The Blood Sigil (The Sigilord Chronicles Book 2) (24 page)

Goodwyn winced a little as she used the word
ragtag
, the same word he had used earlier to refer to the group. He had to admit, they continuously surprised him with their ingenuity.
 

"D-d-dig in!" Spider shouted, and plopped down in front of the pies, his gaze still intent on the blueberry. Reaching into his shirt sleeves, he produced five knives—all gleaming, polished silver.

"Surely someone's going to miss the silver," Therren said, not masking the hint of disapproval in his voice.

"We put the silver back into the kitchens," Ferret explained, skewering a piece of rare beef. "Nobody ever notices."

"Are you going to give us a lecture about stealing, or are you going to eat?" Owl asked.

Goodwyn needed no further prodding. He grabbed a piece of meat and stuffed it into a roll.

"Want to say the prayer, Spider?" Owl asked, flashing him a big grin.

Spider nodded vigorously enough he almost hit his head on the box. Ferret and Owl put down their food and waited with a level of patience unknown to most adults as Spider stuttered and stammered his way through a prayer to the God of Thieves and Protector of the Homeless—likely a deity of their own invention.
 

Without hint of frustration or boredom, they let their companion finish. At the climax of the prayer, which extolled the virtues of unlocked doors and unguarded storehouses, Spider laughed, stabbed his blueberry pie with his fork, and dove into the meal with unbridled enthusiasm.

Goodwyn couldn't help but smile.
 

This is family
, he thought. He missed his parents, who he assumed had died along with the rest of Kest. He missed Urus, who once had the same light in his eyes as Spider, enjoying the little things despite the atrocities around him. It had been a long time since either he or Urus had smiled like that, and he wondered if either of them ever would again.

"You okay?" Owl asked.

"Me? Sure," Goodwyn said.

"Your mind isn't here," she said. "Back home in the desert, away from the cold and snow?"

"There's no home left in the desert." Goodwyn went to peer out the window at the torchlit streets below.

Therren tried to comfort him, but Goodwyn waved him back to the box-table with the others.

The last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep, still leaning against the wall, was the sight of Spider—his face covered in blueberry filling—starting a fire in the fireplace.

He awoke with an ache in his neck and Therren nudging him.

"It's almost dawn," he said. "We should go while we can still use the cover of night."

They smothered the fire and gathered their things. Goodwyn scanned the area for the silver platter and forks.

"Ferret already returned 'em," Owl said, answering before Goodwyn got a chance to ask. She stood at the window, observing everything inside and out.

In response to his name, Ferret scrambled up to the window, opened it a crack, and searched the streets below.

"All clear," he said, then slithered out through the window.

"You sure?" Owl asked.

"Not a sign of anyone in any direction," said Ferret. "Nobody carrying torches like the scarabs were earlier."

One by one they clambered out the window. Goodwyn shook his head, still not used to seeing snow on the ground, though it did look beautiful as it reflected the moonlight.

"Watch Ferret," Owl said, letting the slender boy pass. "He'll show you how to time the jump to get from the wheel to the street."

Ferret swung out onto the waterwheel and stood, his knees bent, keeping his balance with his arms out to his side. His weight pushed the wheel so it spun down toward the water. Ferret crouched deeper, then sprang off the wheel, jumping for the cobblestoned road that ran alongside the gristmill. When he landed, he rolled to the side.

Owl went next, deftly mimicking Ferret's moves, and made it out onto the road easily. She waved Goodwyn on.
 

Goodwyn had no trouble making it to the street.

Owl leaned close to Goodwyn, stretched up on the tips of her toes, and whispered, "You may have to help catch Spider."

As expected, Spider timed his jump perfectly but couldn't get high enough. Goodwyn stretched out and grabbed him with both arms.
 

"Gotcha," he said.

"Th-th-th," Spider stammered.

"Don't mention it," Goodwyn said just as Therren made his jump.

"Lead us to the inn, then," Therren said. "We've wasted enough time as it is and need to reach our commander."

"We should stick to side streets and alleys, just to be safe," said Owl.

Owl led them on a long, meandering route through that section of the city, ducking into alleys and taking to the rooftops of smaller buildings to avoid treading on a main avenue. Eventually they dropped down from a roof, scampered along one more alley, and stopped within sight of the Maelstrom Inn.

"Ferret," Owl ordered. "Go check it out."

Without a word Ferret sidled out of the alley and disappeared down a road heading away from the Maelstrom. Goodwyn thought he caught a glimpse of the boy once or twice, but otherwise Ferret seemed remarkably good at getting around unseen.

Ferret returned some time later, as the night sky brightened with the approaching dawn.

"Please tell me you didn't find anyone lurking out there," Goodwyn said.

"There's no one waiting around who shouldn't be," Ferret said. "Common room has two drunks who fell asleep at their tables, and everything else looks pretty normal, if you consider an inn that costs a month's wages per night to be normal."

"Come with us," Therren said. "You can spend some time in real beds for a change."

Three of the self-proclaimed best thieves in the city looked at each other, their eyes wide. They probably couldn't remember the last time they had spent a night without shivering under a stack of torn and moth-eaten blankets.

"Fancy really isn't our thing," Owl said with as much feigned restrained as she could muster. "You saw how well we do on our own. Anytime we want, we can have a feast fit for the king himself."

Spider and Ferret appeared far less convincing. Goodwyn had to resist the urge to laugh out loud.

"We insist," he said.

"Well, if you insist," said Owl, ducking out of the alley and heading for the inn. Goodwyn and Therren had to jog to keep up with her.

The three kids gathered outside the inn and filed in through the front door behind Goodwyn and Therren. Goodwyn found the proprietor wiping down a counter in the common room, his apron smothered with a multicolored palette of stains.

"Have you seen the commander?" asked Goodwyn.

The man struggled to meet Goodwyn's gaze, but he was no better at disguising his fear and loathing than were his staff. "No, sir, but a messenger from the king's court left word that he was detained on business, and that you were to await his return here."
 

The man tried his best to sound official but Goodwyn heard the crack in his voice, the fear shaking in his throat.

"A messenger from the king's court?" Ferret said. "Fancy."

The proprietor surveyed his common room. The two drunks who had fallen asleep were now wide awake, gawking at the pair of Kestians.
 

"Sirs, if you wouldn't mind retiring to your room, I can have my woman bring up anything you and your friends might need," the man said.

Goodwyn's brow furrowed and he held back the desire to punch the little weasel in the face. Instead, he wondered how Aegaz would handle the situation.

"In other words, we are offending your other guests," Therren said, responding before Goodwyn got a chance.

"Why no, of course not, that's not it at all. I'm just expecting more guests this morning, and I'm sure you've had a long night and would like to enjoy the comfort of your room and not this smelly, crowded common room," the man lied with conviction.

Devils in the lobby must be bad for business
, Goodwyn thought.
I can't wait to be done with this city.
At least he had friends back in Waldron, and they didn't ogle Kestians as though they were demons.

Owl and the others disappeared past the top of the stairs before Goodwyn and Therren could even show them to the room.

"You don't even know which room it is," Goodwyn called after them.

"We'll find it!" Ferret shouted back, accepting the challenge.

A thought hit him in that moment, tugging at his heart. He didn't want any of the kids to leave. At some point, he and Therren would go with Aegaz to tell Commander Jols what they had found on Findanar, and Niragan's most notorious gang of thieves would return to their hidden lair.

He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed the loud thumping noises coming from their room at the end of the hall.

Therren grabbed his arm, and the two exchange a worried look.

Goodwyn drew his suzur, Therren his sword, and they ran for their chambers.

They found the door open just a hair, nothing but darkness visible through the crack.

Did something happen, or did they just pick the lock?
Goodwyn wondered. "Owl, Spider, Ferret…anyone there?" he called.

"Told you we'd find your room," came Ferret's reply.

With a sigh of relief, Goodwyn pushed through the door.

He hadn't taken more than two steps into the room when an axe whirled past his nose, close enough that he could smell the iron in the blade.
 

The room erupted in torchlight as a wall sconce was lit, revealing two scarabs standing by the window. One held Owl prisoner, his arm around her neck, while the other stood over Ferret and Spider, both of whom had already been bound with rope.

Goodwyn dropped to the floor and rolled toward the beds.
 

Pretty foolish
, Goodwyn thought, noticing that the scarab standing behind the two kneeling children had left his entire torso exposed. He uncoiled the suzur and whipped it forward. With a
crack
the chain wrapped around the first scarab's waist. Goodwyn yanked on the chain with all his strength as Therren leapt over it, slamming into the other scarab still holding Owl.
 

The scarab wasn't wielding a blade
, Goodwyn thought.
Another foolish mistake
. Not wielding a blade meant Therren could tackle the scarab without fear of what might happen to Owl.
 

As the suzur coiled inward, digging through the scarab's flesh, Therren quickly snapped the other scarab's neck. The whole encounter was over in just a few blinks of an eye, but Goodwyn's heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through him and taking control of his body.

Ferret stumbled up and away from the bleeding scarab, tugging Spider with him. They took cover on the other side of the bed. Owl, already crying, shoved the body of her scarab captor away and ran to hide with the others.

Goodwyn stood over the dying scarab and instantly recognized his face.

"Greetings,
Brother
Zeol," he said. The two intruders in their room had been the same two religious zealots who had confronted them the day before with their nonsense rhetoric about evil demons from the desert.

"Where is our commander?" Therren demanded, pressing his boot deep into the open wound caused by the wrapped suzur.

"We…" The scarab coughed and sputtered. "We have your commander, and you demons will all share his fate!"

"What fate is that?" Goodwyn yelled. "Where is Commander Aegaz?"

"Die, unholy creature!" taunted Brother Zeol.

Therren kicked the man's throat, crushing his windpipe. "Not today," he said.

Goodwyn pulled the suzur free—a task made more difficult because he had to dislodge the blades from the scarab's purple armor plates—and wiped off as much of the blood as he could. As he retrieved his weapon, the only sound in the room was that of the children sobbing.

He walked around the bed to find them all huddled in the opposite corner, hugging each other tight.

"You almost got us killed," Owl shouted, tears streaming from her eyes.

Goodwyn wiped the remainder of the blood from his suzur with one of the scarab's cloaks. "I am truly sorry for that," he said. "I honestly had no idea this would happen."

"I thought you had witchy powers," Owl cried. "You said you could see things before they happen. But you didn't see this coming, did you? You let us walk into a trap." She sniffled and snorted back tears and mucus.

Goodwyn opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say.

"Some gang of thieves," Therren remarked as he tossed the body of one of the scarabs out the window. It landed with a terrible noise on the street below.

"Therren!" Goodwyn said, appalled that his friend could be so insensitive.
 

Therren shrugged. "Face it, Wyn. These kids aren't soldiers, not even close. They have no business here with us. They're a liability."

"That's enough!" Goodwyn stared in shock as his friend casually heaved the second body out the window of the inn. He didn't need to ask what he was doing. Therren was going to drag the bodies into the nearest canal and sink them. There was something dark and eerie about the casual nonchalance with which his friend carried out the task.
 

Have I really changed that much?
Goodwyn wondered. Was the
Kestian way
really so alien to him now?

Unable to come up with anything useful to say, he extended a hand to Owl and helped her up. These kids deserved better. They were innocent children, not soldiers. They didn't belong on a battlefield, they belonged on a game field, or in a school—anywhere but with him.

These kids aren't the liability
, Goodwyn thought.
I am
. He didn't know what to do with them, or how to protect them. They had saved his life, and he had repaid them by nearly costing them theirs.
 

I wish Urus was here
, he thought.
He would know what to do. He would know what to say to make them feel better
. Growing up, even if Urus was in a terrible mood he always knew what to say to make Goodwyn feel better.
I'm no leader. I can't even keep a couple of kids safe.