Glyphpunk Read online

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  By the time the sun came into view Augni floated in the shadow of a boat moored outside the harbour. Thjorn and Hadlaug were with him. The activity aroused by Thjorn’s artwork had reached the shore a short while earlier, closing off the road.

  Their obscured position gave a clear view of the dockside road arcing around the edge of the city. Longer than the road through the centre, it had more traffic than usual due to the closure.

  They grew alert as the heavily laden wagons set out from a warehouse compound, an escort of Society guards ensuring a wide berth fore and aft. Lacking horses the wagons were obviously glyph-powered, and would be glyph-reinforced to support their load. What wouldn't support their load was the section of road that was basically a reinforced pier. The road's wood was sturdy enough for most traffic, and would probably have handled the wagons had one of the supports not been weakened. The damage they’d done had been precise, so only one section gave way as the rear end of the first wagon passed over.

  The wagons behind stopped amid a flurry of calls, and a few crates tumbled out the back of the first wagon into the water twenty feet below. The wagon remained precariously perched, but it’d either have fallen or been secured by the time they got there.

  Submerging, they swam towards shore. The glyphs on the scarf around Augni’s mouth and nose tingled as he allowed himself to take his first breath under water. He felt compelled to breathe slowly, despite Thjorn's assurance they should last long enough to do the job.

  The waters grew murky as they approached the shore, rendering the glyphs on their cloaks hopefully unnecessary. He felt safer with them obscuring him from view, though.

  They'd have only a limited window before the guards checked the fallen cargo was secure. It was valuable enough that they’d want it recovered as fast as possible, but too heavy and sensitive to do so easily.

  No signs of other movement greeted them as they reached the shore. While the murkiness would hide their activities, it also limited their visibility.

  Thjorn led the way, never wavering or hesitating as he selected a crate. Hadlaug moved in with the crowbar, as Augni risked a peek at the commotion above.

  Heads poked over the edge. From what he could make out he didn't think anyone had spotted movement.

  The crate's end came off as he turned back, and Hadlaug made the damage appear due to the fall. Augni and Thjorn grabbed the contents: dark silver arvinim bars, a couple of inches high and wide, and ten inches long. It’s durability in inscribing glyphs made it highly valued.

  Relatively heavy, the bars they tossed didn't go far before dropping and sinking in the mud. That was good. It meant the two they were taking could be considered lost down there for that much longer. Given their value they'd never be written off, so a cooling trail was all they could hope for.

  They moved from the accident site along the shoreline, taking a good ten minutes to reach the deserted area they’d selected.

  It was still too early in the day for this area of dockland to have any activity, its warehouses used – if at all – for long term storage. So a quick scan of the area was all that was required before they surfaced. Augni hauled himself up the rope hanging from the dock, his waterlogged clothes dragging him down. Pulling the rope up after them, they scurried into an alley between warehouses.

  Skelldyn abandoned his pretence of scavenging among the discarded garbage. He joined them at his hand cart, from which he handed them dry clothes. He took the bars in exchange, hiding them within the pile of dubious provenance.

  Professionally nondescript and inconspicuous, Skelldyn’s air of nervousness disappeared in the sheer terror of a job, so he usually appeared bored. He left at a relaxed pace as they changed. He'd pass unquestioned even if he went right by the accident site.

  Hadlaug muttered about letting the valuables be escorted unarmed. Bulky, with his dark brown hair cut close to his scalp, he seldom trusted anyone out of his sight, and walked with suppressed violence in every step. Apart from the frequent occasions it wasn't suppressed.

  Fastening his sword belt, he favoured them with a glower before moving out of the alley.

  Thjorn and Augni weren't far behind, exchanging a brief nod before departing in different directions.

  Finally allowing himself to breathe freely, Augni kept watch for anyone spying on him, or following, which he doubted by that point. The theft had been the dangerous bit. His alertness was no more than usual for walking in this area, and that was a lot more relaxed than minutes ago.