There was once a king who loved gems, and had a personal collection of the largest gems ever seen: an emerald, amethyst, moonstone, onyx, diamond, and sunstone. The king loved his collection, and gave no mercy to anyone who attempted to touch, take, or steal his gems.
One night, knowing how protective the king was toward his gems, the greatest thief in the realm stole the unstealable: the king himself. When she pulled the hood from the king's head, he found himself bound in a dark cellar. The master thief greeted him. "Your grace," she said, with a mock bow. "It is my distinct honor to inform you that your freedom will soon be forfeit, if you cannot name the six thieves whom you murdered for the so-called crime of liberating your precious gems and giving them to the peasants who needed them most."
"I," the king began. "I never . . ."
"I shall jog your memory, then," said the master thief. "You caught and killed one of them while he was delivering your great emerald to the river village below Erstfort."
The dagger at his throat jogged his memory even further. "Ah, yes. I recall. Aerwald the Slow," admitted the king.
"Yes," coaxed the thief. "What about the flawless amethyst?"
"The, uh, yes. Amethyst was her name. Why would she steal her namesake gem just to give it away?"
"Because she was flawless as well, your grace, and had not the pride to keep such a thing for herself."
Not sure how to reply, the king continued cautiously, "my perfect moonstone was stolen by Ryne of Justice."
"Of Fleahollow - until you burned it simply for receiving Ryne's gift. And you burned Ryne as well. I shan't forget."
Determined to beat the thief at her own game, the king went on. "Silas Silvertongue. He . . . he stole the giant diamond. Such a beautiful . . . " the king thought better of admiring his diamond presently, ". . . woman such as yourself could surely live a queen's life with the giant diamond? Free me, and it's yours!"
"Your grace," said the thief with a shy chuckle, "you flatter me. But I would never keep such a treasure for myself. Such is the folly of royalty!"
"But the legendary onyx! I cannot recall the thief's name, but she did not die! I spared the life of its thief and sentenced her to life in the dungeon . . ."
"My sister? You did not kill her, no, but she spends her days as a corpse: in the dark, beneath the ground. So to secure her release, your legendary onyx has been stolen a second time: by me, as ransom." The master thief produced one of two items from her knapsack: the legendary onyx.
"Let me go and I will free her!"
"I'll consider it, if you complete my request."
"What about the gods' sunstone? It has never been stolen, and cannot be stolen. It is my most precious! You hold my life at stake for six murders, when only four have died for their trespasses!"
"Five by my count, and you have named but four."
"She dwells in my dungeon . . . my legendary onyx . . . Redwood! Lina of Redwood! She is the fifth, and you say she is your sister?"
Anger boiled in the master thief's eyes.
"Then you must be from Redwood too," the king said with a wicked grin. "I have given you five names, and only five gems have been stolen. I have bested you at your own game, thief! Free me at once!"
The thief held up her knapsack, with a large, heavy globe inside. "And where do you think your precious sunstone is now?"
The king seethed. "You . . . you touched my sunstone? You stole my sunstone!? The sunstone of the gods? I will find you and your family in Redwood. I will have your name, and I will have your head! And your sister's too!"
The thief brought the knapsack down hard, on the king's head. "That's six, your grace. But I don't think you'll be able to speak my name. Not anymore." She dumped the rock out of her knapsack, and admired the legendary onyx in the candlelight.
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