the room and shutting the door, Artemis stepped out onto the window ledge, looking up at the seventh story windows. Or at least he tried. The seventh story, which of course was the most closely guarded, as it held the magical equipment the guard had, had no windows. That meant going through the sixth story window. It had to be done, because going up four floors of a guardhouse was suicide. Unfortunately, the break-in was going to be loud, as Artemis only had one more vial of Pane Remover, which he was saving for an emergency. The sixth story also happened to be the level that had all the offices of the captains of the guard. Still, there was nothing for it. Spying his rope a few feet away, Artemis made a small jump out into the night and caught onto it easily, just as the first shout of surprise sounded in the hallway outside the room. Scrambling up the rope as lightly as a monkey would, Artemis quickly reached the sixth floor. Not pausing to think about it, so that he didn’t get nervous, Artemis climbed over to the nearest window. Inside he saw what seemed to be a low ranking officer filling out paperwork.



'I’m not a smash-and-grab man. This is not my style of job', Artemis sighed inwardly. Deciding on the best course of action, he climbed above the window, crouching, then extended a toe and quickly smacked it against the window, withdrawing as fast as he dared move. He waited until he heard the window open, and looked down. Sure enough, the officer was looking out, and up at him. As the officer opened his mouth to alert his comrades, Artemis slammed his foot down on the guards face. The man crumpled against the window ledge and fell inward. Climbing down and swinging in, Artemis saw the man lying out on the floor of the room. 'If I was a doctor, I’d say he’s out for at least a half an hour.' Artemis snuck to the door, feeling a vague sense of déjà vu. Pausing momentarily to listen at the door, Artemis walked out into the hallway, thankfully as devoid of people as his ears had told him. However, most of the doors in this hallway were open. Artemis took a deep breath, straightened up as much as he could, and began to confidently walk down the hallway with a normal, slightly noisy, walk. It was an old trick he had learned back before he was even a thief. If someone acts like they belong there, and no one’s paying him much attention, no one will stop him. Surely enough, no one looked up from their paperwork as he rounded the corner and found the stairs leading up. At the top was a metal door, beside which was a young guard, probably a recruit still in their first few years. This may be the most important floor, but officers still don’t want to guard things that they can readily delegate to lower ranks. This young man was clearly confused as to why a man, rather obviously dressed like a thief, was walking up to him boldly. The guard held out his pike somewhat uncertainly.



“Halt,” said the guard, even more clearly confused. “I need to, um, see your clearance before you pass.”

“Ah,” said Artemis holding up his pointer finger in a “wait one moment” gesture. Artemis paused, then slapped away the point of the guard’s pike with his left hand and slammed his right fist into the guard’s face, causing the guard’s head to crack against the stone behind it. Shaking his hand to dismiss the pain, Artemis reached down and got the keys from the unconscious guard’s belt. That was when everything went wrong.



From down below came a loud shout and the sound of running feet. 'That’s why I was never a doctor, never could get a handle on diagnosing.' Hurriedly Artemis found the right key and opened the door, closing it fast behind him as footsteps started ascending the stairs. Dashing over to the southeast corner of the building, he found the door labeled “Magical Impounded Items” and opened it, just as someone at the other end of the corridor opened the door with another key and spotted Artemis go into the room. There was another shout as Artemis shut the door behind him. Glancing around, his gaze was drawn to a familiar object.

There, lying on a desk, all by itself, rested his rapier, the one that had been taken by Lanthander and his goons. Jogging to it, he read the description underneath that read “Boots of Huren of the Mist.” Scribbled underneath were the words, “If you read this, I’m sorry, my love, but I got here first. R.”



Coming to his senses, Artemis quickly grabbed the rapier and shoved it in his belt. Thinking quickly, he whipped the last bottle of Pane Remover and undid the stopper. Standing in the center of the room, he poured it in a circle around him. Smoke rose in front and to the sides of him as the door was flung open. He got a glimpse of an angry captain of the guard before the floor gave way and he fell down to the sixth floor, startling a secretary. Already running, he heard the guards begin to clamber through the hole he had made. An arrow whistled by his head, and he ducked into the nearest room he could find as another passed him. Running to the window, he shoved it open. Looking out, he saw his rope dangling fifteen feet away on the wall. Turning around to run to a closer room, he saw a guard turn the corner and spy him. Resigning himself to fate, he turned back to the window and pushed out into the night towards the rope with all the strength he could muster. He saw the rope come closer, closer, and then it seemed to stop getting closer. Artemis reached with all his might. After falling three stories, one of his glove hooks snagged on the hemp of the rope and jerked taught. Artemis grimaced as he felt his shoulder pulled from its socket, and then he felt the grappling hook slip over the roof. Artemis fell some more, falling through a tree. Luckily that tree was there, or he would have died. Instead he hit the ground hard, but only twisted an ankle. Getting up, driven on by shouts of guards, Artemis gathered the rope in his one good arm and quickly stumbled off into the night, praying to Tahira to keep him safe.





“So you don’t have the boots,” said Old Terni.

“Right,” said Artemis.

“Why don’t you have the boots?”

“They were taken already.”

“How could they have been taken already?!”

“Woman.”

“Ah.”



Artemis turned away to hide his smile. Raven had gotten the better of him, and he knew in some way or another she always would. For now, however, he just congratulated her, and wished he could do it in person.