Cloak Games: Thief Trap (17 page)

“Hard to do that on the Internet,” I said, squatting down to examine the last shelf. 

A scroll rested on the bottom shelf. I opened it up, and a surge of excitement went through me. Elven hieroglyphs covered the scroll, and I realized it was a spell. I didn’t recognize the spell, but I did spot the hieroglyph for “mind” near the top of the scroll. If I lived through this, I could learn a new spell, another spell that I might use to free myself and Russell from Morvilind’s grasp.

I stuffed it into my duffel bag, and realized that Corvus was still talking. Best not to mention this little discovery to him. 

“The Inquisition has tried,” said Corvus, closing the book and picking it up. “Anyone caught hosting, downloading, or reading the file is executed at once. They don’t even bother with a Punishment Day video. They’ve also flooded with Internet with false copies, and track anyone who tries to download it.” 

“That’s actually halfway clever,” I said, pushing away some bloodstained rags, grateful that I was wearing gloves. “I think…”

I froze.

The tablet Morvilind wanted sat on the bottom shelf.

The damned thing looked so…tiny. I don’t know what I expected. Morvilind had told me it weighed nine pounds, and stone is fairly dense, so it couldn’t have been too big. Nevertheless I had been planning to steal it for weeks, and it loomed so large in my thoughts that it should have been at least as tall as the menhirs along the Warded Ways. Instead the tablet was about the size of both of my hands and two inches thick. It looked like a fancy bathroom tile, albeit one covered with cuneiform. Morvilind had said it was an Assyrian tablet, so I suppose the language was Assyrian. I vaguely remembered from the Marneys’ church that the Assyrians had been bloodthirsty warriors and brutal conquerors in ancient days. Perhaps the Dark Ones had helped them with such conquests. 

The tablet absolutely radiated dark magic. The stone was cool and dry, yet somehow gave off the sensation of rancid greasiness, even through my gloves. I felt an urge to fling it away from me, the same urge I would have felt if a spider had crawled up my bare arm. Yet for Russell’s sake I had to deliver the damned thing to Morvilind. 

I pulled off my makeshift backpack and opened it, drawing out a little roll of bubble wrap and another of duct tape. With a few quick motions I secured the tablet within the bubble wrap and tucked it into my pack. I didn’t know if the dark magic upon the tablet made it more resistant to cracks than regular stone, but the thing was thousands of years old and I wasn’t going to take chances. I pulled the straps over my shoulders and stood up. The extra weight of the tablet was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. 

“What are you doing?” said Corvus.

I blinked. He had the Void Codex tucked under his left arm, its unadorned cover made of green leather. In his right hand he held his Shadowmorph blade, blacker than the marble beneath my shoes. 

“The same thing you are,” I said. “What I came here to do.” 

His eyes were hard and cold. “You came here to steal an artifact of dark magic? A relic of the Dark Ones themselves?”

I shrugged. “I came here to steal what I was hired to steal. I don’t give a damn what my employer does with it.” 

“That thing is dangerous,” said Corvus.

“You so sure of that?” I said. “Can you read Assyrian?”

“No.”

I shrugged again, the straps digging into my shoulders. If I got out of here and Morvilind wanted me to steal another piece of rock, I would make sure to bring padded straps. “Then how do you know it’s dangerous? For all you know, it’s some old Assyrian king’s recipe for sugar cookies.”

“Because,” said Corvus, “I can sense the dark power around the thing as well as you can.” 

“Not my problem,” I said. “I don’t intend to use it.”

“Then you will merely sell it for money,” said Corvus. 

“Something like that,” I said. I couldn’t tell him the truth. Morvilind had been very clear about what would happen if I told anyone the details of our little “arrangement”. 

“Then you are a fool,” said Corvus. “It is dangerous…”

“Don’t lecture me,” I snapped. “I don’t want to hear any speeches about morality from an assassin who kills for money.”

“We,” said Corvus, his voice just shy of a growl, “are not assassins. The Shadow Hunters are…”

“Executioners, yes, yes, I know,” I said. “But you don’t do it for free, do you? I bet you get a little remuneration? Maybe a little honorarium? And the parasite inside you feeds off the life force of your victims, lets you do all kind of neat tricks. So don’t claim to be an executioner or some sort of knight on a mission. You’re a hired killer, plain and simple.” 

“The magic in that tablet is dangerous,” said Corvus, his eyes hard and flat, “and it will destroy you if you attempt to use it.”

“That’s good news, then,” I said. “If my employer uses it and makes his head explode, I’ll be rid of him.” I waved a hand at him. “You found your book, your Void Codex or whatever. Don’t you have someone to assassinate?” 

“I will not let you take that tablet to work evil elsewhere,” said Corvus. “Or…yes, I see now. Has this been a game all along? Perhaps you belong to a rival cult, and you’ve come to steal McCade’s artifact for your own high priest.” 

I burst out laughing. “Don’t be an idiot. I didn’t know these Dark Ones existed until about five minutes ago. Listen to me, Corvus. I don’t care about the Dark Ones, I don’t care about the Rebels, I don’t care about the High Queen, I don’t care about anything. All I care about is selling this tablet.” For with that tablet, I could buy another piece of Russell’s life from Morvilind’s grasping, miserly hands. 

“Then you are a mercenary fool,” said Corvus. “I am not sure which is worse. At least the cultists of the Dark Ones have their faith, however mad and twisted. You, however, are heedless of the harm you could cause, and care nothing for anything except your money…”

“I have my own purpose,” I said. “One a blood-drenched old murderer like you would never understand. Now. Go about your business and get out of my way.”

“I will not let you leave with that tablet,” said Corvus.

“Oh?” I said. “Are you going to stop me?”

“If I must,” said Corvus.

I met his gaze without blinking. “Sure you can do that?”

He didn’t say anything, the Shadowmorph sword motionless in his right hand. 

He could stop me. In a fight, there was no way I could take him. I didn’t have any spells that could harm him. Cloaking would be useless, since he already knew I was here. I didn’t have any way of deflecting his lightning spells, and the thought of fighting him physically was ludicrous. The man had picked me up and sprinted over the Warded Way without breaking a sweat. Short of shooting him in the back of the head with a gun, there was absolutely no way I could overcome him. 

But he didn’t necessarily know that. 

I met his gaze, forcing myself not to show any fear. My only way out of this was to bluff, and I did not dare show any weakness. 

The silence stretched on and on. 

“Well,” I said at last, “what’s it going to be?” 

Corvus drew himself up and started to speak. 

I never did find out what he intended to say. 

Three loud clangs echoed through the black temple, ringing in my ears. I looked around in surprise, half-wondering if Corvus had somehow drawn a gun and shot at me. Yet the Shadow Hunter looked just as startled as I did.

Then my brain caught up with me, and I realized where I had heard that sound before.

It was the sound of a very expensive series of locks and bolts releasing. 

The vault door was opening. 

Corvus whirled, turning his back to me, and my training took over. I took three quick steps back, concealing myself between the massive circuit breaker boxes and the back of the alcove. The altar would block the view of the alcove, and anyone who entered the temple would see Corvus first. 

Footsteps clicked against the marble floor. Three men, I thought, all of them wearing dress shoes. Had we triggered some sort of silent alarm in the temple? Though if McCade himself had summoned up those wraithwolves, he might have been linked to them with a spell. Perhaps he could even have seen through their eyes. 

McCade’s voice rang out, smooth and calm with his Midwestern accent. 

“Well, well, well,” said McCade. “A Shadow Hunter. I was wondering when you would show up. But, really, you are a most welcome guest. My lord requires sacrifices in exchange for his gifts. And you and your Shadowmorph will make a most welcome gift.” 

Chapter 10: High Priest

I tensed, uncertain of what to do, my mind sorting potential plans. Though perhaps it was too late for a plan. McCade knew that we were here, and there was only one way out of the temple. I suppose I could open another rift way, but it would return to the edge of that chasm in the Shadowlands, and there was every chance the floating tentacle-thing was still lurking nearby. I would trade getting shot in the head for getting eaten by some horror from the Shadowlands. 

“Paul McCade,” said Corvus with contempt. “Come to grovel before the bloodstained altar of the horrors you worship as a false god?”

McCade laughed. “The legendary Shadow Hunters rather fail to live up to the legend. Isn’t that a shame? All those stories about your prowess and cunning, how you can slip through the shadows and scale walls like an insect. All those stories, and you follow the laws like all the other ignorant rabble that bow before their portraits of the High Queen.”

“The Dark Ones are older than the High Queen, McCade,” said Corvus. “And far more dangerous. The High Queen might be a tyrant…”

“Don’t be so elfophobic, Shadow Hunter,” said McCade with amusement. “Or else you’ll wind up on a Punishment Day video squealing like a pig.”

“She might be a tyrant,” said Corvus as if McCade had not spoken, “but concerning the Dark Ones her law is correct. The Dark Ones are dangerous…”

“Certainly they are dangerous, but the Dark Ones greatly reward those who serve them well,” said McCade. “You have seen my mansion? I received all my wealth and power from our lord. My father founded this cult. He was working as a farmhand in South Dakota when he found a cult of the Dark Ones that had been active in the Black Hills since the days of the Aztecs. He joined the cult and brought them here to Milwaukee, along with the copy of the Void Codex which you are now manhandling. The secrets of the Dark Ones let the company rise to power and wealth. When my father died, I inherited the company…and I became the high priest of the cult.”

“A fascinating story,” said Corvus, “though I wonder why you are telling it to me.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” said McCade. He sounded as cheerful as if he was discussing a baseball game over beer. “You’re not leaving here alive, Shadow Hunter. Neither you nor your little friend. Where is she, by the way? My pets told me that two of you entered here, a man and a woman. Where is she?”

“I came alone,” said Corvus. 

I blinked in surprise. I had expected Corvus to tell my location to McCade. Still, he might think me a wretched, mercenary thief, but that still made me better than a cultist of the Dark Ones. A weird little flicker of emotion went through me. Was it shame? Corvus was right about me. I was a wretched, mercenary thief. Not that I had any choice in the matter. Not that I had ever had any choice in the matter. If I had possessed the power…

The way things were going, I might not have the power to leave this room. 

“How very chivalrous,” said McCade. “Was she yours? Your little…pet? We’ll have some fun with her, and then offer her to our lord. It will reward us with great power for her blood.” 

Had he been able to see me, I would have offered him a rude gesture. 

“That presumes you can kill me,” said Corvus. 

“You’re faster and stronger than we are,” said McCade, “and that Shadowmorph blade of yours can cut through anything. You can also heal from nearly anything…but I imagine ten bullets through your chest and six through your head would prove a challenge for even the healing prowess of a Shadowmorph.”

“Then,” said Corvus, “why haven’t you shot me already?” 

“I wish to make you an offer,” said McCade.

I inched forward a bit, peering around the edge of the circuit breaker boxes and into the temple proper. I spotted Corvus standing behind the altar. He had dropped the book and held his dark blade raised before him, his stance tense and ready. McCade waited below the dais, a .45 semi-automatic pistol in his hands. A lot of rich guys who had never served as men-at-arms don’t know how to hold guns properly, but McCade held his weapon with a proper stance, both hands on the grip, his legs spread to handle the recoil. Two of his security men stood on either side of him, both holding identical weapons. All three of them kept their weapons trained at Corvus. As fast as he was, he couldn’t dodge three competent shooters at once. 

They hadn’t noticed me yet, but after they killed Corvus, they would search the alcove.

I had to think of something clever. Like, right now. Could I open a rift way in time? No, the light would draw notice. And I might have been a mercenary thief, but I disliked the thought of leaving Corvus to die. He had saved my life from the wraithwolves, and he hadn’t sold me out to McCade. 

Maybe he expected me to do something clever. 

But what? 

“You should join us, Shadow Hunter,” said McCade. 

“And just why should I do that?” said Corvus. 

“The Dark Ones are going to triumph,” said McCade. “You know it, I know it, and even the High Queen herself knows it in the depths of her black heart. She has fought against the Dark Ones for centuries, but in the end they will prevail. The advent of the Dark Ones is at hand, and when they enter our world great rewards shall be given to their loyal followers…”

“Don’t quote the Void Codex at me,” said Corvus.

McCade laughed. “Would you prefer it in the original German?”

“I would prefer,” said Corvus, “that you not weary my ears with lies in any language. There is only one God, and you have turned away from him to worship monsters.”