The Magicians' Guild

A wailing began as a few of the children began to cry. Cery grabbed her sleeve and tugged it.

'I am telling you the truth,' the old merchant replied. 'I have no idea who they are, but they are always children -'

'Do you know what the penalty is for hiding enemies of the Guild, old man?' the magician snapped. 'If you do not show me where you have hidden this girl I will have your house taken down, stone by stone, and -'

'Sonea,' Cery whispered.

She turned to stare at him. He beckoned urgently, then began edging across the roof. Sonea forced her arms and legs to move, following.

She dared not slide too quickly, afraid the magician would hear her. The end of the roof drew slowly closer. Reaching it, Sonea looked back to find that Cery had disappeared. Catching a fleeting movement, she saw a pair of hands grasping the guttering below her.

'Sonea,' he hissed. 'You've got to get down here with me.'

Slowly, she bent her legs and slid down until she was lying along the gutter. Looking over the edge, she saw that Cery was hanging two stories from the ground. He nodded to a single-story house built close to the merchant's home.

'We're going there,' he told her. 'Watch me, then do what I do.'

Reaching out to the wall, Cery grasped hold of a pipe that ran from the gutter, down the wall to the ground. As he let it take his entire weight the pipe creaked alarmingly, but Cery scurried down quickly, using the clamps that attached it to the wall as a ladder. He stepped across to the other roof, then looked up and beckoned to her.

Taking a deep breath, Sonea grasped the gutter and let herself roll off the roof. She hung for a moment, her hands protesting, then reached out to grasp the pipe. Climbing down as quickly as she could, she stepped onto the roof of the other house.

Cery grinned. 'Easy?'

She rubbed her fingers, which were red from the sharp edge of the clamps, and shrugged. 'Yes and no.'

'Come on. Let's get away from here.'

They carefully picked their way across the roof, bracing themselves against the bitterly cold wind. Reaching the neighboring house, they climbed up onto its roof. From there, they slid down another drainage pipe into a narrow alley between the houses.

Putting a finger to his lips, Cery started along the alley. He stopped halfway along and, after glancing behind to check that they were still alone, lifted a small grille in the side of a wall. He dropped to his belly and quickly wiggled through. Sonea followed.

They paused to rest in the darkness. Slowly her eyes adjusted until she could see the walls of a narrow brick passage. Cery was staring into the darkness, toward Norin's house.

'Poor Norin,' Sonea whispered. 'What will happen to him?'

'I don't know, but it sounds bad.'

Sonea felt a pang of guilt. 'All because of me.'

He turned to stare at her.

'No,' he growled. 'Because of the magicians - and whoever betrayed us.' He scowled back down the passage. 'I'd go back and find out who it was, but I've got to get you somewhere safe.'

Looking at him closely, she saw a hardness in his expression that she had never seen before. Without him she would have been captured days ago, would probably be dead.

She needed him, but what was it going to cost him to help her? He had already promised or used owed favors for her and he risked the disapproval of the Thieves by using the tunnels.

And what if she was found by the magicians? If Norin suffered the ruin of his house for being suspected of hiding her, what would the magicians do to Cery? 'Do you know what the penalty is for hiding enemies of the Guild, old man?' She shivered and caught his arm.

'Make me a promise, Cery.'

He turned to stare at her, eyes wide. 'A promise?'

She nodded. 'Promise that, if they ever catch us, you'll pretend that you don't know me.' He opened his mouth to protest, but she did not wait for him to speak. 'If they do see that you're helping me, then run away. Don't let them catch you as well.'

He shook his head. 'Sonea, I wouldn't -'

'Just say you will. I... I couldn't bear it if they killed you because of me.'

Cery's eyes widened, then he placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

'They won't catch you,' he told her. 'And even if they do, I'll get you back. I promise you that.'

Chapter 6 Underground Encounters

The sign on the bolhouse read: The Bold Knife. Not an encouraging name, but a quick look inside had revealed a quiet room. Unlike the occupants of all the other bolhouses Dannyl had entered, the customers were subdued and talked in low voices.

Pushing open the door, he stepped inside. A few of the drinkers looked his way, but most ignored him. This, too, was a welcome change. He felt a twinge of uneasiness. Why was this place so different from the others he had visited?

He had never entered a bolhouse until this day, and had never wanted to, but the guard he had sent to find the Thieves had given him specific instructions: go to a bolhouse, tell the owner who you wanted to talk to, and pay the fee when a guide appeared. That, apparently, was the way it was done.

Of course, he couldn't walk into a bolhouse dressed in robes and expect the sort of cooperation he needed, so he had disobeyed his peers and changed into the plain garb of a merchant.

He had chosen his disguise carefully. No amount of dressing down was going to hide his unusual height, obvious health and cultured voice. The story he had invented told a tale of unlucky investment and bad debts. Nobody would loan him money. The Thieves were a last resort. A merchant in that situation would be as out of his depth as Dannyl was, though a great deal more frightened.

Taking a deep breath, Dannyl made his way across the room to the serving bench. The server was a thin man with high cheekbones and a grim expression. Streaks of gray ran through his black hair. He regarded Dannyl with hard eyes.

'What will it be?'

'A drink.'

The man took a wooden mug and filled it from one of the casks behind the bench. Dannyl took a copper and silver coin from his purse. Hiding the silver, he dropped the copper into the man's outstretched hand.

'You'll be after a knife then?' the server asked in a quiet voice.

Dannyl looked at the man in surprise.

The server smiled grimly. 'What else would you be at The Bold Knife for, then? You done this before?'

Dannyl shook his head, thinking quickly. By the man's tone, it seemed he should want some secrecy in the acquiring of this 'knife.' There was no law against owning blades, so 'knife' must be a word used for an illegal object - or service. He had no idea what it might be, but this man had already indicated he was expecting shady dealings and that seemed as good a start as any.

'I don't want a knife.' Dannyl gave the man a nervous smile. 'I want to contact the Thieves.'

The man's brows rose. 'Oh?' He narrowed his eyes at Dannyl. 'It takes a bit of color to get them interested in talking, you know.'

Dannyl opened his hand to reveal the silver coin, then closed his fingers again as the server reached for it.