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Half a year later found me crouching behind a barrel at the entrance to an alley. I watched closely as my mark fished some coins from the pouch that hung heavily from his belt. This was going to be too easy. The man turned back to the street, and I snuck out behind him. A slice from my dagger, and the pouch fell into my hand, disappearing from sight when it touched.
The man must have felt the pull at his belt, because he slapped a hand to his hip and whirled around. I grinned to myself and eased back into the alley as his furious gaze passed right through me.
When I was sure nobody would come looking down the alley, I allowed myself to become visible again and examined the contents of the pouch. It was heavy, all right, but most of the coins were plain iron - nearly worthless. Still, I caught a flicker or two of copper, and maybe even a steel coin. It would be enough, for now.
As you may have guessed, my life consisted of pilfering coin pouches from unsuspecting city residents. Yes, I was nothing more than a petty thief, but at least living on the streets I wouldn't make the mistake of trusting anyone. You might think it was dangerous work, being a thief. But with my particular skills, it was trivially easy.
I knew a little about Scouts. One couldn't live in Insen without having some familiarity with the Asylum. Able to move silently, invisibly, not leaving a trace behind - that was me, all right. After a couple months of living on the street I had learned to draw on this ability at will. Should I have turned myself in to the Asylum? Probably. But to be honest, I was afraid that it would bring me back into contact with people. I didn't want that. Can you imagine me being Joined with a Qui? Having someone in my thoughts?
But the pickings on the streets were slim. Most people didn't carry any more than a couple of dachals in coins at any time, which wouldn't even rent me a room at an inn. Any money I made went immediately towards satisfying my stomach, and even then I was half-starved most of the time.
Not for the first time, I touched the flower inside my jacket and considered how much it would get me. Probably a nice room and meals for a month, at least. Well, maybe it would have if it was still alive. It didn't even glow any more, and was little more than a wilted reminder of what trust could cost me. Maybe I should have sold it earlier.
I sighed and poured the coins into my own pouch - securely fastened to my belt - and turned back to the street to try and spot my next mark.
Sometimes I considered going back to the manor and trying to get another flower. It wouldn't be that hard, and even if he had locked the gates, another would surely be open, which would have its own treasures.
I don't know what convinced me this time. Maybe I was just sick of living in an alley. Maybe I wanted more excitement than pick pocketing gave me. Maybe it was the realization that I could be stealing from people who could afford it, rather than the few coins of the ones who came to market.
Maybe I just wanted to relive that evening - imagine what might have been.
And so I once again found myself outside the gate of the manor, hiding in the shadows of night.
It was just as I remembered it - though this time I wasn't fearing for my life. Confident in my invisibility, I strode through the front gate with an arrogant stride and a small smile. Both faded as I entered the garden. My mind was briefly taken back to that night, running along the path, hoping to break through the line of guards. The sting of the betrayal that had left me trapped here.
I took a deep breath and turned away from the garden. There were bound to be other, more valuable items inside the manor - maybe even ones that wouldn't lose their value after a week. Only problem was, getting inside the place would be somewhat more difficult than getting into the garden, since the doors would likely be closed. As awesome as my abilities were, they didn't extend to passing through solid objects.
I circled the house slowly, making my way along the path, while considering my options. I could wait until a door opened, and try to slip in behind someone else. Main problem there was if I bumped into someone. I was invisible, not untouchable. Even if I could escape, they'd know someone was there, and the last thing I wanted was every Qui in the city out looking for me.
Of course, I could try to open one of the doors myself when there was nobody around. If it was locked, I had a lock picking set I had picked up from a locksmith's pockets. But the guards were watching pretty much the whole time, and I didn't trust my skills with a pick enough to take that chance. Besides, even if I could distract the guards and open the door, I had no idea what was on the other side. I'd probably end up walking into another set of guards.
I tilted my head back and looked at the manor wall facing me. It was a warm night, and several windows were open, emitting a soft light. If I could only reach them, I'd have my entrance. I took a moment to analyze the scene. Yes, there was a tree I could climb. Okay, from there I could reach the wall, but - ah, a ledge!
Within a few minutes, I had a route leading up the wall to an open window - one without light streaming out of it, lucky enough. I waited until a patrolling guard had passed by, then swung up into the tree. It was the place where I had to be the most careful. While I didn't leave any footprints, the tree still shook as I climbed it, which would look slightly suspicious to anyone walking by. Fortunately, I made it all the way to the window without being noticed.
And it was barred.
Clinging to the wall by my fingertips, I almost laughed at the situation. Of course it was barred. What kind of idiot would have open windows without bars on them?
Well, for one,I realized as I thought about it, an idiot who didn't want to get burned alive if the place started on fire. In other words, there must be some way of opening the bars, in case a rapid exit was needed. All I had to do was find it.
A couple of seconds of searching later - difficult in the dim light - revealed what I was looking for. A small lock, on the inside of the window. Thanks to my skinny arms, I could reach it through the bars, barely. I hooked one arm through the bars and fished around in my pocket for my lock pick set. This was going to be tricky.
The lock was small, so there was only one pick that would fit alongside the tension tool. In addition, I could only reach it with one hand - the other was supporting my weight. After some juggling of the tools, I found a contorted hand position that would allow me to hold both. I soon found myself hoping that it was a simple lock. I hadn't had much practice, and if it took more than a couple of minutes, I was afraid my arm would snap off.
Fortunately, the lock only had two pins. It was just a matter of lining them up properly, which took less than a minute of experimentation. The lock must have been spring loaded, because it popped open - knocking my tools to the floor in the process. They shimmered into view as they passed out of my bubble of invisibility, and clanged to the stone floor.
Movement from inside the room caught my eye. With my attention focused on the lock, I had failed to notice one important detail - the room wasn't empty.
I froze as I peered into the darkness of the room. It was difficult to see, but I could make out enough to tell that it was a bedroom. Movement again. There, from the bed. Motionless I hung, afraid to touch the lock for fear that the movement of the bars would be enough to rouse the figure from the comfort of the covers.
I waited as long as I possibly could, until my arm could no longer support my weight. It felt like there was going to be a permanent dent in the bone by the time I finally got inside. Convinced that the room's resident was back asleep - a conclusion supported by the snores now coming from that side of the room - I pulled the locking bar up, releasing the bars.
With a loud creak, the bars swung outward, carrying me with them. If I thought my position was precarious before, I was forced to revise that opinion now. In addition to hanging fifty feet off the ground supported by a grip that had been failing five minutes ago, the hinges has made enough noise to wake the dead. I fully expected the entire manor to light up and guards to point at the window while whoever was in t
he bed raised an alarm. Invisibility wouldn't do a damn bit of good then.
But before I could worry about that, I had to worry about not making a very messy corpse on the path below me.
Shifting my weight, I swung back in on the bars - making another loud creak in the process - and managed to hook my leg over the windowsill. With a grunt and a heave, I landed with a thump on the floor of the room. I released my invisibility - it was dangerous to hold it for so long - and lay there for a moment, waiting for the shouts, the pounding of feet on the stairs.
Silence, broken only by snores, told me I had somehow avoided notice.
It was a moment more before I realized that, if I didn't close the bars, someone would notice sooner or later. I clambered to my feet and tried my best to ease the bars closed. They made a few more creaks and groans, but if the sleeping form hadn't noticed the earlier disturbance, it was unlikely they'd awake now. That done, I slipped the locking bar back in place, but didn't lock it. I wanted an escape route, and didn't want to have to deal with picking locks again.
I surveyed the room. It was nearly empty, aside from some books and other odds and ends - nothing small and valuable. Hopefully the rest of the manor was not so sparse. An oddly sweet smell seemed to hang in the air
Not wanting to push my chances with the sleeping figure, I decided on exiting the room as soon as possible. That plan did, however, pose a problem of it's own - I had no idea what was on the other side. I crept to the door and pressed my ear up against it.
Silence.
I hesitated for half a moment before crouching down to look through the keyhole. The only thing it told me was that there was nobody standing directly in front of the keyhole. Making sure to go invisible again, I opened the latch and eased the door open. The hallway I could spy through the crack was better lit than the room, and appeared to be empty, so I further opened the door to the point where I could slip through.
I glanced down the hallway, and jumped when I saw a man standing at the end of the hall, not twenty paces away, and moving toward me. As carefully and quietly as I could, I pulled the door closed again.
Click.
My eye twitched as I tested the handle. Locked. And my tension tool was lying on the floor inside. Cursing myself for an idiot, I fled down the hall to avoid the approach of the man, while hoping he wasn't going into the room I had just come from. My heart leaped into my throat as he stopped in front of the door and drew a small key from his pocket. Briefly, I debated tackling him, but what was I going to do, kill the guy? Aside from the moral dilemma, what would I do with the body?
Opening the door only slightly, the man poked his head into the room. I didn't even notice I was holding my breath until he pulled his head back out and closed the door again. A slight smile had appeared on his face, which marked him as a father -I'd never had that look directed at me, but I still knew it.
I let out my breath as the father turned and made his way back down the hallway. Luck was on my side, it seemed. If he had shown up even thirty seconds earlier, I'd have been caught for sure. I was just glad he hadn't spotted the tools on the floor.
Turning back to the reason I was there, I started opening doors and inspecting rooms. Oddly, none but the one I had come in appeared to be locked. That may have been due to the fact that most appeared abandoned, containing only covered furniture or old decorations. Neither of which would be suited to sneaking out with. I needed something small - jewelry would be ideal. Another door held nothing but a single fireplace with a stack of wood and a small chair.
Rich people were strange.
Finally, I found myself at the end of the hall, in front of a large set of double doors. There was no sound coming from within, so I pushed one open a crack and peered inside. A single torch lit the most lavish bedchamber I had ever set my eyes on. I beamed as I closed the door behind me and let myself become visible again. This was the place I was looking for.
I took my time perusing the room, like it was a shop displaying its wares. A small box sat on a short dresser - it held nothing but earrings. I grabbed a few of the more valuable looking ones and stuffed them in my pocket. Another box had necklaces, from which I drew a long gold chain which connected to a small ruby studded with what appeared to be diamonds. That went in my pocket too, alongside the earrings.
I wanted the theft to go as long as possible without being discovered, so I only took one or two pieces here and there from around the room. Had I taken any more, I don't think I would have been able to walk. As it was, I found myself wishing I had brought a sack.
I was poking around in a small box of bracelets when I heard noises outside the door. Cursing, I snapped the box shut and went invisible just as the door opened and let in the man I had seen earlier, with a woman on his arm. Though I couldn't place her, the woman looked oddly familiar. With a smile on her face, she crooked a finger at the man as she sat on the end of the bed. Returning the smile, he closed the door behind him.
It wasn't until I had to dodge out of the way of his shirt that I deduced their plans for the evening.
Had I been visible, my face would no doubt have been bright red as I spun around to face away fom the bed. In desperation, I threw a glance over my shoulder at the door, trying to find a way out. There was little hope. No doubt I could make it to the door without being noticed, but I doubted I could get it open enough to slip out without being noticed - even as ... distracted as they were.
The windows were barred and locked too, so there was no escape there. A moan from the bed drew my involuntary attention, and for the next ten minutes I was transfixed by the foreign ritual of intertwined limbs and sweaty passion.
Yes, I watched. I was a thirteen year old boy - of course I watched. It didn't seem anything like I had imagined it would be. Quite the opposite of my romantic fantasies, it was short, frenzied, and messy. One more bit of my youthful idealism crushed in the throes of reality.
When it was over and the man had extinguished the torch, leaving the room in pitch blackness, I carefully made my way to the door. I released my invisibility - I couldn't see two feet in front of my own face anyway - and waited. And waited some more. When I was sure they were both asleep, I continued to wait. Only after twenty minutes had passed with no more sound than a snore coming from the bed did I slip my invisibility back on. With an unusual foresight, I realized that I'd need the key to get back into the room I came in so I could get back out again. Fortunately, I had noticed where the man's pants had landed, and a few moments of fumbling later put the keys in my hand. Only then did I carefully move back to the door - without tripping over anything, amazingly - open it, and slip out.
In the hallway, I let out a long breath. That had certainly been an experience. Dreading what else could go wrong, I wasted no time in making my way back down the hall and to the door - my exit. It only took a couple of tries to find the right key, which I left in the lock as I entered the room and closed the door behind me. The same slight snores coming from the bed told me that my presence still went unnoticed.
As quickly as I could, I crossed the room and scooped my tools back up. Luckily, on this side of the building, the moon shone in the open window, making it easy to see. The lock pick tools went into my pocket, and I slid the locking bar out. The bars swung out silently, and I smiled as I removed my fingers from the hinges. At least that experiment had been a success.
As I prepared to make my escape, I glanced around the room one more time to make sure I hadn't missed anything. A beam of moonlight had entered through the window and fallen across the bed.
Illuminated by it, snoring gently, was Pellia.