You remember that little statue you picked up the first time you entered the room?
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
Its name is Ungor. When you need it to appear in full, say “Ungor Egeiro.” Got it?
She nodded again and turned back around. The two other thieves were watching her with dispassionate attention.
“Here,” she said, walking over to the toad statue. She picked it up and tossed it to the one who had been talking to her so far. “The old man said it was worth money. Consider it a peace offering, huh? Maybe keep Kite from hitting me again?”
The thief examined the figurine and shrugged. He placed it in his pocket. “Kite does what he wants. I won’t let him kill you, though.”
“Thanks, that’s a big comfort,” Skate said. She left the library, carrying Petre in the palm of her hand. Kite and the other three were busy rummaging through the wizard’s belongings. She felt another flash of anger when she saw Kite pocket the golden enhancer from Belamy’s desk. She went to her coat and slid Petre within before putting it on. She also pulled on her boots.
Kite turned his attention to her. “Ready yet? We don’t have all day.”
“We’ve got at least a few hours, and you know it. He’s going to the Baron’s district, and it’ll take him a while to find who he’s looking for.” She got the second boot on and got to her feet. “All right, let’s get it.”
Skate walked over to the hidden staircase and activated the false book. The case unlatched and swung forward. She raised the collar of her coat over her face and was about to step down when Kite spoke up again.
“Wait,” he said, his smile gone. Something about her confidence and what she was doing had unnerved him. While she was nervous, he was in control. Now that she was confident, he didn’t trust her. He pointed to two of the thieves who had secured Rattle. “Follow her. Make sure there’s no way for her to get out.”
These other thugs did as ordered. Skate said through her collar, “You might want to cover your face until we get the vents open down there. The work he does is hard on the eyes, otherwise.” The thieves followed her lead and covered their faces with their shirts. She led them down.
The coat helped but didn’t get rid of the eye-burning effect of the vapors completely. Skate pointed to the levers of the vents, and the thieves moved to shift them and begin airing out the room. While they were busy, Skate reached into her pocket to place her hand on Petre’s prison. “We’re in the lab,” she muttered.
Petre’s voice resounded in her head as if he were speaking right into her ear. You’re going to want to mix cockatrice bone dust with calcified spider’s eggs. Both white powders. High shelves. Barrison keeps one in a blue jar, the other in green. Get out of the room as soon as you mix them.
“All right, you two. I need you to look for a key to this door,” she said, as businesslike as possible. She knelt in front of the closed door and took out her lockpicks. She inserted the tools into the proper place, knowing full well she was picking an unlocked door. “I’ll try to get through without it, but it’ll be easier if you get the key. He keeps it in either a blue jar or a green jar, way up top. The jars are usually full of flour.” She did not turn to look to see if her words were being heeded; she had to focus on “concentrating” to sell the lie. After a few moments, the sound of glass scooching on heavy wood filled the room. She continued pretending to attempt to conquer the lock, muttering at her continued failures to do so.
“In here?”
Skate turned and nodded. The scar-faced ruffian held a blue jar filled with white powder, slightly smaller than the flagons they used in pubs. “Dump it there,” she said, pointing to the middle of the room, “so none of the flour touches anything else in here. If it’s not in there, look for the other jar.” She returned to her performance. The rattle of the empty jar rolling across the floor echoed quickly from wall to wall.
“Nothing,” scar-face said, and the sound of glass on wood resumed.
Eventually, the other thief in the room said, “Hey, I think I got the other jar. I don’t see no key in here, though.”
She turned and saw this other fellow, pimply and pockmarked, shaking a small green jar of white powder, holding it up to one of the room’s magical lights to get a better view. “It’s small. Just dump it with the rest of the flour and get it out of the stuff. This stupid lock is giving me too much trouble.” She put the tools away in her coat and stood up, waiting by the door with apparent interest in seeing the key pulled out of the pile of white. The pimply man poured out the “flour” into the other pile, sifting through the powder with his hands and creating a mixture of the two substances. “Both bottles empty?” she asked, placing a hand on Petre’s globe to make sure he knew she was actually talking to him.
“Both bottles empty?” You weren’t supposed to mix all of it together! Get out of the room, now!
It took her long enough to register the words that she saw the scar-faced man nodding as he looked for the key. “There’s no—hey!”
Skate shot through the storage room door and closed it behind her, leaning against it with all her might. They’re gonna break it down; I can’t hold against two grown men. This isn’t gonna work; it isn’t—
Skate was thrown backward from the door, getting the wind knocked out of her as she collided with a busted old dresser. She looked up, expecting to see two very angry thieves ready to knock her silly. Instead, she saw what looked like very thick wooden spider webs crisscrossing in every direction in front of the door. The webbing stopped at the threshold of the room and covered about three quarters of the doorframe. Inside the lab were cries for help, muffled as if being shouted from underneath several layers of blankets.
Skate got to her feet and scratched her head. With her other hand, she pulled out Petre. “What did I just do?”
“Alchemy,” Petre said, turning his eyes to look at her handiwork. He was no longer hiding his voice. “It’s a mixture that creates a very fast-acting adhesive. It’s not advised to use the reagent in such volume,” he added, turning back to look at her, “but I should have explained that. Speaking of explanations: What is happening? Who are these people?”
“They’re thieves. They’re here to steal the thing that Mr. Belamy has put his soul into, to try to force him into service for them.”
“They what?!” His eyes widened in shock. “How do they even know he has one of those?”
“Because…” She winced and forced the words out. “I told them. I was supposed to steal it for them.”
“What?”
“I’m not gonna; that’s why I needed your help,” Skate said, casting her gaze frantically around the room for the statuette. She saw the blue gem of the woman’s small staff peeking through the drawer she’d left it in. She scrambled over the detritus of the storage room to get to it. “They’ve already caught Rattle upstairs. I need to get it free before we get out.”
“Stop!” Petre shouted. Such was the power in his voice that Skate did stop, though she was only a few feet from the small statue. The display case for the war robes stood open and empty nearby. “Skate, you’re here to steal from Barrison? After all he’s taught you, after all the time—”