The Shadowhand Covenant (5 page)

My heart thumped in my chest. Going back meant working on the translation of
The Kolohendriseenax Formulary.
But it might also mean crawling around underground after vessapedes again. Or maybe tromping around the fireglades of Yonick Province, seeing if we could outrun a sanguibeast.

I had a hunch we couldn't.

The one thing I knew for sure: my fear of dying overrode my love of learning. I wasn't sure I could take much more. But I thought about what Maloch said:
You're not a thief anymore.
And it made my brow burn to admit he was right. Studying science was the only thing that came naturally to me. If I didn't go back with the Dowager, what would I do?

“Right,” I said absently. “I, uh . . . I'll just go get my things.”

The Dowager climbed into the carriage as I entered the
house. Ma and Da bent over the kitchen table, studying a map of the Five Provinces. Nanni and Aubrin sat nearby, Aubrin writing so quickly in one of her journals that I thought her hand might fall off. Maloch paced back and forth, yelling at them all.

“I came to you to help find my father—,” he was saying.

“We have no idea where he is, Maloch,” Da said patiently. “Right now, our best bet is to try to warn the remaining Shadowhands that someone is after them. Your da left us with enough information to go on. This is what he wanted. That's why he kept records. Once the remaining Shadowhands have been warned, I'm sure they'll launch an effort to find your da and everyone else who's gone missing.”

Ma pointed to the map. “We can be in Aldria in two days.”

Da looked to Nanni. “Mind putting off your retirement just a mite? Watch Aubrin and Maloch until we get back?”

Maloch stomped his foot. “I will not let her watch me.”

“No problem, kid, I didn't want to watch you anyway,” Nanni said, turning her nose up in the air.

Ma went to the closet and pulled out two large backpacks. One of the perils of being a Grimjinx is that you have
to be ready at a moment's notice to flee, in case you're ever chased by an angry mob. It's happened more times than I can count. As a result, Ma and Da kept a stash of emergency supplies, already separated into packs. We could live off those packs for days.

“If you're going to find the Shadowhands, then I'm coming with you,” Maloch said firmly.

“Maloch, we have no idea what we're up against,” Ma said. “Ona and I are old hats at this. The search will go much faster if it's just the two of us.”

Maloch stood there, silently fuming. I didn't know what to think. What Ma and Da said made sense, but if I were in Maloch's shoes, I wouldn't wait around, hoping someone would look for Da at some point. Instead of arguing, he turned and tromped upstairs.

As Ma and Da checked their packs, I realized I couldn't leave with the Dowager. I needed more time to decide if I wanted to continue my apprenticeship. I reached into the closet and helped myself to another pack. “If you wait just a few minutes, I can—”

Da took the pack from my hands. “Hold hard, young man. Where are you going?”

Ma shook her head. “You have an apprenticeship, mister. Responsibilities. Your place is in Redvalor Castle now. Your da and I will take care of this, and we'll send you a letter when it's all through. Don't keep the Dowager waiting.”

I opened my mouth to speak. Everything I wanted to say—how miserable I was, how the apprenticeship wasn't what I thought it would be, how the Dowager and I had argued endlessly for the last two months—just sat there at the back of my throat. Ma and Da had been so supportive of me. If any other young thief had told his parents he wanted to leave the family business and study plants, he'd have been locked in his bedroom until he could pick the lock and get out himself. But Ma and Da wanted me to be happy and do whatever I wanted. How could I admit that maybe what I wanted wasn't what I'd thought I wanted?

My shoulders slumped. Ma and Da gave Nanni, Aubrin, and me quick hugs, then slipped out the back door.

“Come on, Aubrin,” Nanni said, taking my sister's hand. “We've got another mouth to feed.” She glanced up the stairs to where Maloch had gone. “And it looks like a big one. Time to go shopping.”

“But you're dead, remember?” Aubrin asked. “If you think
you'll go unnoticed, you don't have a ghost of a chance.”

Nanni shook her head at the joke. “I think I liked it better when you didn't speak.” She threw a cowl over her head to disguise her face. “If anyone notices, you can tell them I'm your nanni's evil twin sister. That should scare the nosy ones away.”

And with that, they left. I glanced out the window at the Dowager's carriage. An idea formed. Before I lost my nerve, I ran outside.

“Oh, good,” the Dowager said as I crawled into the seat across from her, “we can leave. You know how much I hate traveling at night. The rogues who prey on night travelers aren't nearly as nice as your parents.”

“Listen,” I said slowly, avoiding her eyes, “Maloch's father. He's missing. My parents are going to look for him and I . . . I think I should go with them.”

I figured that if I headed out now, I could catch up and talk them into letting me join them. Tell them I wanted one last adventure before returning to Redvalor. They'd buy that. I hoped.

The Dowager's eyes grew sad. “Is this . . . about our problems?”

I stammered, “N-no, no . . . I just want to help my parents. Then I'll come back to Redvalor so we can start translating the
Formulary.
Just give me a week. Maybe two.”

The Dowager studied me. I felt sick lying. I didn't know for sure that I
would
return to Redvalor.

“If you must, you must,” she said, smiling as the singsong returned to her voice. “Oh, I will miss you, Jaxter. Arguments aside, we've had some good times these past few months.”

If you don't count vessapedes trying to eat our faces,
I thought. But I said, “I've learned so much from you. Thank you.” The Dowager looked confused, and I realized it sounded like I was saying good-bye permanently. So I added, “We can talk more when I get back.”

“Take as long as you need to help your parents. But I'll expect you to go right to work on the translation when you return.”

I held both hands over my heart. “Thief's honor.”

I bounded from the carriage and waved as it pulled away. Once it was out of sight, I ran into the house and took an emergency pack from the closet. Ma and Da could only have just left the town-state gates. Catching up would be easy. Convincing them to let me join the search . . . Well, I
couldn't let the fact that I'd failed once stop me. As my great-great-aunt Gola Grimjinx always said, “The thief who tries twice can only die once.”

Come to think of it, that wasn't a very good saying.

I took the back door into the alley. I'd only made it halfway down the passage when something large and heavy fell on me from above.

I hit the ground, the air rushing from my lungs. Head spinning from the impact, I looked around to find Maloch sprawled out next to me, shaking his head.

“What are you doing in the alley?” he asked.

I looked up and noticed that my second-floor bedroom window was open.

“What are you doing jumping out of windows?” I said back to him.

Maloch crawled around on his hands and knees, retrieving the contents from his backpack, which had spilled all over the alley.

“Should have known better than to trust a Grimjinx,” he growled, shoving a length of rope, a grappling hook, and a sextant into his pack. “If no one else will help me, I'll find my da myself.” He tugged at his sleeve to conceal the small
silver dagger in a sheath on his forearm.

I leaped to my feet to block him from leaving the alley. Not that there was anything I could do if he chose to push past me. But I like to think it looked valiant.

“Steady on, Maloch. It's like Ma and Da said, we have no clue where he might be—”

“I don't give a zoc what your parents said!” Maloch said loudly. “They've got their way of searching, I've got mine.”

He shoved me with his shoulder and stormed out into the streets as night fell on Vengekeep. The way I saw it, I had three choices. Choice One: continue with my original plan, track down my parents, and join them on their quest to warn the Shadowhands. Choice Two: find Nanni and hope that she could help me convince Maloch to stay and leave things to my parents. Either of these would have been safe, sane things to do.

So why did I go with Choice Three: follow Maloch and try to stop him myself?

I broke into a sprint to catch up with him. “This is completely naff-nut, Maloch. You have no idea where to start looking.”

Maloch only walked faster to keep ahead. “Da was on his way to the village of Skona. I'll start there.”

“Yeah,” I said, practically running to keep up with him, “but you don't even know if he made it to Skona. Look, Ma and Da are looking for the remaining Shadowhands. They've got more practice tracking people down than anyone. They'll find your da.”

“The only person I can rely on to find my da is me.”

We turned to find a lamplighter touching her flaming pole to one of the oil lamps that dotted every street corner. When she looked our way, Maloch darted between two buildings. I leaped after him, crouched in total darkness. Once the lamplighter had moved on, Maloch slipped back onto the street and I followed.

“Go home, Jaxter,” Maloch said. “You're not coming with me.”

I laughed. “I'm not planning on going anywhere with you, you garfluk. I wouldn't if you asked me.”

“Well, I'm not asking.”

“Well, I'm not going. I'm trying to get you to be sensible and come back with me.”

He chuckled. “Not a chance.”

Suddenly, he stopped. Not watching where I was going, I ran into him and fell to the ground. “Not nice,” I said, picking myself up.

He looked side to side, then took off walking again, faster than ever.

I raced to catch up. “If you don't slow down and listen, I can't tell you all the great reasons to stay—”

“We're being followed,” he said, pulling me closer. I quickened my pace and searched for our pursuers. “Don't look around, you idiot!”

He was right. Looking around was conspicuous. Amateur mistake . . . and he didn't make it. I did.

Have I mentioned that I hated the idea he was a better thief than me?

He bobbed his head to the left. “Two of 'em. In the shadows behind us.”

I shot the quickest of glances, and sure enough, I spotted two hunched figures jumping from shadow to shadow, staying close.

“This way,” Maloch said as he pulled us down another alley. The farther we went, the darker it got. We'd only made it about halfway down the alley when a tall, broad-shouldered
man stepped out ahead to block our exit. Whirling around, I saw that our two pursuers were now guarding the entrance.

The shadows in the alley started to stir. Four . . . then five . . . soon, eight men had emerged from the darkness and formed a circle around us. It was a trap. They'd intentionally let Maloch know they were following and steered us down this alley on purpose.

The idea that maybe Maloch wasn't such a brilliant thief after all gave me little comfort as the eight men advanced slowly.

I stepped away from the alley's entrance until my back met Maloch's. From the corner of my eye, I saw him raise his arms, so I threw up my own hands in surrender. I looked again to see that Maloch had his fists up. He wasn't giving up. He wanted to fight.

“Oh, zoc,” I swore, bringing my hands down to chest level and making the most pathetic fists ever. “You know, there's no shame in screaming like babies for help.”

“No way,” Maloch said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Our attackers appeared weaponless. They were tall and lean, dressed in tattered clothes, long hair pulled back into
tails. “Who are they?”

“If someone's after Shadowhands,” Maloch said, “they might be going after the families too.”

Oh. So they were here for Maloch. My Grimjinx survival instinct kicked in. But before I could even step aside and say, “He's all yours,” the men charged at us.

My right hand dove into a pouch on my hip. I pulled out a handful of powdered roxpepper seeds and threw it in the face of the man closest to me. His head pitched back as he howled in pain. I couldn't blame him. His eyes would sting for a week. You don't mess with roxpepper.

Before I could grab more from my pouch, two sets of hands squeezed my arms and yanked me forward. I struggled, thrashing around and trying to stomp on their bare feet. But I weighed next to nothing, and keeping me subdued wasn't a problem.

Maloch, however, was another story. As an apprentice to the stateguard, he'd been trained in kioro, the ancient Satyran fighting art, and it showed. Maloch whirled and spun, throwing fists and kicks in every direction, most of them landing with more force than I imagine these guys thought a twelve-year-old could muster. It was actually kind
of impressive. Not that I'd tell him that.

Maloch managed to hold his own until five of them attacked him all at once. They wrestled him to the ground, and Maloch went down fighting. I opened my mouth to try plan B—the screaming-like-a-baby idea—but someone clamped a wet rag over my face. The earthy smell of camma bark infused in seris oil overwhelmed me, and I gasped in panic. According to the
Formulary,
the combination made a powerful sleeping draught. Gasping was a mistake. The heady aroma sent my head spinning. I was out cold a moment later.