Chapter 7: Thief
Underfoot went back to watching the crowd. The booth to her right was selling forged items, knives, metal bits and pieces, tools and cutlery made from iron. It seemed to being a decent amount of trade. The booth to her left seemed to sell (and buy she noticed after watching for a while) just about anything. The counter near her showed cloth items, fabric, jewelry, carvings, a strange round device with little arms that moved across its face, and a stack of black and white discs. She had no idea what half the items were. She watched the dealer, a short man wearing an outlandishly bright vest, belt and sash that distracted from his dingy once-white pants and shirt. He spoke with a loud voice that she could hear even over the crowd and lots of wide sweeping gestures. She didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying, it mostly involved describing the items he had, or trying to sell them. She started watching his customers. They were a very odd group, some of them looked quite poor and brought items that appeared to be of some worth. Others were dressed decently well. One of them even looked vaguely familiar. This man was wearing a decent grey jacket with a clean, new white shirt underneath, a black hat with a stiff brim and had a bag slung over his shoulder. His face was clean and his hair fresh-cut above his ears. He was talking quietly to the seller, he reached into his bag and pulled out. . . the small mechanical bird that Farstrider had showed her the other day.
It was then the world came together and she recognized the man who was doing the selling. It was Lightfinger, all cleaned up. For a moment she just stood their, outraged, her mind processing. And then she flew out of her hiding place, swinging her fists at him and hitting him blindly, her eyes tearing up. “Your nothing but the thief. You took it from him! He was nice to us and you stole from him. How could you! How could you!” She shouted at him. Except it all came out in a torrent confused with sobs.
He seemed truly surprised for a moment, fending her off instinctively. And then he collected himself. “It’s not what you think, Chipmouse.” He said, he caught her in his arms and held her so that she couldn’t struggle. “My little sister.” He said to the dealer. “She gets a little excitable, and sometimes doesn’t understand what is going on around her very well.”
“All the same.” The seller said, nodding his head to indicate that Lightfinger should look over his shoulder. He did, swore, thanked the man and carried Underfoot off into the crowd. She was still squirming and struggling. “He was nice to us and you just took from him! How could you!” She continued to sob, getting quieter.
“Shh,” he hissed in her ear. “Or we’ll get picked up by the city guard.”
She turned to glare up at him. “That’s what happens to thieves, isn’t it?”
He relaxed a little. “Farstrider gave it to you. Since you wouldn’t take it I took to to sell. Even if you couldn’t stand to see that bird you could stand to have a new dress and some fresh food in your stomach.”
She felt a little foolish. Her anger was subsiding. When he put it that way it made perfect sense. “He gave it to you?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Yes, he gave it to me.”
She felt horrible. “I’m sorry Lightfinger. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I just saw you and it. . . and I assumed. I’m so sorry!” She started to cry again, this time from shame.
He shifted his grip so that he was no longer restraining her and patted her shoulder awkwardly. “It’s all right.” He said. He slipped down an alleyway and set her down. Checking to see if there were any guards after them. “No harm done.” He said, pulling her into a hug and petting her hair. “Just remember that I’m trying to help you.”
She nodded, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“You okay now?”
She nodded again.
He reached into his bag, and pulled out a piece of bread and cheese which he gave to her.
“You troubling that girl there?” A deep gravely voice broke the lull created as Underfoot devoured the food, tears still trailing down her face.
Lightfinger spun quickly to face the newcomer, a weathered man with scars on his face and dirty matted black hair falling down his back. His clothes were a ragged collection: shirt, tunic, vest and at least two different lengths of clothing, all of which seemed to have lost all traces of color. He was picking his black teeth with a rusty knife and tapping a heavy staff against the cobblestones. Underfoot noticed a couple pale faces peering around the corner behind the man, both Brightgrin and Clover were there, Brightgrin motioning for Underfoot to make a break for it while Lightfinger was distracted, and Clover had an uncharacteristic look of concentration on her face. Underfoot shook her head.
“No,” Lightfinger said. “Everything is all right. Isn’t it Chipmouse.” He said, looking back at her.
She nodded her assent. “He’s my brother.”
“Well then. That’ll be all.” The strange man said and walked back up the alley and turned the corner, without even glancing at the two children peeking around the corner. Brightgrin and Clover approached cautiously. “We were worried when we saw him drag you off like that.” Brightgrin said to Underfoot, casting a wary eye at Lightfinger. So we went to get the Beggar King and asked him to help you.”
Clover nodded, once again at Underfoot’s side. This time her hand caught Underfoot’s sleeve, the cat wound itself between her legs.
“The Beggar King?” Lightfinger asked, crouching so that he was more on their level.
Brightgrin nodded, looking pleased “The Beggar King is a legend. He helps beggars, particularly helpless ones. Children in particular. He watches over them and he makes sure they aren’t mistreated. When children are mistreated, or beggars are beaten he comes to punish those who are responsible. He keeps us safe.”
“I see.” Lightfinger said, looking a little unsettled. “Well, you have nothing to fear from me. Any friend of Chipmouse is a friend of mine.” He smiled reassuringly.
Brightgrin still looked a little wary, “You’ll have to earn our trust.”
“I look forward to it.” Lightfinger said with a bow. When he straightened he had a thoughtful look on his face, a few coins appeared in his hand. “Would you mind keeping an eye on the Library tower on Greenhand Street for me?”
Brightgrin’s attention focused straight on the coins in Lightfinger’s hand. “What you want that for?” He asked, tempering his greed with caution.
“There’s someone I need to talk to. Something I need to see in there. I like to know what is going on before I go into a place, you know what I mean?” Lightfinger smiled smoothly.
Brightgrin made a knowledgeable smile. “It might be a few more coins if you want to know who comes when?”
A coin disappeared from Lightfinger’s hand.
“Okay, okay!” Brightgrin said, making the coin reappear, his hand flashed out. A coin dropped into it.
“The rest is for when you come back.” Lightfinger said. “Now go on.”
The beggar-boy darted away. Underfoot expected Clover to follow him, but she stayed right where she was. She kept glancing at Lightfinger, a shadow crossing her face every time she did. Lightfinger stared after Brightgrin for a while, he shook his head slowly. “I remember when I was just like him.” He said. “Except my ‘Beggar King’ was a drunken father. . . ” He noticed Clover standing next to Underfoot. “I see you found yourself a friend.” He grinned. “Let’s get back home before it gets completely dark. I have a new dress for you.”
The dress wasn’t so much ‘new’ as in one piece and still identifiably intended to be blue, though it was faded to a soft blue-grey, which Underfoot found to be quite pleasing. After changing into it she felt completely different. The cloth moved smoothly over her skin, a sensation she had forgotten after wearing the same soiled dress for days. This dress also reached below her knees. She presented herself to Lightfinger, who seemed somewhat impressed. He cocked his head sideways and his face curled up in an unreadable smile. “It certainly is a vast improvement.”
When they settled down to sleep Underfoot found Clover bedding down at her feet. “You don’t need to be so close to me.” Underfoot said.
Clover shook her head.
“I don’t know who you think I am.” Underfoot said, looking at the little girl. “I’m nobody. Nothing, just another girl. You shouldn’t have to follow me around.”
Clover just sat there. Her lips didn’t move at all, but Underfoot heard her clearly. “But I do.”
The next day Underfoot spent following Lightfinger around, with Clover in tow, as he went various places around the city. She lingered outside a tavern while he went in to discuss some business or other with a man with a bald head and a bad rash. And then she went with him to several stores, where he bought things he quickly tucked into his pockets. And finally she found herself outside the Library tower on Greenhand Street. The tower was not the tallest thing on the street, which was one of the richer streets, and home to several guild-halls (as Lightfinger explained to her as they approached).
“In that tower is a book. A book that can teach me how to use my magic better.” He told her. “But the only way to get it is to steal it. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to be upset at me. And because I need your help.”
She nodded, it seemed reasonable. She didn’t want to let him down again like she had yesterday. Though she was a little worried about the stealing part. “They won’t just let you look at it?”
He shook his head. “Not without taking me and locking me up just because I can do magic.” He said.
“But doing magic isn’t illegal.” Underfoot said.
“It principle it isn’t. But you know about the ‘academy’.”
She nodded. “They take people who can do magic and teach them so they don’t hurt other people.”
“That’s where you are wrong. The academy is where the government sends normal mages under the pretense of teaching them to control their powers. But they do something else. They take away their freedom. They take your name and use you as a tool. I don’t want to be a tool. I want to be free. I don’t want the nobles making me do things I don’t want to do.” Lightfinger said.
“So you are telling me that we are doing something that might get us sent to jail so that you can be free?” She asked.
“We won’t go to jail.” He said. “Not if we do it right.”
Brightgrin approached the corner where they were standing and stood waiting expectantly until Lightfinger produced the coins again. He snatched them quickly and tucked them away. “A’right.” He said. “Two guys went into the tower early today. Came out a few hours later. The tower itself appears to be unguarded, though there is a fancy rune drawn on the door. The lights were all off last night, and are all off now. I don’t think anyone is there.” He said.
Lightfinger nodded. “Very good.”
He looked at the tower himself. So did Underfoot. There was indeed a rune on the door, but it didn’t attract her attention. The walls themselves were crawling with runes, just like the walls outside the city. Except that these were all the same symbol over and over, where the city walls had been long complicated strings that didn’t seem to have any pattern.
“I think the one on the door is just for show.” Lightfinger said. “But there is something, else magical around the tower. I figured the whole place would be warded. That’s why I brought this.” He pulled a necklace with a key on it from a bag, it too was glowing with criss-crossed runes that Underfoot couldn’t read. “It’s a pass-key that allows the penetration of magical barriers. I just hope my source is right in that it will work.” He handed it to Underfoot, she almost dropped it out of surprise. He knelt down. “I’m going to need you to climb through the window around the side of the building and unlock the building from the inside.
“Me?” She said.
“I won’t fit, and I can lift you up to the window.” He smiled. “Beside, I know you can do it.”
She felt a warmth in her chest. She could be helpful. The fact that she was involved in a robbery melted to the background. She would do whatever she could to make sure this went well. She clutched the key in her hand and then put the cord around her neck, the key bumped against her breastbone reminding her that she would have to succeed.
They began to move after dark. Lightfinger motioning for Underfoot to stay close as he walked up the street. When he saw that no-one was coming he motioned and they quickly dashed to the side of the tower, into a small alley. In the dark they would be nearly indistinguishable against the dark stone of the tower. The tower loomed over them. And Underfoot felt that the glow from the runes should have been more than enough to see them by, but to her surprise the light of the runes did not reflect on any of their faces. But it didn’t matter, no-one was around.
“Ready?” Lightfinger asked, cupping his hands to make a stirrup for her feet.
Underfoot nodded, looking down at Clover. “Stay here Clover. You can’t come up here with me.” Clover nodded. Underfoot looked up at the tower one more time and then put her foot in Lightfinger’s hands, placed her hands on his shoulder and she rose to the level of the window. It was a small glass construction, maybe two feet high and two feet wide with an arch above it. The runes moved along the window. She clutched the key around her neck and closed her eyes, hoping that it would allow her to pass through the barrier unnoticed. She reached out and touched the window, hoping that it would open. It shifted at her touch. She opened her eyes and found that the window had opened completely, and that the ward was still in place. She looked down. Lightfinger nodded. And she climbed through the window. She found herself on a spiral staircase that was completely dark. She went down the stairs a short way and found herself in a small entry chamber with a thick carpet and two chairs. Unlit candles sat in candlesticks on either side of the door. The door was large, and barred with a wooden cross-beam. She lifted it gingerly, not sure that she could make it move. But her strength was just enough. It took some effort, but it moved smoothly out of the way. She then opened the door. Lightfinger and Clover were both in before she could blink and the door was closed again. Lightfinger left the crossbeam off to the side, so that they could get out easily.
“Well done,” Lightfinger said. “Now to find the book.”
Lightfinger started to move into the main chamber on that floor, but Clover started up the steps. Lightfinger paused for a moment. then he shrugged. “You take her and look upstairs. I’ll start down here and work my way up.”
“What is the book called?” Underfoot asked.
“The Fundamentals of Magic” He said.
She nodded and followed Clover up the stairs. “Where are you going?” She asked quietly.
Clover pointed. A doorway. Beyond which was a library much larger than Sternbrow’s. Underfoot smiled to herself and ran forward. It was just like the old days. Sneaking around a library in the dark. Except that this time things would be worse if she got caught. And better if she didn’t. She realized. She looked around the library for a moment. Thinking how hard it was going to be to find one book in the midst of all of these.
But one of the books was glowing, runes running along its cover. And it was sitting on a small round table next to a chair. She looked at the cover. It read “The Fundamentals of Magic: A Primer of the Planes” She reached out to touch it.
And the world collapsed into a tunnel around her.
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