The Vengekeep Prophecies (32 page)

My jaw dropped as Callie elbowed me in the ribs. Everyone in my family looked at one another in shock. Neryn was, in short, asking Da to be head of Vengekeep's law enforcement. He would be Aronas's boss and work closely with the Castellan on the security and safety of the town-state.

Ma's tapestry had certainly never predicted that.

Da stammered for quite some time, but in the end he stunned us all by accepting. Even the Castellan and Aronas could hardly believe Da was saying yes. As Neryn shook Da's hand, the Castellan banged his gavel to put an end to the session before skulking angrily from the council chambers.

Back at the house, Callie joined us for a celebratory dinner. Outside, work crews sifting through the damage and rebuilding Vengekeep had become a common and welcome sound. With the threat of the remaining prophecies extinguished, life in our little town-state looked to be headed back to normal.

“So,” Callie said wistfully, “that's it then. The Grimjinxes are going straight.”

“I don't know about that,” Da said, a gleam in his eyes. “I would think that serving as Protectorate might make it easier for me to cover up some of the family's more nefarious exploits.”

It was Ma, of course, who remained practical. “However, in light of recent events, I think it's safe to say we'll be cutting back on our … other activities quite a bit. Now we have
two
legitimate sources of income. It could be fun to see how the other half lives for a while.”

Aside from my father's new post as Protectorate, the second source of income to which Ma referred was the phydollotry shop. While we were gone, Nanni and Aubrin had rallied to get Ma out of her depression. The three of them took over the phydollotry shop and made it into something real: a doll-making shop! They'd been in business since the second week after Callie and I left Vengekeep. They'd even managed to make a bit of money doing it.

“How's your arm, Callie?” Aubrin asked.

Callie smiled. “I'll be using it again in no time. I need two good arms to assist Talian.”

A couple days earlier, Talian had asked Callie to be his apprentice. He'd admired how she'd handled herself with the spiderbat queen, saying her poise reflected all the qualities necessary in a mage. Callie still needed to go through several interviews with the Palatinate, who had become notorious of late for accepting fewer apprentice candidates. But once she got their approval, they could begin formal training.

While everyone enjoyed Da's burnwillow crumble, I pulled Aubrin aside. “So, Jinxface,” I said quietly, “are you going to tell me why it took you so long to speak?”

She brushed her hair from her eyes and gave me the oddest, saddest smile. “When it matters, you'll know.”

Bangers. I'd always hoped Aubrin would start speaking. I never dreamed she'd be so cryptic. “At least show me everything you wrote,” I said, reaching for the black book in her hand.

She snatched it away and shook her finger. “It's not time.”

Nanni, who'd disappeared to her room after we returned home, came downstairs and joined the family at the kitchen table. She looked at me and smiled, cradling the family album.

“As keeper of the family album detailing all significant events in Grimjinx history,” she said, “I've noticed that our records have become terribly outdated. It's time to correct this.”

Nanni took a seat and laid the book on the table. Da passed her a quill and a pot of ink. Nanni nudged Callie. “You too. You're one of us, you know.”

Callie beamed and slid her chair closer to mine. Quill in hand, Nanni wrote swiftly as Callie and I spent the next hour recounting our adventure. Graywillow Market, Edilman, the Dowager, Xerrus … When we were finished, the family applauded and Nanni closed the book carefully.

“Not bad,” she said. “Although, I think it's the first time a Grimjinx story didn't end with ‘And then we were rich beyond belief.'”

Dinner continued. But for all the jokes and stories, I couldn't take my eyes off the family album. I was in there. Now and forever.

So why did it feel wrong?

As evening fell, I walked Callie home. People smiled at both of us as they passed in the streets. It seemed unlikely I'd ever get used to people not hiding their moneypurses when I walked by.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” she asked. “To be able to just stroll quietly without being chased down by crazed peddlers or living statues or jackal creatures.”

“I dunno,” I said, not very convincingly, “I was just getting adjusted to life as a night bandit.”

Callie laughed. “So does that mean you're off to find your fortune as a master thief in training?”

“Um, no. If I've learned anything from this, it's that I don't have what it takes to make it as a thief, master or otherwise.”

I'm not exactly sure when that realization had hit. In the gaol at Cindervale? Trekking to Splitscar Gorge? I loved my family dearly and I loved the skills and knowledge they had given me. But my interests definitely lay elsewhere. I just wasn't quite sure how to tell them that. It helped that, for the most part, the Grimjinxes would be lying low with our illicit activities. But if I feared disappointing them because I was an incapable thief, I was even more afraid of telling them that I couldn't be one at all.

Callie must have read my mind. “So what are you going to tell your parents?”

“I'm going to tell them,” I said plainly, “there's something I don't
want
to do, but it's something I
have
to do.”

“Fate is a lazy man's excuse for avoiding curiosity.”

—
Sirilias Grimjinx, liaison to the par-Goblin Rogue Triumvirate

“L
et me go!” I cried, as the pair of brutish Provincial Guards threw me forward. I tripped on the transparent grass and landed with my face just inches from an empty space that once was home to walking, talking mushrooms. I wondered where they were.

The thunderous
chug-chug-chug
of the Dowager's steam-powered machines rang throughout the foyer. Nearby, the magical rain cloud that watered the plants rumbled, as if even it was angry to see me again. Oxric, the majordomo, stared down at me with his yellow eyes narrowed to mere slits.

“It's not what you think!” I shouted. “This is all a mistake!”

“Oxric, what is the commotion?”

The Dowager appeared at the top of the stairs, decked out in her leather uniform. As she pulled the goggles from her face, she gasped to look down and see me on all fours.

“These guards arrested the boy, ma'am,” Oxric announced, as the Dowager descended the staircase.

The first guard, looking menacing with a battle-ax in one hand, bowed to the Dowager. “Your Majesty.” He spoke loudly to be heard behind the visor of his helmet. “We found the boy in Vengekeep.”

The second guard, wearing a similar helmet, stepped forward and presented the chest of jewels that had been found among the “cursebreaker's” abandoned possessions. “We saw Your Majesty's seal on the box and knew this belonged to you,” she said. “We believe he was trying to sell these. He claims he was going to return them to you.”

“I was!” I said quickly, looking up at the Dowager with baleful eyes. “They nabbed me while I was leaving Vengekeep. I was on my way to bring them back.”

The Dowager looked down coldly and I could feel her disappointment burn into my skull. “You've done well, Guards. I assume the boy will be disciplined?”

“Oh, yes, ma'am,” the male guard said with a grunt. “Very stiff penalties for this sort of thing in Vengekeep. First, he'll be covered in sparkleeches—”

“What?” Neither the Dowager nor Oxric could contain their shock.

“Sparkleeches, ma'am,” the female guard said, wriggling her finger like a sparkleech. “All over his body. Then the meanest children of the town-state get to come spit on him and pull the leeches off.”

“That's barbaric!” the Dowager cried, clutching her throat.

“That's justice!” the male guard declared proudly.

“Dowager, please,” I begged. “I was going to return—”

“And after the sparkleeches,” the female guard said, “he'll be taken to the Vengekeep gaol and tied to the rack. He's a mite small, isn't he? Well, he won't be, after a good stretchin'.”

I cringed and whimpered as the guards took turns describing more of the horrific and grisly punishments that awaited me back in Vengekeep. When she first arrived, the Dowager looked ready to enforce any punishment herself. But as the guards continued—in very vivid detail—I could see her opinion on my fate change.

“You're treating him like a common thief,” the Dowager said in disgust. “Which … I suppose in many ways he is. But this boy has
potential
. You can't just take him and—”

“Castellan Jorn has already signed the papers,” the male guard said, shrugging. “He believes that if the thieves of Vengekeep are too dumb—”

“This is not a dumb boy,” the Dowager said. “He has a brain.”

“Oh, sorry, ma'am,” the female guard said, bowing her head. “We understand now. If you'd like to pop around and collect his brain from what's left when we're done with him—”

“Enough!” the Dowager shouted, tossing her goggles to the ground. She snapped her fingers and Oxric helped me to my feet. “You will not harm a hair on this boy's head. Because … this boy … is my apprentice!”

The ice that had filled my chest since my return to Redvalor Castle shattered when I heard her say this. I did my best to look stunned instead of happy. Which was easy because I was a little of both.

The Dowager took the box of jewels from the female guard. “Yes. My apprentice. As a member of the royal family, I am invoking my privilege to … to … not let you hack my apprentice to pieces. I asked the boy to sell the jewels … as part of an experiment. And … it worked. Very well. You're both to be commended for your duty. Wait here.”

The Dowager turned on her heel and strode from the room, Oxric close at her side. The second she was gone, I exhaled long and loud. “Well, that was easier than I thought.”

The first guard lifted his visor, revealing Da's smiling face. “You're just lucky she didn't agree to let us do all those nasty things to you. Mighty big risk you took there, Son.”

I looked to where the Dowager had exited and shook my head. “Not a chance she'd let that happen. We're too much alike.”

Ma poked her face out of the other visor. “You're sure this is what you want?”

The knots in my stomach twisted harder than when I first went to Ma and Da to tell them that being a thief just wasn't in my future. “Are
you
sure you're okay with it?” I asked in return.

Da set down his battle-ax and laid his gloved hand on my shoulder. “Jaxter, your ma and me knew from the time you were five, and you got your finger stuck in a lock you were trying to pick, that a life of thievery might not be right for you.”

“We've just been waiting for
you
to figure it out too,” Ma said, pulling me tight.

Holding Ma, I closed my eyes. Even now, tricking the Dowager into taking me back, it seemed like thievery would always be a part of me. Why couldn't it be a bigger part? “I just feel … like I'm doing something wrong. I keep thinking about the family album. All those Grimjinxes—”

“All those Grimjinxes were demonstrating exactly what they do best,” Ma said, lifting my chin. “Being a Grimjinx has never been about thievery, Jaxter. It's about doing what you love.”

“It's purely coincidence that, for most of us, it's stealing,” Da said with a sniff.

I wiped at the tears that had somehow accidentally fallen down my cheeks. “Thieving is all I know.”

“Now, Son,” Da said, “you wouldn't be half as remarkable as you are if that was true.”

The Dowager and Oxric returned to the foyer. Ma and Da hastily lowered their visors and bowed as the High Laird's sister approached. She handed them each a small drawstring purse that jingled with coins.