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The minotaur’s fingers loosened around Cael’s throat but held him tightly. The minotaur shook him like a rag doll. “There’s no escape from me, little elf,” he growled.

“Kolav here is the finest sword in all the lands of Ansalon,” Oros said.

“All Krynn!” the minotaur roared.

“That’s funny,” Cael choked. “I always thought I was the finest. swordsman in all Krynn.” Suddenly, he found himself flying through the air. He landed squarely on his back, driving the air from his lungs and sliding to a stop against Alynthia’s foot. He looked up, wincing in pain, and found Alynthia gazing down at him, her dark eyes filled with hatred and disgust.

“Give him a sword!” the minotaur roared. “You heard him. He challenged me. I’ll eat his heart! By Sargonnas, I will!”

“Now is neither the time nor the place,” Mulciber growled impatiently from the shadows. The room grew quiet, and even Kolav seemed cowed by the sound of that voice. He retreated to the opposite wall and glared across the gloom at Cael. At a nod from Captain Oros, Alynthia helped the elf to rise and led him to stand before the alcove.

“What will you give for the life of this elf?” the voice of Mulciber demanded.

Alynthia paused before answering, her eyes darting to Captain Oros. Unspoken words flashed between them, and all knew this episode would be debated when the two captains of thieves reached their bedchamber. Captain Oros held the upper rank, but he would feel the wrath of his lady’s tongue if he didn’t accede to her wishes.

“With him, we shall recover one of the stolen Guild treasures,” she answered.

The other captains turned to one another and began to whisper. Captain Oros nodded approvingly to his lover.

“Which treasure? There are many,” Mulciber said.

“The Eighth Circle shall name it,” Alynthia said.

“Call Master Petrovius. We shall hear the list again,”, Mulciber ordered. Kolav opened a small door and roared the name of Petrovius into the darkness beyond. Soon, an ancient man came doddering through. His bald pate was covered with dark splotches, his eyes were milky, and when he smiled his lips parted to reveal a gaping black hole devoid of teeth. He seemed bent almost double, and he leaned upon a cane almost as gnarled as himself. He stopped beside Cael, facing the alcove, and bowed over his cane.

“Master Petrovius, eldest of all thieves, name for us again our lost treasures and tell us if you know where they are now and who has them, or whether they are lost in the mists of time,” Mulciber said.

“Shall I also name our brothers and sisters murdered on the Night of Black Hammers?” the old man cawed. “The list is long and long in the telling, for only three survived-myself, and young Captain Oros, who saved my life when he stole me from the Dark Knights who had captured me. The third we do not name, for it was he who betrayed us, and though he fled we found him at last and Captain Oros strangled his protests of innocence with his own hands, as was just and right.”

“I think not tonight, Master Petrovius,” Oros said. “It is to hear of the Guild treasures that we desire.”

The old man began to list each treasure, telling its value and when it was first won and the name of the thief who won it, where it now lay, or if it was lost. They were many and of all kinds: jewels, items of magic, famous weapons, artifacts both hideous and wonderful, but chief among them was the Founderstone of Palanthas. When it was mentioned, a great groan went up among the Guild captains, and even Cael felt a terrible temptation in his heart.

“Of course the Founderstone is beyond the reach of any thief,” the old list keeper said. “Sadly, in these lesser days, there is no thief capable of stealing it back. It is lost to us, unless the world should change.”

He continued on, naming now the lesser treasures, now the objects of art, now crowns and jeweled scepters stolen over the ages. Finally, his long list came to an end. Having exhausted his store of knowledge, he turned and doddered away, muttering something about his delayed breakfast. The Guild captains sat appreciatively in their chairs, as if they had just witnessed a favorite performance. During the old man’s speech, servants-apprentice thieves-had entered the chamber bearing bowls of fruit and platters of bread. Now stewards brought wine in tall flagons, and cups of silver. Each Guild captain was served, although the servants passed the dark alcove of Mulciber without a glance. When all had gone and a thoughtful silence reigned, finally the Guild captain from Kalaman spoke up. “My vote is for the Reliquary,” he said.

“Didn’t you hear the old man?” Oros responded. “On the Night of Black Hammers, the Reliquary was taken away by the Knights of Takhisis under heavy guard. It has not been seen since, nor has any word of it reached our ears. It should be counted as lost to us.”

“We could search for it. I suspect that it lies still within my Circle, the Third Circle of the city, in the Lord Knight’s house. Either there, or in the old temple of Takhisis in Captain Alynthia’s circle, the Seventh Circle,” he said stubbornly. “Besides, the Reliquary would be a challenge worthy of this supposed thief with talent.”

“Put the Reliquary out of your mind, I say,” Oros said. “It is far too valuable to remain in Palanthas, where the Knights of Solamnia might somehow find it. If the Knights of Neraka know whose bones it contains, as I assure you they do, it is probably hidden away in the deepest vaults of their stronghold in Neraka, far beyond anyone’s reach.”

The captain of the Third Circle reluctantly acquiesced.

“What say you then, Captain Oros?” asked the captain of the Fourth Circle, the Abanasinian Captain Wolfheart. Her circle of influence was bounded by Market Street-the only road in New City that ran continuously around the full circleof the city-and included areas as widely diverse as Smith’s Alley and the main Market of Palanthas, where the vast majority of the city’s riches were made and exchanged.

“I suggest the Potion of Shonlay,” Oros said. Surprised looks were exchanged among the other captains.

“That lies in the house of Mistress Jenna, a powerful red robe mage,” the Tarsian captain of the Second Circle, whose name was Jakar Jervanian, said. “That is within my Circle of the city. As you know, her house offers many difficulties. We’ve tried. That is why the dragonflower pollen was to be stolen from Master Gaeord before Mistress Jenna could get her hands on it and take it beyond our reach.”

“It can’t be as impregnable as the Tower of High Sorcery, from whence the Potion was originally stolen, long years ago in the Age of Might,” Oros answered.

“True, but those were better days,” Captain Wolfheart agreed. “Our petty thefts cannot compare to the heroic deeds of those times.”

“Still, it might be attempted,” the Captain of the Fifth Circle countered. Her name was Kristin Ladycandle, and she hailed originally from the city of Sanction. The Fifth Circle contained mostly residences and, where it neared the bay, warehouses. A good part of her Circle also included a portion of the wealthy merchandising district, which she shared with the Fourth Circle. Her territory was bounded on the west by Knight’s Candle Road, to the south by Silver Street, and to the east by New Itari Way.

“Aye, I like the idea,” the Captain of the Sixth Circle agreed. “It is time we began to exert our influence over this city again. What better way than to strike where few might imagine any thief would dare to break?” The Captain of the Sixth Circle was the only dwarven member of the council of thieves. He had the usual dwarven beard and stature. However, his pale complexion and the slightly wild (some said “deranged,” although not within his earshot if they valued their lives) glint in his eye marked him as one of the Daergar race. Some might call his Circle the least interesting of all the Circles of Palanthas, but Felthorn Bloodhand took pride in his turf. Under his domain lay the Old Temple District, as well as the Purple Ridge, home of the newly wealthy families of Palanthas, whom he had vowed to make “newly poor.” The Sixth Circle was bounded to the west by the Boulevard of Gold, to the south by the Avenue of the Sun, and to the east by Shipwrights Lane.