“Take his weapons, Renick,” said the dark elf woman, folding her arms and leaning to one side.

  “As you wish, Mireya,” said the wolfen with a shrug. He lumbered towards Friedrich, who took a step backwards.

  “My sword is not drawn and I’ve only got a shield in my hand,” said Friedrich, sliding his shield up his arm. “And even that is something I will release my grip on. But, I will not hand over my weapons to strangers. You already hold all the cards.”

  Mireya rolled her eyes. “Do you think you have bargaining power here, human? You may be a Mercian, we may be in Mercia, but in this guildhall, every single one of us has authority over you. We of Abnar’s Hand are not stupid and we are not going to let you keep your weapons.”

  “It’s fine,” came a booming voice from a shadow in the far doorway behind the thieves.

  “Redd, it would be unwise to let him inside with weapons,” said Mireya.

  A brown-furred wolfen with sleek fur and a pointed face walked into the chamber. “Then all of you give him a wide berth. I’ve seen this young man around the town in my ventures. His name is Friedrich and he frequents the market.”

  The wine vendor who Friedrich had recognised before raised an eyebrow. “That’s right…I’ve seen you with your father at my stall, haven’t I?”

  “Yes,” said Friedrich, knowing there was no point in lying now.

  “My name is Redd of the Vale,” said Redd, turning around and beckoning Friedrich to follow him. “We will have a conversation in my office away from prying ears. Don’t worry about these lot, they won’t harm you without my say so. Right, my friends?”

  There was a murmur of reluctant agreement and Friedrich relaxed a little. Apprehensive as he still was, he believed Redd meant what he said. As for what his intentions were, Friedrich could only guess, but there would be no doubt a lot of questioning and swearing to secrecy under penalty of death.

  He hurried through the chamber to catch up with the wolf-like man, who was already halfway through the treasure-filled chamber. He led Friedrich into a corridor at the right of the room and brought him to a small door. He reached for the handle, twisted it, and gestured for Friedrich to step inside as the door opened.

  “Thanks,” said Friedrich, believing he might as well be polite to avoid invoking the ire of the thieves further than he already had with his trespassing.

  Redd’s office was a small room with a desk laden with papers, shelves filled with books and sacks of kupons, filled to the brim. Redd shut the door and sat behind his desk, leaning over it, and nodding towards the chair at the far side. Friedrich indulged him and sat down.

  “You thought you would have a little jolly and sneak into this guildhall, did you?” asked Redd, his voice a low growl. “You’ve got no shortage of courage, Friedrich. I also dare say a large dose of foolishness.”

  “You said you’ve seen me around town before. Do I stand out that much?”

  Redd let out a low chuckle. “Does that need asked? I’ve had my eye on you for a few days already, Friedrich. Do you truly think your transformation into a minotaur would go unnoticed when you attacked one of our people? A spider too, eh? That is most curious.”

  Friedrich’s heart sank. He should never have transformed in front of the thief. How stupid of him. “He tried to steal from me,” he said. “Was I supposed to let him get away with it? Let him think he could try again another day?”

  “That is not my concern,” said Redd, waving a dismissive hand. He flashed a cunning smile. “What I’m interested in is what you can do for us with your powers. But first, I must ask you, why did you sneak into our guildhall? I have my suspicions, but I would prefer to hear the words from your mouth, Mercian.”

  If Redd of the Vale wanted something from him, then he had some leverage to use in getting what he wanted. “I’m here because of the attack on the Church of Myrofyr.”

  Redd leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “That was not what I expected you to say. I thought you were here to join us and put those transformation powers of yours to good use. You passed the first test in finding the guildhall already so you’re well on your way.”

  “I don’t want to join you,” said Friedrich. “Did you hear about the attack.”

  “There is little that goes on in this city that I don’t hear about, so yes. What does it have to do with us?”

  “It was one of your members behind it.”

  Redd snorted. “Rubbish. It’s a breach of our rules to attack religious institutions. It’s caused some controversy in the past, but nobody here is stupid enough to attack the church.”

  “Not even one of your wood elves?”

  “Not even…hmm.” Redd looked deeply contemplative for a moment before shaking his head. “Do you have any evidence of the involvement of our members?”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Friedrich clenched his fist out of sight, suspecting Redd was going to brush him off. “Eye witnesses. Two of them.”

  “And are these eye witnesses tied to the church?”

  “I’m not going to tell you who they are, but I trust them when they say one of your wood elves attacked the church.”

  Redd cracked his knuckles. “Without anything more solid than that, Friedrich, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “Then, I’m afraid our business is concluded here,” said Friedrich, arising. “If you’re unwilling to help me then I’ll not lift a finger to help you with whatever you want me powers for.”

  “Easy now,” said Redd, lifting his hands and gesturing for Friedrich to sit back down. “Naturally, if a member of ours broke a rule, we can throw them to the wolves. Of course, I cannot administer punishment without hard evidence of their involvement. I am, however, not unwilling to have the matter looked into further…for a price.”

  Friedrich was apprehensive about getting involved with Abnar’s Hand, but Ilyria came to help for help. “And that price is?”

  “We have many skilled infiltrators in our midst, but transforming into a spider? That presents opportunities for us. If you will perform a task for me, I will see what involvement, if any, our members had with the attack on the church.”

  “And how illegal is this job?”

  “How illegal do you think?” asked Redd with a snort.

  Friedrich sighed. “I cannot agree to the job without knowing what it is you want me to do.”

  “I would like you to help me steal an artefact from Lord Fleur’s private vault. He has a large manor at the edge of town and, try as we might, we cannot slip past his defences without later getting rumbled. He is the one who causes our guild the most grief and, if we use an outsider like yourself, we can truthfully wash our hands of the theft…outside of being in possession of the artefact, of course.”

  Friedrich hated this already. “And what is the artefact? Is it something dangerous?”

  “It is merely a tool. How it is used is up to the wearer. It is a special mask that allows the wearer to change faces. Naturally, this would be very useful to Abnar’s Hand.”

  “It’s a soul mask?”

  “Heh! No, it’s not a soul mask. Although, that question tells me where your abilities come from, Friedrich. This mask is something else. It belonged to one of our founding members, Louis Fontaine. He died centuries ago and we used his mask to gain power and riches until it was pilfered by the authorities after a job gone wrong. Eventually, it made its way into the hands of the Fleur family who hid it away a few decades ago. It is about time it was returned to us. You bring me Fontaine’s Face, and I’ll help you.”

  “This…doesn’t feel right,” said Friedrich, wrestling with what to do.

  “Right? Of course it isn’t right, Friedrich. We’re thieves. It’s what we do. Is it a moral thing to do? No, of course not. Is it beneficial to the guild? It most certainly is, and that’s our primary agenda here.”

  Friedrich closed his eyes and bit his lip. He hated being in this position, but he had agreed to help Ilyria. Not only that, but if his father was to remain safe in the city, having Abnar’s Hand’s favour was something he sorely needed.

  “Fine,” he said. “But I cannot agree to the task without full assurance that you will help me weed out the attacker. He is to never cross my path again, nor is he to trouble anyone at the church again.”

  Redd smirked. “Tell me, young man. Who do you think this attacker is?”

  “You already know, don’t you?”

  “I want you to confirm if my suspicion is correct.”

  “A man named Caldorin, with some involvement from his brother, Corick.”

  Redd chuckled and shook his head. “Those foolish bastards. Yeah, it’ll be them alright. They like to throw their weight around sometimes and it isn’t the first time they’ve dragged our name through the mud. The fact they haven’t been excommunicated before boggles the mind.”

  “I want your assurance that you’ll deal with them if I bring you the mask. What did you call it? Fontaine’s Face?”

  Redd slid open one of his desk drawers and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. “You want assurance?” he asked. “That can be arranged with ease.”

  He dipped the quill in black ink and began scrawling the words. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he wrote. Towards the end, he smirked and plodded a thick full stop on the page. He set his quill down and tore off the rest of the parchment before presenting the contract to Friedrich.

  “This contract,” said the wolfen, “is an assurance of our mutual agreement. It stipulates that if you fulfil the assigned task, namely, the retrieval of Fontaine’s Face, that I will orchestrate Caldorin and Corick’s removal from the guild, presuming they are indeed guilty of the attack on the Church of Myrofyr. The deadline for both of us is one week from today. I presumed you would like to get this whole ordeal over with quickly.”

  Friedrich read over the contract. That was indeed what it said and there did not seem to be much wiggle room. Redd of the Vale was very blunt in his writing. “I agree.”

  “Steady there,” said Redd, reaching into his drawer and pulling out another quill. “You must sign it.”

  Friedrich took the quill and moved to put it in the ink, but Redd slid the pot away. He tapped on the paper with a hairy finger. “Write.”

  The second Friedrich put quill to paper, he felt peculiar. He scrawled his name in red ink and set the quill down with a shaking hand. “Is that my blood?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes,” said Redd. He took the quill and signed underneath Friedrich’s name. “And that is mine. Should either of us break the terms of the contract, we will die.”

  “Die?” asked Friedrich, springing to his feet. “If I don’t obtain the mask, I die?”

  Redd looked perfectly calm, smiling faintly at Friedrich. “That’s right. Don’t worry, Friedrich. With powers like yours, it shouldn’t be a problem. You’ve got the stealth of a spider and the brute strength of a minotaur. Slip your way inside and break open the door. Easy as can be.”

  The wolfen stood up, walked over to the door, and opened it. He gestured for Friedrich to leave. Once the young man had done so, Redd led the way back through the guildhall. The many faces of the members watched him as he left, all eyeing him with great suspicion. Mireya looked on in disbelief as Redd escorted him past. Redd silently guided Friedrich back to the staircase leading upwards. The two came to a stop at a dead end, halfway up the stairs.

  “You know where to find us when you complete the task. Should you have need of us or have any questions, leave a lit candle on your balcony and I will respond. You can ask as much or as little as you want, but I expect to be notified when you are about to make a play for the mask. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” said Friedrich, feeling sick to his stomach about the whole prospect.

  “Good,” said Redd, twisting a torch in the wall. The ground rumbled and light filled the tunnel as the dead-end wall descended, forming a dozen steps that led into the fountain. “And Friedrich?”

  “Yes?” replied Friedrich.

  Redd held a finger to his lips and whispered. “Not a word about the whereabouts to the guildhall. I wouldn’t want your father having a mishap.”

  Friedrich wanted to cut Redd’s shaggy head from his shoulders on the spot, but he knew better than to do that. He simply nodded and ascended. Once he was standing in the fountain, the stairs vanished, leaving him feeling like he’d made the worst decision of his life.