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    Chapter 2


    Deals & Offers


    Darza sat in the antechamber of the main hall. The children and the elderly were inside, the safest place in the entire palace. Never before had this place been penetrated by an invading force. Until now that is.


    The room was large and like all the rooms in the Osiri Mines it had been carved directly out of the rock by Stoneshapers. At first the invaders had entered quietly, with crossbows raised but they did not shoot.


    Before Daria sat a tall man with dark hair and a kept beard. He was young, he couldn’t be older than thirty and that was being generous but he had a dangerous gait. He was the kind of man that Darza had spent his career avoiding, the kind that would kill you before you even released that you were in a fight. Seated next to him was another man, older and larger with tight blond hair.


    “What kind of deal are you looking for?” Darza asked, trying not to let his voice betray his fear. He had nothing to bargain with, they were already in the mines and the royal family were in their custody on the other side of the palace. Surely they already have what they came for.


    “We have reason to believe there is a sizable cache of stormstone in the mine,” the dark haired man said, “I can imagine that a considerable amount of the stone has been hidden. If you cooperate with my men in finding all of the caches, we will spare the people in the main hall.”


    “They can’t be trusted!” Enoi snapped from behind him. The blond man didn’t hesitate, he raised his hand holding a revolver and shot. The sound was as loud as a thunderclap as the bullet tore through Enoi’s head spraying blood against the wall behind him, the force propelling the man’s lifeless body to the floor. The other men in the room gripped their spears tightly. Revolvers were a new weapon that the people of Altarea had yet to understand how they were made. From reports, they operated without the use of runestones.


    “No… we cannot be trusted,” the blond man said evenly, “but you do not have much choice. We will overrun you and your men and we will kill every soul in this mine. We can also easily tear this place apart ourselves in search of the caches.” He said it all so calmly, “But,” he added, “we are impatient men, captain, and with your help we can sweep the mine a lot quicker. Cooperate with us and we will have what we need faster and you, your men and the people in this mine will be allowed to leave this place unharmed. The palace is now under Reldoni occupation, it would be better for you to work with us than against us.” Darza thought for a moment. Enoi was right, of course, these monsters couldn’t be trusted but Enoi’s brains were currently spilling out on the floor, being right hadn’t kept him alive. At least this way he might have a chance to survive this. “Your King,” The dark haired man spoke again, “We offered him the same deal when we first arrived at the city. If he had agreed, much of this bloodshed could have been avoided.” The King would never have surrendered the mines willingly, he was too proud and too greedy. Also, who would have thought that these Reldoni could have so easily overrun the legendary stormguard. Darza didn’t take his eyes off the revolver, it was silver with a wooden handle. Such a small thing that can cause so much destruction. Much like a stormstone in the wrong hands. “What do you plan to do with the caches?” Darza asked, he didn’t try to hide his loathing. The men remained silent, their bodyguards still had their crossbows pointed at him.


    “You are not in a position to be asking questions, captain,” the blond man said, “You have two options; agree to help our men or refuse and perish.”


    Could he really allow these men to hold such an amount of stormstone? The runestones were what made the Altarean army such an elite force. He had no doubts as to what use the Reldoni warmongers had for the stormstone cache. They would use it to reap more death and destruction. But if he refused… The blond man still held onto the revolver levelled at him. There were so many children inside, all of the Altarean highborn youth. He had no children of his own but he couldn’t have all of those deaths on him, not when there was a sliver of a chance.


    “We will do what we can, sir,” he said eventually, “we will help you if you spare them.”


    ***


    Femira crept through dark corridors, Lichtin’s informant said that she should make her way down to the lower levels, so she did. She sneaked down stone corridors, deeper and deeper. There had been some noise above at first of the invaders ransacking each room but it would take them a long time to make their way down this far. Still, she moved quietly and used only the deep amber light of her earthstone to guide her.


    Her knees burned where she’d scuffed them on the landing on the other side of the crevice. The feeling of soaring through the air on the stormsail had filled with an exhilarating blend of terror and excitement. It was a reckless move, she knew. But then again everything she’d done tonight had been reckless. That was definitely top three at least.


    She came up to a large steel door with crossed spears emblazoned on it. This must be it. They keep something in there,  The informant had said, I’m not sure what it is but they don’t let no one but the highest officials inside. Not even the stormguards are allowed in. And true to his word there was no keyhole to try to pick. She pushed against the door but it didn’t budge. She pressed her hands against it and felt the thrum of the earthstone’s power as it slowly began dissolving the metal. It would take hours, maybe even days to carve a hole. Well I don’t need to carve a hole through it . She reached down and pressed her hands against the stone floor, she pushed hard as she had before up on the wall. This wasn’t pavement, so there was no weaker stone wear away first, this was solid, the entire corridor had been carved this way directly out of the natural stone. Slowly she began to form a tunnel beneath the door, dissolving the rock. It was a slow process but quicker than trying to pick a lock on a door with no keyhole. After a moment she realised that the frame around the door was also steel and it expanded far below the floor. She tried dissolving the rock beside the door but it too had a layer of steel beneath. They really don’t want people to get in here. The entire walls were likely steel, but maybe they weren’t smart enough to line the ceiling.


    She hurried back up the nearby stairs, counting her steps excitedly. They won’t keep me out, I’m the best burglar in all of Altarea—probably the best in the world. She hadn’t heard any noise from the floors above yet so she was certain the invaders weren’t even close yet. Once she was on the floor above the room she traced her steps back along the corridor, the tunnels were all carved by Stoneshapers and they followed strict patterns, there was nothing haphazard about these tunnels. Not really what I would expect of a mine. She reached a point where she had no doubt that the steel door was below her. There was a wall of rock in front of her. She confidently pressed her hands against the stone and began to dissolve it with large sweeping gestures, pushing out with the power of the earthstone as she had done before. It was a narrow tunnel but she was tiny herself. She crawled inside and continued to push forward another few feet before angling downward.


    The earthstone was slowly beginning to glow brighter and it was becoming significantly heavier. I won’t have much more power left. Normally when it got like this she would have to bring it back to Lichtin, he did something with it that made the light fade and made the stone weightless again. Soon it would be too heavy to carry and would stop working. Runestones are like people, Lichtin had said with his smug knowing smile, if you feed them too much they become fat and useless. What is that even supposed to mean? This is how he keeps her coming back to him, the promise of so much more to learn.


    She continued to tunnel down, sifting her hands through rock, it was like digging through dry sand, and dissolving more until her hands brushed against something solid. The thrum of the earthstone didn’t stop but she knew it was now dissolving steel again. They’ve even lined the ceiling with steel! She crawled out from her tunnel, and slumped back against the wall. She wasn’t giving up—if anything the measures made to keep her out only fuelled her desire to want to break in. But her body was beginning to feel the exhaustion of climbing the wall and the weight of the earthstone around her neck wasn’t helping. Her only option was the door. The informant said there was no keyhole but just because there wasn’t a place for a key didn’t mean there was no bolt, something was holding the door in place.


    She made her way back down to the lower corridor. The door was completely smooth apart from the crossed spears engraving. There was obviously a way to open it so she began feeling around the etchings but she couldn’t find any hidden cavity or anything that could be the unlocking mechanism. She held out the earthstone using its light to peek through the seam of the door. The door was thick but there was an eerie light inside. Perfect. She followed the seam down the floor and then along the base. At the center there was a break in the light, a thick black spot. She grinned, there’s always the bolt. She pressed her fingers against the pinhole gap beneath the door and feeling the dull vibrations. Dissolving metal was slow but not impossible, I’ve got time. She pushed her fingers hard against the gap and forcing it with the power of the earthstone. I climbed down at least two dozen sets of stairs to get to this floor. I have plenty of time before they get here. The thought didn’t stop her glancing over her shoulder every few moments to the dark stairs at the end of the hallway. The vibrations of the earthstone helped dull the pain of the metal scratching against fingers as she slowly pushed them further into the gap. The hole was tight and she didn’t want to waste time making it more comfortable so she only dissolved enough to force her fingers in further. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but she managed to get her fingers about two inches deep but there was already blood running down her palm. She pushed harder, gritting her teeth. Dissolving metal takes days, it’s not worth your time, Lichtin always said but he was wrong, this isn’t taking that long. She couldn’t have been at this for more than an hour now and her entire hand was now underneath the door, her shoulder resting against the smooth steel. Her fingers had long since gone numb with the pain so she wasn’t sure if she had even begun wearing down the bolt. And then it moved. Slowly, at first, the door shifted under the weight of her shoulder. Delicately she pulled out her torn up hand, there were shallow cuts leading from the tips of her fingers down to the base of her hand. With her other hand she pulled out a bandage rag from her pouch and wrapped it around tightly to stop the bleeding.


    Femira could barely hold in her excitement, the hunger to know what was inside motivating her to ignore all the pain in her wounded hand and her bruised and fatigued body. She pushed hard against the door, resisting at first but with more force the door groaned open. Unlike the dark corridor outside this room was bright, forcing her to squint as her eyes adjusted. Mounds of stormstone were piled everywhere, each stone giving off a faint but deep violet hue. Collectively they created a garishly bright purple light. The room wasn’t very big but there were columns leading to the end of the room where there was an altar, it almost looked like the inside of a chapel. Well this place is weird. She crept into the room, pushing the door closed behind her. Why would they keep so much stormstone in one place? Surely it would be better to have smaller caches hidden around the entire mine. They’re hiding something else. She realised as she lightly stepped through the room. They know that if someone were to break in then they would carry as much stormstone as they could and run for it before they got caught. Rich people always thought they were so clever, but a good burglar is always steps ahead of them. “What are you hiding,” she whispered quietly to the room.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    She walked up to the altar, instinctively crouching although there was nobody around. There was a book lying open but she couldn’t read common tongue so it was useless. She checked the entire altar for secret compartments but there was nothing. She scanned through the room but couldn’t find anywhere that something could be hidden. Maybe I’m wrong? — No, I’m never wrong. She searched again, this time pushing over some of the mounds of stormstone, looking for hidden treasures. She loved this, she felt like Vagar the Bold, from the old stories, creeping through some Sorcerer King’s tomb. Maybe there would be stories about her someday. Femira the Vreth, she stole treasures from the heart of the Altarean palace without ever being detected.


    She didn’t find anything hidden beneath the mounds. Maybe the columns? - She inspected each column, searching for signs of hidden compartments. She noticed that at the back of the room, one of the columns was a little unusual. This section is darker, why is one darker? A small portion of one of the back columns was slightly darker than the rest, most people probably wouldn’t have even noticed. It’s a different type of rock to the rest, why are the columns rock to begin with? Why not use steel? She pressed her hand against it and it immediately began to disintegrate. It’s weak rock too, really weak. She smirked, excitedly, heedlessly pushing her hands into the stone, it fell away so easily, as if she were simply swatting away dust. until they reached something solid.


    It was a wooden box, she pulled it out and stepped over to the altar dropping it down carefully on top of the worthless book. It was seamless, she’d seen it’s like before. A pressure lock, probably. She began pushing at various parts of the box in different patterns like she had learned to do years ago. She didn’t want to risk smashing it against the wall, not without knowing what was inside. Coming all this way and then breaking the treasure. Lichtin would be furious. Well, it’s not like I’d be coming home empty handed, she thought looking about at the trove of stormstone, there was enough here to buy the entire city. Maybe she should leave now and try to open it when she got back to the crewhouse. She forcefully fit the box tightly in her pouch along with a handful of stormstones and made for the exit.


    The door swung open.


    Instinctively, she dove to the side and scrambled behind one of the glowing mounds of stormstone.


    “Well it seems that the rumour that Osiri is empty are unfounded.”


    Femira curled up behind the mount, trying to make herself as small as possible.


    Shit, shit, shit, shit!


    The voice was a man’s and he had an accent that Femira didn’t recognize. Must be the invaders, the Reldonis. How did they get down here so fast? She was holding her breath, feeling panic rising. Relax, panicking gets you caught. She let out her breath quietly and controlled, steadily allowing herself to breathe.


    “I can assure you, sir, the mines are indeed spent. The King hordes the last of it because he knows there’s no more left to be dug out.” That accent was Altarean—highborn Altarean. She could hear footsteps moving about the room and armour clinking.


    “I want this whole level guarded. We will begin moving the stormstone to the ships immediately.” Against all her rationality, Femira peeked over the mound and caught sight of the speaker. He was handsome with black hair that reflected the purple light of the stormstone in a strange way. There were a half dozen of them in the room. Five Reldoni all in dark red uniforms with black armour, and one unarmed Altarean stormguard.


    “I will assess the quality of the stones,” a large blond Reldoni said. They were all looking toward the back of the room, where the larger piles of stormstone were.


    “Good, do that,” the dark-haired man replied, “I’ll post guards in the hallway and make preparations to move it all to the ships.” he left with the other men, leaving only the blond man—the only one not wearing any armour at all, Femira was unsure if his uniform was just so stained from blood that it was red or if it was always supposed to be that colour.


    Femira assessed her options, they would be clearing out the stones soon so she couldn’t stay hiding. She couldn’t tunnel her way out, not quickly enough and certainly not through steel. She could wait for him to leave and then sneak past the guards outside, it’s darker out there so she could stay in the shadows. Femira the Vreth could disappear into the shadows. That’s what they’ll say. The blond man was showing no signs of leaving as he began moving toward the altar at the back. She couldn’t fight him, he was huge and she was exhausted. He also had a shortsword hilted at his waist and she didn’t even have her climbing spikes to throw in his face. The man was inspecting the column, the one she had taken the box from, she could feel the weight of it in her pouch. It was clear that something had been hidden inside the column.


    “You can come out now,” the man said simply. Femira froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart racing, I can run for it, she thought as she glanced toward the doorway. Maybe the other man hadn’t set the guards yet, maybe the hallway was still empty.


    “Trust me, you won’t get far, come out from behind that mound.” he said again as he made his way back to the altar, not even looking in her direction. He knew where she was, if he knew where she was he could have killed her already.


    She worked best with no plan. He didn’t know what she had found, she had all the power. He’s just a thief like her, a thief that came too late. All he has is muscle… and a sword. And an army. She took a breath, stood up and walked out into the center of the room. The man was looking through the pages of the book on the altar, he didn’t look up. She felt awkward just standing there but she wouldn’t be the one to break the silence. “You have something I want,” he said, still not looking up.


    “You’ll have to be specific,” she said, her heart was pounding, all rationality screaming at her to run. He looked up at her, smiling. He was old, not too old but still old enough that his face had creases at the eyes and the forehead. He had a tight blond beard and pale eyes that glowed purple in the light of the stormstone. “You’re a burglar,” he smirked, “Very bold of you to sneak into a palace that is under attack.”


    “I would say opportunistic.” That’s the word that Lichtin always used when dealing with buyers. We’re not thieves, we’re opportunists. He would say.


    “Opportunistic indeed. I’m happy to have provided this opportunity for you.” He walked around from behind the altar, carrying the book. “But Osiri and everything in it now belongs to the Kingdom of Reldon. Thieving from the crown is a tremendous crime.”


    “Well, we’re not in Reldon and I’m not Reldoni so I think this is a bit of a grey area.” The words just came out, she was starting to feel oddly relaxed, her panic easing.


    “No, you’re not Reldoni—or Altarean for that matter. You look like you might be Keiran.”


    “How much are you willing to pay?” she said sharply, they were wasting time. What does it matter if I’m Keiran?


    “And what is it you’re looking to sell?” The smile was gone, his purple cast eyes looking at her hungrily. Slowly she took out the box from her pouch, taking a step back. He was far from arm''s reach but she wanted to be closer to the door in case she needed to bolt.


    “A thousand gold marks,” she said. It was an insanely wild number, a single gold mark could buy her a permanent room in the city. “For the box… and how to open it.” She could tell by the look in his eyes that he would pay any price for the box.


    “You don’t know how to open it,” he said.


    “Yes, I do!” She retorted, offended.


    “You’re a good liar,” he smiled, “tell me are you working alone?” What kind of question was that? Was he probing to see if she had backup? She didn’t want to give any credit to Lichtin or the crew, all they did was pay off the informant that she sourced. “If you kill me, you’ll never find out how to open it.”


    “I won’t kill you,” he replied and pulled out a small metal device from his sword belt, “if you answer me truthfully.” He pointed the device at her, it was small and metal with a wooden handle, “Do you know what this is?”


    “It’s a pistol—I think,” she had heard the crew talking about them. They were like the cannons on ships only they could fit in your hand. She’d seen and heard cannons firing against the palace walls in the early days of the invasion. She didn’t particularly want one fired at her face.


    “Who are you working with?” he asked again.


    “Nobody,” she replied.


    “Who are you working for?”


    “Nobody,” she snapped and he clicked something on the pistol gently. She could feel herself starting to sweat “Nobody, I swear it. I sometimes work with a crew in the city but not on this job.”


    “Do you know what’s inside the box?”


    She paused. She didn’t want to give up her only bargaining chip. She had to make him believe that she could open it. “No,” she replied, “but I can open it.”


    He walked toward her still holding the pistol pointed at her. “I believe you,” he said and gently took the box from her. Fear began to rise in her. He needs me to open that, he can’t kill me. She could run for it now, she should run. She still had the handful of stormstone, with all the stormstone going back to Reldon it would sell for a high price, higher than before. Memories of the cannonballs exploding against the castle walls stopped her from running. He needs me, he can’t open it. Neither could she yet but that didn’t matter right now.


    “I’m impressed that you made it here before me,” he said, “what is your name?”


    “Vreth,” she replied. If you get caught, never tell them your real name. Lichtin always said. Never tell them my name either! In fact, just say nothing and run. He would add. She should be running, why wasn’t she running?


    “Vreth,” he smirked, “clever—I like that. My name is Garld Hannis, Lord General of the Reldoni army,” He clicked on a section of the box and it popped open. Femira’s chest tightened. Run! Run now! She dashed for the door, but it slammed shut. How? She turned to look at the man, panicking. He was still smiling, the pistol was no longer pointing at her.


    Garld reached into the box and pulled out the tiniest chip of a glowing runestone, smaller than a halfpenny. It was clear—like a diamond but at the same time not like a diamond. She didn’t recognize it, and she’d stolen her share of gemstones. The man had a terrifying smile, “You have no idea how long I have searched for this, Vreth,” he didn’t take his eyes off the fleck of stone.


    “And yet, you got to it before me,” she got a sinking feeling in her chest, “I want to offer you a job.”


    “What kind of job?” She asked carefully.


    “I could see what you did to unlock the door, you’re skilled with that—” he nodded to the glowing earthstone around her neck, “—despite being obviously untrained. Working for me, you can learn how to wield its power properly. You will be serving a real purpose. You will be respected… and feared.” She couldn’t deny that it was a tempting offer even if the unspoken threat of being killed for refusing wasn’t apparent. Lichtin had lured her in with a similar promise, but he’d only taught her a little, and she was beginning to suspect he didn’t know much more than that.


    “And what do you need me to do?” She asked, uncertain. He smiled, the same knowing smile that Lichtin so regularly uses.


    “I want you to kill someone.”


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