Chapter 6
Chapter six
Hunted
“You want what?” Garrick’s voice boomed, filling the small office.
“A map of the Citadel Catacombs?” Garrick’s glare made me turn my statement into a question at the last moment. The words sounded ridiculous as they exited my mouth.
“I certainly hope you want it out of morbid curiosity, because going in there is pure madness. Have you gone mad, boy?”
“No.” I looked down at my feet. “But I still want it.”
“But why?”
“I hoped perhaps you could do this for me, no questions asked.” I peeked up to gauge his reaction. “After all we’ve done for each other, consider it a favor.”
Garrick’s stare was unwavering. “I personally know people who went into the catacombs and didn’t return.”
“Which is why I need your help.”
Garrick let out a long sigh, running his hand through his beard. “Please don’t get yourself killed. You’re my best thief, and…” He paused for a long moment and then looked down at the ground. “I like you too much.”
“Thank you, Garrick,” I said, giving the words the weight they deserved. This was a big favor. “And for the record, staying alive is always top of mind.”
Garrick huffed out a sad laugh. “Let me see what I can scrounge up.”
He headed to the back door of his office and gestured for me to follow.
The door opened onto a narrow room, the opposite of the Spartan office in nearly every way. Shelves and cabinets lined every square inch of the walls; there was barely room to navigate. Books, scrolls, and etched tablets covered every horizontal surface.
In all my years working for Garrick, I had only caught glimpses of this room, but today he led me right in without hesitation. I paused in the doorway. Entering felt like an invasion of privacy.
“Come along, Cas. It’s time you see how my brain works.” Garrick raised his hands, gesturing to the endless piles. “But don’t touch anything. I’ve organized everything exactly as I want it.”
That was hard to believe, since everything seemed entirely haphazard, as if a strong wind had stirred it all up. Nonetheless, I followed him, taking each step with care, being sure not to disturb a thing.
Garrick approached a long row of cabinets with countless drawers, each with a small label embedded in a frame, arranged alphabetically.
He ran his finger along the drawers, stopping at the letter c.
He opened a drawer filled with parchments and scrolls, carefully leafed through the contents, and pulled out a yellowed parchment covered with dark lines—a map of the Citadel Catacombs.
There were hundreds of passageways crisscrossing the page. It was literally a maze.
“This is both valuable and fragile. Be very careful with it,” Garrick said with a stern look.
“I only need to look at it for a moment,” I said as I gently set it on a small table in the middle of the room. Despite the frayed edges and darkened surface, the parchment was surprisingly sturdy.
I scanned the document and imprinted it on my memory. My head buzzed with the myriad of lines and angles. The entrance to the catacombs from the Underworld Market was just where I remembered it being on my previous visits when I was a child.
With my eyes closed, I could literally see the lines of the crypt forming in my mind as the passageways etched themselves into my memory. I could visit each dead end and pass every crossroad.
“Got it,” I said, rolling up the parchment and handing it back to Garrick.
“I’ll never understand how you do that,” Garrick said, shaking his head.
“It’s like an artist draws a picture in my mind.”
“And you don’t believe in magic.” Garrick laughed. “But you’re sure you don’t need to keep it for a while? Sometimes memory can falter under pressure.”
“I’m good,” I said. “Thank you again, Garrick. I should get going.”
“One last thing,” Garrick said. “Let’s sit at my desk.”
I flinched. Good things rarely came from a sit at my desk talk. I followed him back into the office, feeling like a child about to be punished.
He peered at me over his desk. “Earlier this evening, two Royal Guards came into the bar, asking questions about the Leonom break-in. They were with a Sentinel.”
A Sentinel—one of King Tarnasau’s elite enforcers. That word chilled me to the bone. Nothing good came from them. Sentinels didn’t patrol. They hunted.
“Why in all the hells was a Sentinel here?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The guards were roughing people up, trying to get answers. I heard they visited several other taverns after ours, so I don’t think they were targeting us specifically. But you’re sure no one recognized you last night, right?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said.
Garrick’s eyes narrowed as he considered my answer for an uncomfortably long time.
Guilt batted at my insides. I had lied about the golden-eyed thief, and that lie was coming back to bite Garrick.
And now I was doing it again. But revealing my invitation to the Emberlight Trials would likely disqualify me from the organization.
If there was one thing people knew about the Order of Emberlight, it was that they valued secrecy above all else.
But I couldn’t stand the guilt. I opened my mouth to tell Garrick what had really happened that night, but he nodded before I could get a word out.
“Very well. Even so, it’s best for you to keep a low profile. Let’s wait a bit before your next job. Maybe stay clear of the tavern for a couple of weeks until things cool down?”
I nearly blurted out no. I needed these jobs, both for the money and for my sanity. But I could hardly justify arguing when I wasn’t being entirely truthful with him. So instead I nodded and turned for the exit before I could say something I regretted.
“Be safe, Cas,” Garrick said.
I looked back one last time. His expression was caring and earnest.
“I’ll try my best,” I replied as I walked through the door.
While I ached to discover the next link in the Order of Emberlight’s chain of riddles, it was too late to enter the twisting labyrinth of the Citadel Catacombs tonight. I was tired and a little upset about Garrick’s rebuke, and the first hints of dawn would color the sky in just a few scant hours.
As I walked the back alleyways of the Wharf District, my head was a jumble of thoughts. What were Sentinels doing tracking down the thief of a single bag of gold? Surely they were searching for the book instead. So what made it so valuable?
Maybe it was paranoia and my overactive mind, but I had an overwhelming sense of being followed as I walked.
Nothing concrete, just a slight shift in the air—some subtle cue that was barely perceptible but undeniably there.
I gritted my teeth, trying not to overreact.
The first rule when you suspect you’re being followed is not to let your potential pursuer know you’re aware of them.
Without turning my head, I scanned the dark corners of the street with my peripheral vision.
A shape in the shadows was darker than the surrounding area.
And then that shape moved.
I forced my breath to remain steady. The road turned just a few feet ahead. I kept my pace even, revealing nothing. The delicate sound of footfalls echoed behind me, maybe twenty paces away. My senses sharpened, letting my instinct guide me.
The moment I turned the corner and was out of sight, I broke into a sprint, hoping the slight advantage would be enough.
The light footfalls behind me turned into the loud clomping of boots on stone, all stealth abandoned.
Up ahead, the narrow alley opened into a courtyard.
A waist-high fountain dominated the center, its stone rim slick with spray.
Five roads radiated outward like spokes on a wheel.
I reached for the smoke vial on my belt and slipped it out with the ease of a task done a hundred times. As I entered the courtyard, I threw the vial behind me, smashing it on the cobblestones, sending up a massive cloud of smoke in my wake.
With only a moment to act, I scanned the roads radiating out from the center of the courtyard.
Some were dark and narrow, offering ample opportunities to hide.
The road directly across the courtyard was the major thoroughfare, wide and bright.
Only a fool would choose that direction. It was the perfect way to go.
I sprinted for the central fountain and leapt off the rim, landing on the other side.
In fewer than two beats of my pounding heart, I was racing down the main road.
Without a moment to spare, I dove behind a barrel.
It was scant protection. If my pursuer chose this road, they would see me immediately.
Racing footfalls echoed through the courtyard and then stopped, followed by deep breaths and a noise resembling the snarl of a wild beast. I froze, every muscle locked. I held my breath, hoping my gamble paid off.
Heavy breathing and clomping feet headed in my direction. Whatever it was, it was close—too close. Goose bumps prickled along my arms as coldness descended around me. This was no natural cold. It permeated my core, sending ripples of chill radiating outward.
The urge to peek over the barrel was nearly overwhelming.
Then a familiar scent hit me: ozone mixed with sharp citrus. It was the same scent the golden-eyed thief had left behind when he’d disappeared into thin air. But the feeling tonight was different—colder and harsher. Unforgiving. Wild.
Footfalls echoed through the courtyard, getting louder. My breath puffed out in fleeting mists as the temperature turned bitterly cold. I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering. Whatever was in the courtyard let out a long breath, like the snort of a hooved beast. It was nearly upon me.
A crashing sound and the wail of a cat came from the courtyard.
The footfalls stopped, then raced away toward the noise.
The relief from the cold was instant, and my galloping heart slowed.
As the footfalls faded away, I peeked over the barrel.
A tall figure wrapped in a black cloak with an inhuman fluidity disappeared into the leftmost dark alley—my second choice for escape.
I let out a long stuttering breath.
Only when it had been silent for several moments did I dare move again.
Even then, I took each step with care, keeping to the shadows.
I turned down the first alley, then turned twice more, weaving through the back streets, putting more distance between myself and…
whatever that creature was. Only then did I scale a drainpipe and make my way along the rooftops of Analon.
The night was clear, and starlight shone off the buildings of the Wharf District and Analon Bay beyond.
A gust of air carried the briny scent of the sea.
I perched on the top of a tall roof to clear my mind.
No human moved like that figure had. And the smell—it was the same scent I’d detected in the study and at the Bleeding Oak, but it couldn’t have felt more different.
Was all of this connected to the book? What a colossal mistake it had been to let it go without knowing what I was giving up.
But regret solved nothing. My only path forward was to solve the Order of Emberlight’s chain of riddles and hope that it would end with answers. Tomorrow night, the Underworld Market and the Citadel Catacombs awaited.
With the plan fixed in my mind, I sprang up and danced across the rooftops, hopping from building to building until I neared my home.
Even though I was certain I wasn’t being followed anymore, I still approached the barn with care.
I paused at the crossroads near it; all was quiet.
No beast or human stirred in the early morning darkness.
But when I made my way to the front door, my heart lurched.
There, drawn in black charcoal next to the entrance, were two twisted snakes forming an o and an e.