Fable: The Balverine Order (Fable) by Peter David Page B

right on the mark that Thomas had etched upon it. The boards offered no more resistance than would have a thick piece of paper.
    â€œOr you can just punch through the floor,” said Thomas with a faint sigh.
    He yanked up the floorboards, and there was an outraged squeal from beneath. There was the pack rat, looking up at them in great indignation, chittering at them and obviously scolding them for the intrusion. The northerner let out a roar like a wounded lion, and the pack rat, apparently realizing its precarious position, opted to bolt from there as quickly as it could. “I don’t believe it,” growled the northerner, staring down into the hole. He reached in, and his large hand emerged with a fistful of brightly glimmering trinkets. Most of them were more or less junk, but there were a few valuable-looking items in there. One of them was his ring, which he quickly slipped onto his oversized finger. And there was Thomas’s coin, which the northerner flipped over to Thomas, who caught it deftly.
    â€œWhat about the other things in there?” said James.
    The northerner glowered at him in that way that only a northerner could. “Adequate payment for my inconvenience,” he said.
    James was about to offer protest, but Thomas put a hand on his arm and shook his head, indicating that seeking further hostilities with the beefy man would probably not be in either of their best interests.
    Minutes later, they were back at their table in the main room. No one was saying anything to them. Some of them were even looking resentful, which Thomas couldn’t quite understand and said as much to James in a low voice.
    â€œMaybe they’re just ingrates,” said James with a shrug.
    â€œOr maybe,” said a low, clipped voice, “they would have welcomed a brawl, and you spoiled their fun.” The hawk-faced man who had been off in the corner had pulled his chair over to them and was now leaning forward, resting his hands on the handle of his cane. “Of course, they also know on some level that you did them a favor since that behemoth would undoubtedly have massacred the lot of them single-handedly. But they’d never admit to that. So they have no choice but to glower at you in vague dissatisfaction.” He paused and allowed a small smile to pull at the edges of his mouth. “A pack rat. You’re astute.”
    â€œWhat’s a ‘stute’?” said James uncertainly.
    The man stared at James for a moment as if trying to determine whether he was serious or not. Then, apparently, he decided it wasn’t worth the effort and turned back to Thomas. “Of course, if you had not become involved, I have little doubt that I would have been able to figure out the fate of the ring myself. But your intercession was welcome.”
    â€œWas it?”
    â€œYes. It saved me the minor effort of having to climb the stairs.” He inclined his head slightly in lieu of extending a hand to be shaken. “Quentin Locke. Pleasure to meet you officially.”
    â€œThomas Kirkman,” said Thomas, and he nodded toward James. “James Skelton.”
    â€œYoung Master Skelton,” said Locke, “seems to have taken a dislike to me.”
    Thomas looked questioningly to James. James simply shrugged, and said, “I don’t like boastful people.”
    â€œReally. Then you must have little patience with Heroes since they are renowned for standing upon street corners and declaiming their greatness for all and sundry. How will you be Heroes if you do not embrace the proper mind-set?”
    â€œWhat makes you think we want to be Heroes?” said Thomas.
    â€œWhy Thomas, don’t you know?” James said sarcastically. “Mr. Quentin Locke here knows everything. After all, he would have been able to figure out about the pack rat if he could only be bothered to climb a flight of stairs. He said so himself. Easy to figure things out after the