Chapter 15: The Young Thief

Tattered clouds sped across the night sky like lost souls, alternately hiding and exposing the faces of the three moons that swung low overhead. Keeping to the shadows, Chinzel slipped cautiously along the deserted street. He sternly suppressed a nervous quiver as a sudden tropical shower spattered the cobblestones with large drops of rain. He decided that a sudden movement in the darkness was only a stray cat, dashing into shelter.

"There's nothing to worry about," he scolded himself. "The Guild has this job all set up. All that I have to do is follow my instructions."

He went over those instructions again in his head. There would be a window with loose bars, deep within a certain alley. He was to enter, and without being caught, locate a certain vase. He had to steal the vase, bringing it back to the Guild Hall before sunrise. If, no, when he succeeded, he would be sworn in, along with the other successful apprentices, as a full fledged member in good standing of the Talai branch of the Thieves' Guild.

This was the alley! Chinzel shrank back into the shadows as a pair of city guardsmen marched past, their mail shirts gleaming in the moonlight. He waited until their footsteps died away, then felt along the rough brick and stone wall.

There! The loose bars rattled softly as he drew them out of their sockets. The window slid open easily, moving just far enough to admit Chinzel's slender form. A practiced twist, and he was inside. He stood balanced on the balls of his feet, breathing shallowly through his mouth as he listened intently for any sound. As his eyes grew used to the darkness, he saw that he was in an unused storeroom, filled with old boxes and boards shrouded in layers of dust.

Gliding stealthily across the cluttered room, he eased open the door. It opened into a narrow hall, lighted by a small lantern in a niche. At one end, a narrow stair led down into darkness; at the other end, a broader staircase curved upward, out of sight. He ducked back into the storeroom at the sound of scuffing feet and low voices. Peering out through a narrow crack, he spied two plump green robed figures coming down the stairs with a smaller form pinioned between them.

Chinzel felt a crawling, tingling sensation between his shoulder blades. What were two priests of Kathool doing here? There had been nothing in his instructions about this! The lantern carried by one of them cast speckles of light that danced across the walls and ceiling. As they passed his door, he could see by its glow that their captive was a girl in tattered night clothes, only a little younger than himself.

"Come along now," the taller of the two priests commanded. "Screaming will do you no good. You have been greatly honored by being chosen to serve Kathool."

"My father will have your heads for this!" Her voice was low and intense, but Chinzel could hear the ragged edge of fear that lurked behind it, straining to break free. Being chosen 'to serve Kathool' meant an agonizing death at the hands of His priests, followed by eons of torture in the dreams of the Sleeping God, until at last her soul would be absorbed into the foul substance of Kathool.

"I do not think that we need worry." The shorter priest chuckled evilly, twisting the girl's arm to force her to move more quickly. "Your father will accept the fact that you are gone from his house for good. He may even be glad that his business will be free of all Temple taxes for a full year."

Their voices died to a low rumble as they descended the stairs to the house's cellars. Chinzel bit his lip in fear and indecision. Before he fully realized what he was doing, he was out in the hall, padding stealthily after them.

"Go back!" A voice within him cried out the warning, seemingly loud enough for all to hear. "This is madness! You are in the wrong house. You must find the right place, and be back at the Guild Hall by dawn."

He paid the voice no heed, shrugging off its warnings. In his mind, he could see only the delicate oval of the captive's face, framed by braids of hair that were no blacker and shinier than her almond eyes. He descended the narrow stairs into deeper darkness, his brown tunic and trousers blending into the shadows. Another corridor lit by a couple of tiny lamps stretched before him, and still another stair wound downward.

Dampness splotched the walls, patches of evil looking fungus glowing green in the darkness where the glow of the lamps did not reach. The floor beneath him was of roughly dressed stone blocks, as were the walls and ceiling. Far ahead, a greenish glow grew brighter as he inched his way forward. He flattened himself against one wall, inching forward until he could see into the room at the end of the corridor.

The wavering green torch light made everything seem larger than it really was, but the underground chamber was easily large enough to seat twenty or thirty people. The two priests were busy at something on the far side of the room. Chinzel breathed a silent curse, unable to see what they were doing in the semi darkness. Greatly daring, he crept forward on to his hands and knees, careful to keep a row of benches between himself and the priests.

"There, that should hold you until the worshippers get here." Chinzel froze in momentary panic as the priest's voice boomed out a couple of short steps from where he crouched. There was a hissing sputter as another torch was lighted, and Chinzel flattened himself in the shadow of a low table. When he next dared to look, the two priests had their backs to him. He slithered on his belly to where he would be partly screened by a massive pillar. The additional light gave him a clearer picture of the underground temple, for temple it was. Rows of rough benches provided seats for worshippers, and one wall was completely taken up by a huge idol of their God, the fearsomely repulsive Kathool!

Chinzel shuddered as he looked at the monstrous statue. In the slums of Talai were many shrines; to Ipsnadd, the skeletal God of beggars and thieves, to Astur, the Goddess of fertility and growing things, even a few to s'Purlo, the rotund little traveler's God. He had been in them all, though not always to worship, but he had never ventured inside one of Kathool's cylindrical temples.

The torches flickered madly, shadows jumping and flowing, but the movement of the humid air was only caused by one of the priests approaching the idol.

"Oh mighty Kathool," he intoned. "Look with favor on this soul we are about to send to you."

He could see the idol clearly. Its pendulously fat body was somewhat manlike, but cruel talons on its hands and feet gripped the squared off block of stone that was its pedestal. A pair of vast bat like wings spread across the expanse of wall, as though the God was poised to launch itself out into the temple. Chinzel studied the wings carefully, trying to keep his eyes away from Kathool's face. Or, at least, where the face should have been. The entire front of the idol's head was a writhing mass of stumpy tentacles, each of which ended in either a glowing eye or a greedily fanged mouth.

The sobbing girl had been chained to an X shaped framework of heavy timbers, the last tattered remnants of her flimsy night dress torn from her, when Chinzel struck! The larger priest slumped to the floor, dead before he knew anything was happening, as the point of Chinzel's dagger pierced his heart. The other priest had barely time for a strangled shout as Chinzel leaped at him, and then he, too, was down for good.

"Who are you?" The girl's words were in a frightened whisper, but a rising hope glowed in her fear widened eyes. She shivered in the cold air, her unclad body moving closer to him as though seeking his protection while he picked the locks of her shackles.

"Chinzel, of the Street of the Deep Well," he told her. "What's your name?"

"Fan. I am Fan, daughter of Ho Chen, the merchant. My father will reward you generously when you return me to him."

"We won't worry about that, not for a while yet. The first thing we have to do is to get out of here. Ah!" The last of the chains fell from her ankle with a harsh clatter. It was echoed by the sound of a heavy door closing, not far away. Down the passage that led to Kathool's temple, a glow of light wavered and danced ever closer.

"What shall we do?" Fan shrank closer to his side. "We're trapped. We must hide!"

"No use trying to hide in here." He held pulled a torch from its holder, holding it on high as he studied the underground temple with its monstrous idol. "This place has got to have a way out."

Down the hall came the echo of voices, quickly approaching. Fan knelt for an instant by the body of a dead priest, arising with a long dagger clutched in her trembling hand. At least, he thought, she held it as though she knew how to use it. Chinzel laid his torch down, and was pushing at the base of the idol.

"Come here," he called softly. "I think I've found the way out."