REPEAT: The Aldonn Chronicles 1x03 "A Stroll through the Market

PART ONE

PART TWO

1x03 “A Stroll through the Market”

Released on http://www.patreon.com/99geek on July 2017

There was a groan from the bed as Sean Meunier’s large form shifted unconsciously in his sleep. Rolling over, his flaccid dick flopped onto his round gut to rise and fall with each snore. Richter watched with bemusement, reaching over and shifting his boyfriend’s parts to grant him a little more modesty.

Richter couldn’t help but smile with a mild mirth, endlessly entertained by the one good thing still in his life. Richter remembered how hard things had been for their relationship before he’d gotten his promotion, before he’d been granted his own living space and the two of them had to share the barracks’ bunk cots with the rest of the guild. During that time, all his belongings could fit into a small locker. Now his living quarters were strewn with doodads and collectibles he could care little for. Most of them were junk Sean collected from their jobs, and it was for him that Richter even bothered to keep them around.

Despite how much better things were for him now, and Sean for that matter, Richter couldn’t help but miss the times before the regime change, before the death of their old guild leader and the rise of Lee Durgens. Richter had never been the materialistic type, and had always lived for the guild. With the shift of power, Richter was now one of the oldest remaining members, behind Bartholomew. Well, and Lee, who was older than him but had also been recruited at an older age. He was also now one of the few people who could remember the way things used to be done. Before the extortion and cruelty. Before taking advantage of innocent people. Back when their relationship with the town guard was a simple one.

Richter grabbed his pipe from his bedside table, not for the first time since they’d retired to bed, and lit the tobacco with a match. Drawing deeply, he closed his eyes begging for sleep to come. Outside his door there was a commotion, and he let out his breath, knowing that he’d not be sleeping again tonight. Kissing his boyfriend’s forehead, and careful not to wake the dope as he got up, Richter slipped on his boots and a long black silk robe.

He opened the door as quietly as he could, closing it behind him to join a surprising number of people already up and about in the senior lounge. In a large corner of the lounge, by the door to Lee’s quarters, the guild leader’s sister and third in command August was practicing reps with her spear. She had forged the head of the spear herself, making it almost more like a halberd. From the end of the halberd, however, extended a long blade, like a spearhead or even short sword on a stick.

Richter had seen August in combat and knew she was unimaginably deadly with the weapon. The worst thing someone could do was underestimate her. He’d seen opponents step back and think they were out of her range, and then with a twist of the handle the blade would extend to twice its length. And that was just one of many tricks she had up her sleeve.

It was for that reason that Richter was glad he’d never had to face her in combat. If he was lucky, he never would.

“What time is it?” he asked the dark haired August who hadn’t even acknowledged him.

“Considering the last time I checked the moon,” August said with a spin of her polearm. “I’d say it might be almost five now.”

“Hells,” Richter cursed, making for the kitchen where a pot of hot water was boiling on the fire. He ladled some into a mug, and poured the water through a filter filled with ground coffee beans. “You can’t sleep either?” He grabbed his cup of coffee and took a sip, feeling the hot brew travel all the way down his throat. He closed his eyes and released a satisfied groan.

“I don’t sleep at night,” August told him, not bothering to even look at him between reps. “I catch about three hours usually between nine and noon.”

“On purpose?” Richter asked with incredulity. He was starting to understand why she was always so grumpy.

Lee’s second in command, the oldest member of the Thieves Guild, returned from elsewhere in the HQ with a large box full of what seemed like random junk. As Bartholomew entered the lounge, he eyed Richter’s robe humourously.

“Didn’t come in pink?” he taunted Richter.

“Fak off,” Richter told him, trying to catch a glimpse of what was in his box. That must have been the commotion he’d heard. “Where’d that come from?”

“Special delivery,” Bart said, placing the box on the kitchen table August had pushed aside to do her training. “From Natter himself.” Bill Natter? The head of the city guard? What was he doing stealing for the Thieves Guild?

“Prison spoils?” August asked in such a way as if stealing from inmates was somehow less sport. Nonetheless, she stopped swinging her polearm around long enough to straighten and join them around the table. Her long dark hair had whipped into her face where it had gotten stuck to the sweat she’d worked up. Her dark eyes were often too much for Richter to gaze into. They were brown but, like Lee’s eyes, hers were so dark they might as well have been black pits.

“The boss wanted to go through things first,” Bart said, with a glance to Lee’s door. “He’s been looking for something.”

“Do you know what it is?” August asked Bart.

“He hasn’t told you?” Richter asked, surprised how much their leader was keeping things close to the chest this time.

“Yeah I know,” Bart told them, almost gloating. He was clearly not about to share.

As if on queue, the doors to Lee’s quarters opened and Lee stood there in the doorway, looking at each of them in turn with his very own black pits almost identical to August’s. He had a round face, and short spiked dark hair. It was rare for him not to be wearing his signature shades. He was always dressed snazzy, even (it seemed) at five in the morning as he was in a neatly pressed dark green suit and neck tie. Without his sunglasses, and his tie loosened around his neck, that was as casual as Richter had ever seen him.

“It’s arrived,” Lee said, and it wasn’t a question. He stepped past them to the box and quickly rummaged through it. “Did you see it?”

“I didn’t see any amulet boss,” Bart told him. The oldest member in their guild was also the only one with greying hair, and was easily almost twice Lee’s age.

Richter noticed something in particular, and reached in to pull out a leather jacket. “This is Frankie’s,” he said in recognition.  He imagined she would be wanting it back. “Are you thoroughly convinced now that she wasn’t the one that stole your whatever? Amulet?” He didn’t even know what amulet Lee was referring to.

“Pity,” Lee said in his strange cadence, not immediately hearing what Richter had said, and giving up his search through the box. It was only when he noticed Richter was looking at him that he seemed to click that Richter had been talking to him.

“Frankie’s gone,” he told Richter with what sounded like cold finality. “And if she didn’t steal the amulet, the remaining suspects on my list are far more disturbing.”

“Well we checked her locker, as well as one of her safehouses,” Bart told his boss dutifully. Richter wondered why he hadn’t been included in the search. Was it cause they knew of his sympathies towards Frankie? Did they know he’d met her? “The safehouse we knew about anyway,” Bart continued on the matter in a mutter.

“So do we let her back in?” Richter asked their guild leader.

“We’d have to break what’s left of her out of the worst prison in Memroxia,” Bart said, with a smile growing on his face that Richter wanted to punch right off.

“Gods,” August said with a disgusting face at Bart that matched how Richter felt, before turning to her brother. “What did you do?”

“What if she got out?” Richter asked, trying to be as vague as he could. Everyone looked at him anyway. This sort of political posturing was way too difficult at five in the morning.

“She won’t get out,” Lee said assuredly.

Bart didn’t seem so convinced. “What do you know?” he asked Richter.

“I’ve heard rumours of a prison break in the countryside,” Richter told him, telling them nothing he wouldn’t have known had he not already met with Frankie.

“Was that her?” August asked Richter as if she had any reason to think that he’d know. He gave her a face.

“She’s not out,” Lee said. “The place broke her like it breaks everyone.”

“She did nothing to you,” Richter’s temper snapped, shocked at how Lee was talking about his guildmate. “It would be moronic to make an enemy of her.” He was starting to wish he’d gotten dressed before leaving his quarters to get in a shouting match with their guild leader.

Lee smacked the table and knocked the box onto the floor. Everyone looked at him, but he didn’t speak for a good moment. In the silence he looked around the room, taking a deep breath through his nose. “She’s a stupid little girl, not a threat.” He looked around the table. “Not anymore. Her ambitions are gone with the rest of her. Be happy we didn’t get a hold of her first, lest her torment have lasted for years.”

“Excuse me?” August asked her brother with a snarl. “She was my friend.” The opposite in fact was true, they often showed visible hatred for each other. Richter was glad to see that when it counted August chose loyalty to her guildmate over their past personal feuds.

“You’re the only woman I can trust—“ Lee started to say.

“Because I’m family?” August tried to finish his sentence.

“No,” Lee said with a shake of his spiky head. “because you’re pure of heart.”

Richter almost laughed and he saw August’s mouth drop. Lee didn’t seem to know his sister well at all. Pure of heart was the last thing anyone would ever say to describe her. She may look like a young pale frail girl barely twenty years old, but she fought like anything but.

Richter was spared saying something he would come to regret when a member of the guild, he was pretty sure the man’s name was Cody, came stumbling into the senior’s lounge. Richter wasn’t sure if the man’s long dark hair was wet from grease, or blood. It looked like he’d hit his head pretty hard on something.

“We have a problem,” Cody said to them, trying to join them at the table, though with Lee’s glance he stepped back. “Sir…”

“You’re in the wrong lounge Mr. Blake,” Lee said, he pulled his shades from a pocket in his suit jacket and put them on.

“He didn’t report in from collections yesterday,” Bart told Lee.

Lee seemed to study what Cody was carrying with him. His hands were empty. “Where’s my money?” Lee asked the guildmate.

“And if you’re going to hang here much longer,” August said, grabbing a towel from the kitchen and throwing it to him, “try not to bleed on the furniture.”

“I was chasing one of our clients, Kimmy” Cody started to explain to them. “She was running, trying to avoid payment. I cornered her in an alley when I was set upon by a woman.”

August looked again at the gash in the back of Cody’s head. “A woman did that to you?” she asked impressed.

“He’s my lieutenant,” Bart growled to her. “You let a woman do that to you?” Had it been Frankie?

“I slipped,” Cody said, and Richter had no way to know if that was true. “By the time I came to, both women were gone.”

“I find the timing to be most curious,” Lee said, and Richter could almost hear the gears chugging behind Lee’s sunglasses.

“You can’t really think this has anything to do with your amulet,” Richter said, growing impatient with his erratic guild leader.

“Richter—“ Lee said, about to give an order.

“Richter?” a voice called out from behind Richter. He turned around to see Sean Meunier, in a neon blue robe, clearly just woken up. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Yes,” Richter lied.

“Sean,” Lee said across the table. “You’ll go with August and Cody to bring in the woman who missed her payment. If the other woman shows up, I’m sure the three of you combined can handle her.” Having apparently slummed it with the rest of them enough, Lee turned on his heels and went back into his quarters.

“Am I allowed to get dressed first?” Sean asked as the doors closed behind Lee, looking down at his robe.

“Preferably,” August said turning towards her quarters. “We leave at noon.”

“And there she goes,” Sean said as August closed the door to her quarters. “What do you think she’s up to?”

“Don’t mind her,” Richter said. “It’s almost her bed time.” He looked down at his hands, almost forgetting he was still holding Frankie’s jacket. Bart hadn’t forgotten. He snatched the jacket from Richter’s hands.

“Hey!” Richter exclaimed.

“I’m keeping this.” Bart told him, cruelly.

“Lee said I could have it.”

“To give to your boyfriend?” Bart asked. “He’ll only stretch it out. I’ll put it to far better use than that.” He slid the tight leather jacket over his scrawny, and greasy, shoulders. “You know this used to be owned by the legendary thief Benjamin Sharpe, right? They say he could hit a target with a knife from a mile away without looking.”

Magical items were often passed down from person to person, surviving for generations even after their original owners were dead. There were a lot of magical items out there, not necessarily just enough for the rich. Not everyone had one, but enough people at least knew someone with a magical item that it was a common occurrence in their lives.

Richter knew Lee wouldn’t have any interest in Frankie’s jacket. After all, Lee had his own special knives with powers of their own. Bart on the other hand didn’t have anything like that to give him an edge, and Richter knew he’d been eyeing Frankie’s jacket for a while now. Long before Lee had perceived her an enemy. In fact Richter had to wonder if Bart might have had a part to play in Lee’s sudden obsession with Frankie. The second in command did have her guild leader’s ear.

 Finding a mirror on the wall, Bart looked himself over with a grin. Twisting his wrist, a knife fell from his sleeve. He tried to catch it but missed and the knife fell to the ground, along with three more. They started pouring out of both sleeves.

“Shit, how do you stop this?”

“Try not to cut yourself,” Richter said bitterly, leaving Bart to it while he led his boyfriend back to their quarters.

“We’ve still got hours before August needs you,” he told Sean, wondering if Lee had picked Sean to go specifically to punish Richter for calling their leader a moron. “More than enough time for me to pound that ass.”

“Gross,” Bart muttered from the lounge, and Cody made a similar face as he left for the barracks. As Richter closed the door to his quarters he knew with confidence neither would be trying to listen in through the wall.

“You okay?” Sean asked, already deducing why Richter had talked so crudely to him. “What did I miss?”

“Lee is getting more and more concerning,” Richter warned his boyfriend. “He was ready to leave Frankie to die. He seems to be caving in with paranoia.” Richter grabbed Sean’s hand and drew the sexy hunk of meat in for an embrace. “You know, I can’t resist you when you wear that robe.”

“Well you were wearing yours,” Sean said, and they kissed so that Sean’s peach fuzz tickled Richter’s chin. “So what do we do?” Sean asked as they parted.

“What we always do,” Richter said, holding Sean close. “Put each other first. Watch each other’s backs. If Lee’s going to bring down this guild, we can’t let him take us with him.”

“YOU should be leading the guild,” Sean said to Richter, pressing his head against Richter’s chest. “You know you’re MY guild leader.”

“There’s something about that amulet,” Richter said, his mind wandering. He didn’t like to spend much time fantasizing about things that couldn’t be.

“What amulet?” Sean asked.

“It’s what Lee’s lost,” Richter told his boyfriend. “I don’t know if it’s magical in any way. I’ve never known him to be this secretive before.” Normally the guild leader couldn’t stop talking about anything and everything. His ideas, plans, ideologies, frustrations… poetry. It was one of the many things he shared in common with Frankie. His inability to shut up.

“So,” Sean said, trying to distract Richter by leading him to the bed, “do you want me on all fours, doggie style, on my back? Or are we just gonna stand here and cuddle like a couple homos?”

*     *     *

Penelope could barely see Manejo through the crack in the door, but still she watched him intently from the hallway, quickly looking around her to make sure no one was watching.

The coast looked clear.

It was pretty careless of Manejo, her father’s new magical advisor, to leave the door to his quarters open when he clearly wanted privacy. At least that was what she would tell anyone who found her. They didn’t need to know she had followed him back to his quarters and quietly opened the door again without him noticing. She had to do it slowly, millimeter by millimeter until she could only just see inside. Most the doors in the castle often gave a loud squeak when you moved them too fast.

Manejo seemed to be distracted, standing over a caldron on an open fire, something she was pretty sure didn’t come standard with the room. What he had done with his bed, she couldn’t see, but she could make out shelves and shelves of books and what looked like ingredients to brew his potions. Some of the ingredients didn’t look far removed from spices she’d seen in the kitchens.

Manejo pulled a jar of something from one of those shelves and sprinkled some of its contents into his caldron. The liquid bubbled and frothed, the room flashing with light momentarily before darkening again.

What had been that light? It was day outside, but Manejo’s window was covered. The only light in his quarters came from the large open fire and a few other candles. But the light she’d seen for a split second had been bright white and had seemed to have come from the liquid itself. The liquid in the caldron was now glowing a bright green.

Suddenly a gloved hand grabbed Penelope by the jaw. She tried to scream and struggle, but the hand was very firm over her mouth. Next she tried to bite the man’s fingers.

“Shh,” the man said quietly from behind her, his voice sounding old and familiar. His other hand grabbed her stomach and pulled her rather roughly across the hall into another room. The pressure he put on her wound hurt, but he couldn’t have known she was still nursing a wound in her abdomen from a fight she’d gotten into only the day before.

The man released her and she turned around to view her captor. It was the head of the city guard. “Mister Christopherson,” she said his name indignantly. “I’m a princess. How dare you handle me like that?”

He seemed to have dragged her into a room with other senior members of her father’s council. She recognized the young and often charismatic Duke Howell. It was rumoured that he had used his immense family fortune to manipulate and bribe his way to a title and a seat on her father’s government. He had short neatly trimmed black hair and a thin moustache over a sickeningly optimistic grin.

Another person she recognized in the room was the older and experienced Colonel Sinclair, foreign advisor to her father. He’d fought in multiple wars before her father even took over fealty. The only other person in the room she recognized was the master treasurer, a dainty older woman with narrow glasses that always sat on the very end of her nose. Penelope had always felt like the older woman was being condescending towards her with every look.

“Look,” she tried to explain to the group. “It was pretty careless of the mage to keep his door open like that. In the interest of privacy I was only reaching in to close it.”

“We’re not here to punish you for spying on Manejo,” Chris Christopherson said for the group.

“I wasn’t spying,” Penelope insisted.

“In fact we want to encourage you to do it more,” Mr. Christopherson continued.

“I told you I was only being a champion for privacy – wait what?”

Colonel Sinclair stepped forward. “We share your concern that the King’s judgement might be compromised by the Mage Council.”

Penelope glanced to the treasurer. “You too, Ms. Button?” What concern did the money have with all this?

The Master Treasurer Claire Button pushed her glasses further up her face only for them to fall forward again. “Not as much,” she admitted to the princess. “But the men thought it might help to have a woman with them upon ambushing you in such a way.”

“Thanks for that,” Penelope muttered.

“You’re being modest Claire,” Duke Howell said, flashing a pearly white smile. “Tell her what you were telling me last night.

Penelope could have sworn she saw Ms. Button blush. “The coffers are almost empty,” she told the princess. Everyone else in the room gave the woman some space, and she leaned against the dusty unchanged bed of the long abandoned guest room. Over time, more and more of the staff had been let go, accounting for more and more rooms like this one being abandoned and closed off.

“The kingdom is teetering on the very precipice of bankruptcy,” Ms. Button continued, her mouth wavering between polite smile and frown. “Your father’s known for years now, and yet he’s done nothing to slow our growing expenditures.”

“With his options dwindling,” Duke Howell took over, “We are most understandably concerned at what drastic measures might seem reasonable to him.”

“There is no logic or reason to be found in the actions of a desperate man,” said a dark skinned woman Penelope didn’t recognize, stepping from the shadows.

“Who are you?” Penelope asked the woman. She had hair so short she was almost bald, and large hooped earrings that seemed to weigh down her entire earlobe. Until she’d spoken Penelope had assumed she was a man.

“Dutchess Reila of the Fifth District, your highness.” The fifth district was known to many as Beggars road. It was actually much more than just a road, unlike much of the sixth district, and was home to most the lower income housing. Being close to the steep mountain their city had been built beside, the district rarely got direct sunlight. There were seven districts in total, with district one making up the area around Capsin Keep. It included the Royal port. The Market District was District three.

“If you’re so worried about what my father will do,” Penelope told the group of them. “Why don’t you just ask him?”

“We’ve tried,” Dutchess Reila insisted. “He won’t talk to any of us. He keeps everything to himself now. Himself and that mage.”

“You can go places we can’t,” Duke Howell said, flashing her his signature grin. “It’s not like you weren’t already curious.” He picked up a quill and tapped it on a wooden desk against the wall. “We just want you to keep an eye on Manejo, try to figure out what some of his motivations are.” He tapped the quill to his ear. “Listen in on some of his conversations with the king. Try to suss out what the king might be planning. Then come back and report it all to us.”

He handed the quill to her.

“It might be wise,” Colonel Sinclair said, speaking up for the first time in a while, “if we do not meet all together like this again for a while. It might arouse suspicions.”

“What kind of suspicions?” Penelope asked rhetorically. “Like you all might be conspiring behind my father’s back?”

“You might possess a certain level of immunity from his wrath,” Duchess Reila told Penelope, who was starting to like the purposeful way the woman talked. “We, however, do not.”

“I haven’t even said I’ll help you,” Penelope told the group, looking for a window so she could gauge the time. The room had none.

“Will you?” Captain Christopherson asked her, grabbing her hand. Though his words were concise, his eyes begged her with a desperate plea.

“I’ll think about it,” she told them, pulling her hand from the captain’s grasp. They all seemed incredibly disappointed.

“For now, I have somewhere else I really need to be,” she tried to clarify before leaving them in that abandoned guest room to squabble amongst themselves. It hadn’t been a lie.

Leaving the room without another word, and passing Manejo’s room without a glance, Penelope took the stairs two at a time until she got to her floor.

“Roric!” she said her butler’s name, excited to have found him on the way to her quarters.

“I’ve already told the king that you are too upset from your previous conversation with him to join him for lunch.”

“You’re the best,” Penelope said, patting Roric’s shoulder and then, as she passed, kissing him on the opposite cheek.

“I presume you’ll be headed out again,” Roric said, moving to follow her. “So I took the liberty of shredding up some of the chicken they were serving for lunch into a sandwich. It’s still warm.”

She took the sandwich from him. “You’re working too hard,” she told him, quickening her pace.

“I also thought I’d re-bandage your,” he said loudly after her, stopping to cough. “War wound.”

“I really don’t have time for that,” Penelope insisted over her shoulder, trying desperately to leave him in her dust. If he kept at it she was never going to leave.

“I managed to acquire some padded bandages,” Roric pleaded with her, managing to keep up. “They are of greater strength than the ones we have been using. It might seem on the surface somewhat frivolous, but they would hold the stitches together more effectively should you choose to get in any more scuffles.”

She stopped in her tracks. “I suppose that would come in handy,” she conceded to him, taking a bite out of her sandwich. It was really good.

They got to her quarters, and she sat on the bed, finishing her sandwich and kind of wishing there was another. Almost as if on cue Roric pulled a second sandwich from the tray he’d been carrying. The bandages he pulled from somewhere in his sash.

“You know I care about you, your highness,” Roric told her, pulling off the old bandage. It hurt as he had to peel it off the stitches. Penelope almost screamed but bit into the sandwich instead.

Roric had always been like a father to her, at least more of a father than her real dad had ever been. “I really care about me too,” she told him. “But there’s a woman out there that I know I can help.” Penelope looked out the window. The sun was almost at its highest point. “At least I know I can do something. And I know that if I do nothing, that woman is probably going to die. And I don’t even know what would happen to her daughter.”

“So I don’t have a choice,” Penelope told him, not sure why a tear was rolling down her cheek. “Not really.” She said firmly. “I have to go out there, or it’s as good as my fault.”

Roric pulled tight on the new bandage, pinning it in place. “You’re a better person than your father,” Roric said to her.

“You think I was adopted?” she asked, only kind of joking.

Roric chuckled. “If only I hadn’t been there at your birth.”

*     *     *

“Wake up sleepy head,” a woman’s scratchy voice said in the dark. “You know there’s a stereotype,” the woman said to another person in the room. “Of the sleepy guard. When I was younger me and my friends used to run around the city trying to catch guards who were sleeping at their post—“

The events of last night were slowly coming back to Edward, in pieces mostly. And each one came with a throbbing pain behind his eyes.

“We would take their hands,” said the woman, though she sounded more like a whiny kid to Edward, “and place them in bowls of water. Of course you know what would happen next.”

“No,” a deep male voice said from Edward’s other side.

“They’d piss themselves,” the woman explained. “It was awesome.”

“I’m awake,” Edward said, opening his eyes to find the thief from last night at his bedside, a glass of water in her hands. She took a sip of it innocently. Edward had to wonder if she’d already done her trick on him, he was pretty sure he smelled pee somewhere.

The bright lights of the room blinded him, his head throbbing as he tried to sit up. He laid back down, and the thief leaned over him.

“How’d you do that with your hair,” Ed asked, still groggy. Her hair was short and spiky, looked so sharp like you could cut yourself. He reached out, but she slapped his hand away.

“Thieves Guild secret,” she told him with a lopsided grin.

“Oh my head,” Edward muttered.

“See,” the thief said to her blonde partner. “I told you it looked weird.”

“I’ve got a hangover,” Edward corrected her with irritation growing.

“It’s too round,” the thief said, ignoring him. “And flat.”

“Where are we?” Ed asked the blonde man in the room. He seemed to remember the man’s name was Aldonn.

“Janice gave us a room,” The short woman said. “We couldn’t pay her though, so it’s a used room. She warned us she hadn’t gotten to the sheets, and we’re pretty convinced the last guy peed in them.”

“Gods dammit,” Edward swore, peeling himself from the bed. He was shocked to find he was naked. He moved to quickly cover his pillar and stones with his hands. “Where the hell are my clothes?”

“I stripped you,” the thief said. Edward was pretty sure her name had been Frankie. “But in my defence you threw up all over your uniform.”

“We stripped you together,” Aldonn assured Ed.

“And I only spent a really short amount of time playing with your dick,” Frankie said, and Edward hoped she was kidding. “I just like flicked it a couple times,” she said, miming with her hands. Edward looked down to where he was cupping his privates.

“She didn’t do that,” Aldonn insisted. “She’s just playing with you.”

“Played with it like a tennis ball,” Frankie said, pretending to bat his dick back and forth with her fingers.

“Just stop,” Edward begged her.

“There’s a warm bath in the other room,” Aldonn told Edward.

“And I stopped by the market to get you these,” Frankie said, showing him a pink tunic and trousers on a hanger.

“They’re pink,” Edward muttered.

“Told you he wouldn’t like them,” Frankie said to Aldonn.

“He picked them out?”

“No,” Frankie clarified. “But I told him you wouldn’t like them.”

“I think they’re dashing,” Aldonn said, and Edward wondered if the large muscular man might be a little slow upstairs.

Edward took the hangar from Frankie. “You realize I’ve got my own place right?” he asked her. “With my own bed and my own clothes.”

“Well you didn’t exactly volunteer that information last night,” Frankie told him.

“You were too drunk,” Aldonn explained. He didn’t blame his drunk self. He wasn’t sure he’d want a thief like Frankie snooping around his belongings. Edward made for the bath in the other room.

“I call this one the ball bouncer,” Frankie said to Aldonn. “I just like get em underneath,” she continued miming her fingers underneath what Edward assumed was his ball sack, “and bounce em like so and then the dick sorta flops off the balls. Right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Aldonn told her. “But it sounds right.”

*     *     *

It was a hot bright day, uncharacteristically warm for a day so close to winter. That didn’t seem to stop the never ending bustling crowds of the market district, swarming the shops and vendor carts that lined the roads of the third district. There were so many carts and shops that they pushed far beyond the market, both along the high bridge over Capsin Ravine, as well as the opposite way into the sixth district, the commercial district.

Penelope looked down off the side of Capsin’s Royal bridge, one of only two bridges over the ravine that separated east and west Capsin. The drop was very steep indeed, and at the bottom were violent rushing waters amongst jagged rocks. No one had ever survived such a fall.

Pulling herself away from the edge of the bridge, she made for her favourite stall, and called out to her favourite street side chef.

“Ren!” she called. “How’s the old dog today?”

“No dog,” Ren said, shaking his tongs at her. “But I’ve got rat. Almost as good.”

“I’m actually not hungry,” Penelope told him, glad she’d eaten before she left. “Do you remember that girl that I went chasing after yesterday?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning in close as the masses passed behind her.

“No,” Ren said, crossing his arms as well. His were much larger than hers.

“Well her name is Kimmy,” Penelope told him, hoping that would jog his memory. He matched her glare and didn’t move.

“You’re not leaving me alone about this, are you sunshine?” Ren said at last.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Of course, your highness.” Ren made a rat sandwich for a customer, handing it over and taking the customer’s bronze coins. “You’re moi Sunshine.” She wasn’t sure what that meant, but his sigh was one of relenting. “I didn’t know the woman’s name, but she’s hit up my stall a couple times maybe. Saw her frequent there more.” He pointed across the street and down a few blocks to a vegetable grocer.

“Thanks,” Penelope told her friend, dropping a silver coin on his stall. “I’ll hit you up next time for sure.”

“You shouldn’t get yerself involved with these kindsa people,” Ren called after her as she lost herself into the crowds. She’d been hearing that a lot. That she was in over her head. That she should give up. Quit. Turn back. Not yet. Not until she knew Kimmy was safe.

She found an old lady inside the grocer, packing shelves with fresh lettuce.

“Excuse me?” Penelope said to the old lady. The woman had her scraggly graying hair tied in a bun. Looking up from the shelf, she smiled distractedly at the princess before continuing with her stocking.

“I’m looking for a woman,” Penelope told her.

“You’ve found one,” the old lady said. Penelope hated that joke.

“Her name is Kimmy,” Penelope tried to elaborate. “She has a daughter. She’s a little shorter than me. Sturdier. Long black hair like mine.”

“I know of whom you speak,” the old lady said, abandoning her stock to take a customer’s money. “She comes by a lot. Often struggles to pay her bills. Often has to put things back.”

“Do you know where she lives?” Penelope asked the woman.

The old lady shook her head. “Never deliver to her,” the lady explained while counting out the customer’s items. “She always pick up.”

Penelope swore, but the lady wasn’t done.

“She have friend,” the lady said. “I deliver to her. Work out of house on corner of Bay and Maple.”

That was in the Commercial district, near the border of the Market District. Bay was the city’s main road, travelling from Royal Bay all the way to the East wall. “What sort of work?” Penelope asked the woman.

The customer gave Penelope a look very similar to the one the old lady was casting her way.

“Only one type of work comes out of that house,” the old lady told Penelope. “The house on Bay and Maple.”

*     *     *

“What are we doing here?” Edward asked Frankie, following her and Aldonn into the market district. “I thought you said you already hit up the market this morning.”

“Yeah,” Frankie told him over the loud noise of the masses, “this morning before most the shops opened. I was only here for a haircut and to get you those duds. You look flashy by the way. Still nothing to be done about your head, though.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my head,” Edward insisted.

“I’m sure your mommy told you that everyday,” Frankie joked.

Edward put a hand on her shoulder and squinted past to see the royal bridge down the road from them. “My place is just over that bridge in the first district.”

“See,” Frankie said, patting Edward on his back. “So close you could almost reach out and touch it. Promise we’ll swing by after I meet with my contact. It’ll be like a big slumber party.”

Frankie turned them off the main road that ran from the Royal Port all the way through to the Sixth district. Instead she led them down a side alley to another road with some lesser frequented shops.

“We’re going to a fountain,” she told them. “It’s been our spot for years.”

“Our spot?” Edward repeated, but Frankie didn’t tell him any more, spotting the residential building she was looking for. Pulling on a latch, she opened the gate beside the modest house, and let them into the small but beautifully maintained garden. The fountain there was tiny, only as big as maybe a bird bath.

“This is your spot?” Edward asked, looking around unimpressed.

“You own this?” Aldonn asked, more impressed.

“An old retired soldier maintains this lot,” Frankie explained to her friends with a shake of her head. “Lets kids come and play here as long as they behave.”

“You’re not a kid,” Edward criticized her.

“No,” Frankie admitted. “But I was once.” She could remember times in her youth when she would come there to play, times when it had seemed the only safe place for her.

“Frankie!” A young girl’s voice yelled, and Holly came running from her hiding spot behind a brush to give Frankie a big hug.

“Holly!” Frankie yelled, happy to see her friend again. Holly was ten and a half years old, and was really getting tall. Frankie had known her since she was a baby.

“I didn’t know if you’d ever come back,” Holly said quietly into Frankie’s ear. She pulled the kid away to get a good look, quickly looking her over for any bruises. She was clean. “I came here every day and waited for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Frankie apologized to the young girl. “I was otherwise engaged.”

“This is your contact?” Ed asked, again unimpressed.

“This is Holly,” Frankie told them. Aldonn got down on his knee and offered the girl a hand.

“I’m Aldonn,” he said to the girl, and though shy Holly took the hand and shook it.

“You look really strong,” Holly told him, touching a muscle in his fore arm and giggling.

“Yeah,” Frankie agreed with her. “But I bet he weighs like two hundred -- two fifty pounds.” Aldonn gave her a look that she promptly ignored. “So you doing okay?” she asked the young girl. “Your dad treating you alright.”

Holly nodded her head, her shoulder length brown hair bobbing with her large noggin. “You want me to give you a report on what he’s been talking to other people about?” she asked Frankie.

“Who’s her father?” Edward asked, his interest seemingly piqued.

“Bartholomew Napier,” Frankie told Edward. “Lee’s second in command.” She rested her hands on Holly’s shoulders. “We already know about the meet end of this week,” she told the girl.

“It might be delayed,” the girl corrected her adult friend. “Lee lost something and he can’t go ahead with his plans until he gets it back.”

“So if we can find it and steal it before he gets it,” Frankie mused out loud. “Then we’d really get his attention.”

“That’s good,” Edward said, nodding his head. He then looked very confused. “Why do we want his attention?”

“Why DO we want his attention?” Aldonn asked as well.

Frankie opened her mouth to respond, then thought for a second. “For one thing,” she said at last, “I don’t like being sent to prison for something I wasn’t guilty for. I say I go get guilty for it and see how he likes it.”

“How long have you been letting her call the shots?” Edward whispered to Aldonn, though Frankie could hear him.

“As long as I’ve known her,” Aldonn told the ex-guard.

“And how long has that been?”

“About three days.”

Holly pulled on Frankie’s ear, and leaned in close. “I like your one friend more than your other friend,” she said, looking to Aldonn and then Ed.

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “Me too.” She got up, and took Holly’s hand. “You wanna get some pizza? There’s a great pizza place really near here. Edward’s paying.”

“Yay! I like him more now!”

“No you don’t.”

*     *     *

“Becca!” Kimmy called her daughter’s name as she came through her front door. She’d had to grab some things from the market, but told her daughter to keep packing while she was gone. Her daughter also knew not to let any strangers in. That was rule number one.

Kimmy’s living room was largely a mess, where she had tossed many of her belongings into two piles. A pile of things she could take with her, and a much larger pile of things she’d have to leave behind.

Dropping her suitcases on the living room floor, she stormed through her small humble dwelling into her daughter’s room where she found Becca sitting quietly on the bed.

“I’m sorry mommy,” the kid said, and the door to the girl’s room closed behind her. Kimmy turned around to find the same cloaked figure who had helped her the day before.

Kimmy screamed despite herself, and grabbed her child off the bed.

“Can’t you just leave us alone!” Kimmy yelled at the woman.

“It’s me,” the woman said, pulling back on her hood. She had pale skin and long black hair, looking not that much older than Kimmy’s own daughter. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“I don’t exactly make a habit of associating with teenagers,” Kimmy said in a huff, grabbing her daughter’s knapsack and tearing open the zipper to look inside. “This is all you’re taking?”

“Sorry mommy,” Becca said. “I tried to think of everything. When are we going to be back?”

“We’re not coming back,” Kimmy told her daughter sternly.

“You’re ditching town,” the teen girl commented to Kimmy. “That’s good -- Good idea.”

“So who are you?” Kimmy asked the young girl, wondering why she thought Kimmy would know her.

“I’m only the most recognizable person in Capsin,” The girl said, seeming to be bragging at least a little. Kimmy just shrugged. “You’re telling me you don’t know what the princess of Capsin looks like?” Again Kimmy shrugged. “I’m literally the heir to the throne.”

“I’ve never cared much for royalty,” Kimmy admitted.

“Well you can call me Penelope,” the girl told her.

Kimmy stepped past Penelope into the hall, and began collecting important things from her mantle to place in her suitcase. “How did you find me?” she asked the teen princess in between collecting her things. She had been so sure she had covered her tracks. Never ordered delivery, never told anyone where she lived.

“I talked to your friend,” Penelope told her. That was funny. She didn’t have any friends. Not anymore. “The one at the house on Bay and Maple.”

Penelope saw Kimmy look at a shirt near her, and she passed the shirt to the mother.

“Thanks,” Kimmy muttered.

“You seem terrified,” Penelope stated what Kimmy assumed was obvious. “I’m here to help you. I promise you that I will.”

“The most recognizable girl in Capsin is going to sneak me and my daughter out of the city?” Kimmy asked Penelope, using her own words against her.

The princess was young. Too young. She didn’t understand.

“You want to know why I’m so scared of the Thieves Guild?” Kimmy zipped up her bag and sat on it. “I had a friend once. She couldn’t make ends meet, and never was willing to degrade herself like so many of the rest of us do. She always thought one day she’d make it big as an actress.”

Kimmy felt a shudder course through her body as painful memories resurfaced. “She defied the Thieves Guild,” the mother continued to explain. “And one day she just disappeared. I searched and searched, got witness accounts, bribed drug addicts. I couldn’t find her anywhere.”

“But one day you did,” Penelope said, guessing where the story was going.

“Yeah,” Kimmy said quietly. “I did. At the house on the corner of Bay and Maple.”

“That’s where they put the girls they think they own,” Kimmy explained to Penelope who was looking at her with unmasked horror. “Make the women work for the Thieves Guild.”

“You should have let me grab a sandwich before we came,” a male voice said from outside the front window behind Kimmy. Kimmy got off her luggage and almost screamed, shooting Penelope a dark look.

“Did you bring anyone with you?” Kimmy hissed at Penelope.

Penelope shook her head frantically. “They’re not with me,” the princess insisted quietly.

“Would you shut up,” an all too familiar voice said. “This is her house.”

“That’s Cody,” Kimmy told Penelope in a hushed whisper.

“Who the hell is Cody?” Penelope asked, not nearly as worried as she should be.

Kimmy frowned in frustration. “Cody is the guy you let slip in the alley yesterday.” Penelope’s hand seemed to unconsciously go to her abdomen.

They were royally screwed. There was nowhere to run now. Only the one way in or out of her small house. Realization of the severity of their situation was still dawning on Penelope’s face, all too late.

“Should we knock?” Cody asked someone neither of them could see.

Suddenly Kimmy felt Penelope grab at her hand, and the mother was yanked from the living room. Penelope pulled her down the hallway towards Becca’s room but a loud commotion from behind Kimmy could have only been her door being kicked in.

Not able to make it to Becca’s room, Penelope made a desperate dive for Kimmy’s room instead, dragging the mother with her. Penelope held Kimmy in place behind the doorway, and she could feel the teen trembling beside her. Or maybe she was the one trembling. Or maybe they both were.

She could hear three sets of footsteps enter her house, one sounding a little lighter than the other two.

“Your girl’s been busy,” a woman’s voice said. “She’s been packing for a trip.”

“I’m gonna kill that bitch,” Cody’s voice said harshly. Kimmy squeaked, imagining the horrible things Cody was going to do to her. And worse yet, what was going to happen to her daughter.

Penelope put her hand over Kimmy’s mouth, and Kimmy tried as hard as she could to control her breathing. Why did it suddenly seem like every breath was so deafeningly loud. They would no doubt hear her for sure.

“Her bags are still here,” the woman’s voice said, and there was the sound of a zipper unfolding as they seemed to be going through her things. “It means she hasn’t left yet.”

From the doorway where they were hiding, Kimmy could see her daughter Becca come to her doorway across the hall. Kimmy raised a trembling finger to her lips and held it there, praying her daughter took the hint.

Why couldn’t she stop breathing so heavily. Her only solace was that Penelope seemed to be breathing just as hard.

The princess waved her hand to get Becca’s attention and pointed to a window behind the ten year old girl. Becca nodded in understanding, and Kimmy blew her daughter a kiss as her daughter grabbed her backpack and proceeded to climb out the window into their backyard.

“Search the house,” the woman’s voice said.

Penelope got Kimmy’s attention with a snap of her fingers and pointed to the window in their room. Kimmy nodded, and the two of them made for the window as quickly and quietly as they could.

“With pleasure,” Kimmy could hear Cody’s voice say, only too close.

She opened up the window quickly, allowing it to squeak. They had no more time to be stealthy.

“Go!” She said to Penelope. She had no connection to this. It wouldn’t be right if the princess got hurt because of her.

“You have a daughter,” Penelope argued, and Kimmy didn’t see the point in wasting anymore time. She dived through the window as fast as she could, and Penelope started after her.

“They’re going out the window!” Cody yelled, getting to the doorway.

“Run!” Kimmy yelled to her daughter who was frozen on their back lawn.

“It’s okay,” Penelope said as she dropped from the window and got to her feet. “Let’s go!” She said, leading them from the house to the fence. She boosted Becca over the fence and then the two women climbed over after her.

“Where are we going?” Kimmy asked the princess, as Penelope jogged through a stranger’s backyard and out into the crowds on Beggar’s road.

“We’re heading to the Market District,” Penelope said, out of breath, grabbing Becca’s hand. Kimmy grabbed Becca’s other hand and Penelope led them through the crowds. “We should be able to lose them in the mass of people there.” It was true the crowds were even more dense in the third district than they were in the fifth.

“From there,” Penelope continued, “we’ll get you to the front gates. Once you’re outside the walls you should be safe from their reach.”

There was a crack in the air. “This is official Thieves Guild business,” the thief woman’s voice was heard clearly over the crowds on Beggar’s Road. “Everyone step aside.” Almost as if parting the sea, the crowds split in half to reveal the three girls.

Penelope reacted immediately, pulling on Becca’s hand and steering them into a restaurant. They pushed past tables and tables of people, running as fast as Becca’s little legs and Penelope’s wound could handle. As it was, the princess was grabbing at her side in obvious pain.

They surged into the kitchen, and Penelope stopped to wave Kimmy and Becca past.

“Go!” Penelope yelled to them, and Kimmy picked up her daughter to carry her past cooks busy at work in the kitchen. Well mostly. One seemed to just be watching a pot of water boil. Looking back she saw Penelope move to follow after her. But she didn’t make it far.

“I got you now bitch!” Cody roared at her, grabbing her arm roughly and yanking her so hard he smashed her heavily into the fridge.

Penelope looked back at Kimmy. “Go!” she yelled at the mother. “I’ll catch up!”

Kimmy did exactly as the princess ordered, carrying her daughter into the back of the restaurant, past stairs and out the back door into sunlight.

She knew where she was. It wasn’t much further to the Market District.

*

“That was a brave lie,” Cody told the princess, letting her go, almost as if he wanted to give her time to ready herself. She supposed after last time, Cody really wanted a rematch. The thing was, the longer she kept him distracted, the more time Kimmy had to get away. “I’m gonna tear you apart this time,” the older, stronger man said to her viciously.

Penelope grabbed a frying pan from the sink and held it ready. “We’ll see who makes whom a liar,” she told him, careful to get her grammar right.

She swung the pan at his head, but he blocked her feeble attack easily with his arm, swinging in hard to punch her in the chest. It was right where he’d cut her yesterday, and even with the padded bandaging it hurt a lot. Before she even had time to prepare, his other fist came down on her jaw and hit her so hard she could have sworn he knocked a couple teeth loose.

Her knees buckled and she dropped, knocking her head heavily into the counter which only hurt even more.

Cody laughed at her. “I don’t even have to do anything,” he said, seeming to enjoy every second of his complete domination over her. He lifted her up by the neck with both hands and began choking her.

“I’m gonna be glad to have you out of my life,” he told her, shaking her and squeezing her neck so she couldn’t breathe. “I’ve never had a bitch give me more trouble. But then again I ain’t never been married.”

“I’m not surprised,” Penelope tried to say, though the words didn’t really come out with his hands around her neck.

She could feel those hands loosen. “What was that?”

“Who would want to marry you?” Penelope said in a hoarse whisper, unable to achieve anything more. Her throat felt dry as sand paper. Taunting the big strong scary man probably wasn’t a great idea, but she didn’t have a lot of other options left. “Ugly mug like that I’m surprised you ever even get laid.”

“Oh yeah?” Cody said, shaking her angrily, and squeezing her throat harder so she couldn’t speak. “You think you’re so much better than me, so much prettier than me?” he brought her to the stove where a fire was burning brightly. “How’s about I melt that pretty face of yours right off.”

He leaned her towards the fire and she struggled against him but it was futile. He was too strong. Then she spotted the pot of boiling water.

“Not if I melt yours first,” Penelope said, grabbing the pot and dunking it over Cody’s head. Cody released her, screaming and clawing at his face, and she backed away from him, turning and running after Kimmy not even thinking to look back.

Reaching the back of the restaurant, Penelope knew Kimmy had gone out the back door, but instead Penelope took the stairs up to the roof. There was a locked wooden door in the way and she didn’t have a key.

The lock was damp and rotten, ready to splinter with the slightest force. Putting her body weight into her shoulder, she forced her way through the door, the gash on her stomach protesting quite profusely to her continued physical activity. But she couldn’t stop now.

Stepping into the sunlight she quickly realized she wasn’t the only one to make it to the roof. The other man with Cody had taken a ladder from the street. He was a pudgy man with short brown hair and a baby face. He spotted her at the same time she spotted him, and immediately she took off for the edge of the roof, passing a clothes line of towels drying in the sun.

He gave chase, only right behind her. So close he could almost reach out and grab her. Reaching the end of the roof, she didn’t stop but instead leaped across the six foot gap to the adjacent building.

The thief chasing her stopped just short of the jump and shook his head. “Nuh uh.” He said, looking at the distance and seeming to immediately decide he couldn’t make it. Penelope flashed him a smile.

“She’s on the roof!” the thief yelled loudly to anyone who would hear him. Dammit. Penelope ran from the edge of the roof, spotting a large banner that was strung between her building and another nearby. Jumping from her rooftop, she grabbed at the banner and tried to swing from it. It snapped under her weight and she swung down into the street, landing hard and rolling.

There was a snap in her chest and a sharp pain to go along with the burning from her gash. She wondered if that had been a rib, as her breathing became more difficult, each inhale burning her insides.

She couldn’t stop. Pulling her hood over her head she tried to lose herself in the crowd. She wasn’t far from the Market District now.

*     *

Aldonn watched through the window from outside the pizza parlor as Frankie took Holly up to the counter. He liked seeing the two of them together, children seemed to bring out a softer side of Frankie.

“You can’t trust her,” Edward told Aldonn, watching from beside him. There was a nearby vent blasting heat from the large stone oven the shop used for cooking their signature dish.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aldonn told Edward. Ed didn’t know Frankie like he did.

“What has she done to earn so much loyalty from you in three days?”

“She’s the first person to show me any kindness,” Aldonn told Edward. “It seems like this world could use a little bit more of that.”

“Kindness?” Edward repeated the word and snorted in disbelief. “She’s a thief.”

“She’s not like you think,” Aldonn tried to explain how he felt. “You don’t give her enough credit.”

“What, so you have a crush?” Edward asked. Aldonn wondered if that was what he felt for Frankie, but he didn’t think so. “Big strong stoic goody two shoes falls in love with the bad girl.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Wake up Aldonn!” Edward shouted at him, clapping his hands beside Aldonn’s ear. “She’s a liar and a thief. She’s spent her entire life perfecting both. You don’t think I know her type? She’s a user. Since she was a child she’s relied on taking advantage of others to get ahead. She’ll use you until being your friend is no longer in her best interest, and then she’ll leave you in some alley somewhere to drown in poverty. She’ll take you for everything you have and then ruin your life.”

“Here’s the problem with that theory, Ed,” Aldonn said, backing away from the ex-guard to wait for Frankie by the door. “I’ve got nothing for her to take, and my life is hers to ruin.”

Frankie burst through the doors, balancing a number of pizza slices in her hands. “Take one!” she said to Aldonn who grabbed a slice from the top. It looked delicious. Aldonn took a bite and it burned his tongue.

“Mmm,” Aldonn said as Frankie handed a slice to Holly. “It’s good.” He lied, too burnt to taste it.

“Should we give grumpy face a slice?” Frankie asked Holly.

“I only paid for it,” Edward muttered, and Frankie passed him some coins with his slice. “Twelve bronze? I gave you a gold coin.” He looked to Aldonn. “There should be another 50 silver at least. But of course she pocketed it for herself.”

Aldonn looked at Frankie, crossing his arms. “Is that true?”

Frankie shifted her weight. “I left a big tip,” she tried to defend herself. Aldonn and Edward continued to stare. “Okay yeah. Maybe. Yeah fine. But like he has a whole purse full of coin. And a ‘place’. What if I need spending money for something? I could steal it like I did Ed’s clothes this morning.”

“You stole these?” Ed asked, looking down at himself.

“No one would pay money for that outfit,” Frankie told Edward.

“My mommy says you should never pair pink with pink,” Holly backed Frankie up. “Pink top goes with black pants. Pink dress goes with navy blue jacket.”

“You’re gonna be a fashion barista one day, you little tyke.”

Aldonn crossed his arms. “It’s not right,” he told his friend. “You should give Ed back all his change.”

“She can keep it,” Edward told Aldonn, looking at him like he was naïve. “It’s just proof of what I was saying.”

Frankie got up. “And what exactly we’re you saying before we got out here?”

Just as Frankie had been honest with him, he chose to be honest with her. “Edward was telling me how much he doesn’t trust you.”

Frankie held Holly close to her leg. “What did you talk about after that?” she said, seeming to shrug it off like it was nothing. “The colour of the sky?”

There was a scream that came from somewhere on the main road of the Market District. Aldonn looked from Edward to Frankie.

“What do you wanna do?” Frankie asked Aldonn. “Run away from the screaming?”

*

Kimmy was getting tired, her arms burning for rest as she struggled to carry Becca through the crowds of people. The Market District was particularly packed at this time, but Kimmy knew she couldn’t stop.

Knocking into a woman carrying a couple watermelons, Kimmy stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

“It’s okay mommy,” Becca said to her mother. “I can run.”

Kimmy put her daughter down, and held her hand tight, the two of them surging through the thousands of hungry customers. Looking behind her, Kimmy could see a spear rising over the heads of the masses behind her, and her heart froze with the thought it might be coming for her.

Kimmy spotted a guard’s uniform in the crowd and pulled her daughter through the people to the man standing at the corner of an intersection.

“Please,” Kimmy begged to the guard, holding her daughter tight to her. “There’s someone after me. They’re trying to take me away from my daughter.”

The guard had short brown hair and a creased face, sporting a fancy looking shield on his back. He looked down at Kimmy with only a casual concern.

“Start at the beginning ma’am,” he said, his face twisting in confusion. “Who’s after you?”

“Natter!” a woman’s voice called out through the mass of people. It was the same woman from before, who had broken into her house. The woman was carrying a spear now, the very spear Kimmy had spotted earlier. The tip was almost shaped more like a halberd.

“This is official Thieves Business,” the woman told the guard behind Kimmy. The mother had been sidling closer to the guard, but suddenly that was seeming like a bad idea. “We’ll pay you eighty silver if you grab her now.”

Natter did as the woman ordered, and grabbed Kimmy’s arm.

“You bastard,” Kimmy swore to the man.

“I’m sorry,” Natter told her. “The money is good.”

Suddenly a hooded figure slammed into Natter, knocking Kimmy free. It was Penelope.

“Run!” Penelope yelled to Kimmy who grabbed her daughter and took off towards the Royal bridge. Neither guard nor thief moved to follow after her, instead teaming up it seemed to take down Penelope. There was other movement, though in the crowd, and Kimmy didn’t forget that there were still other thieves around.

*

Penelope raised her fists, ready to fight two people at once. One was a young woman older and clearly stronger than her, armed with a deadly looking spear. The other was the head of her father’s watch on the wall. The second highest ranking guard in the city.

“Who the hell are you?” Bill Natter asked Penelope who ignored the question.

“You’re the one who fought off Cody,” the woman said, getting dangerously close to Penelope. “I’m actually impressed.”

“Have you seen him lately,” Penelope asked the woman.

“She sounds familiar August,” Natter said to the thief. “Who are you under that hood?” he asked her.

“Let’s find out together,” August said, close enough now to impale her on that spear had she wanted to.

Natter reached out to grab her cloak, but a large muscular hand stopped his arm before it could reach all the way. The hand belonged to a man with long blonde hair and blue eyes. He was impossibly handsome, and he pulled Natter away from Penelope.

“Why don’t you leave the nice lady alone,” the blonde man suggested to Natter. He twisted Natter’s arm around behind his back and then threw the head guard to the ground.

August moved in to attack the blonde man with her spear, but she was blocked by a dark haired man with a sword. Penelope could recognize the shape of his head anywhere. It was Edward, come to save her!

“Is this thief one I’m allowed to take down?” he asked a short boyish woman with him.

“You can try,” the woman said, taking up position beside him.

The blonde man touched Penelope’s arm. “Are you alright, miss?”

“The woman I was helping,” the princess said, remembering why she was there. “She was headed for the Royal bridge.”

*

“August,” Frankie said their opponent’s name in greeting, with a nod of her head.

“I heard you were supposed to be locked up somewhere people don’t come back from,” August taunted Frankie, swinging her spear lazily from side to side.

“I’m full of surprises,” Frankie gloated to her formal rival.

“Let’s test that,” August said to Frankie, thrusting forward with her spear. Edward blocked the spear with his long sword, and swung it into the ground. Frankie ran in close hoping to land a punch, but August released her spear to punch Frankie first. Spinning her spear, August struck Edward across the face with the shaft, and then spun her spear back to jab Frankie in the shoulder with the butt and send her rolling away.

Still spinning her spear, August deflected Edward’s sword and got her spear in low and between Ed’s legs. She swept Edward off his feet in one fluid motion, and he landed hard on his back. With a heavy kick August sent Edward into the air and crashing into a vendor’s cart. Her spear still spinning in the air, she brought the butt end across Frankie’s jaw as the shorter thief had only just been getting back to her feet, spinning her back into the ground. She was wielding her spear more like a quarterstaff, toying with them.

“Frankie!” Edward called with a groan as he tried to pull himself out from the wooden wreckage of the cart. “Fighting her hurts!”

Frankie tried to get up herself, but stopped in her tracks as Sean stepped out from the crowd (many of whom had stopped what they were doing to watch the fight) with a hand crossbow in each hand aimed at both Frankie and Edward.

“Good job Sean,” August told the large thief, giving him her nod of approval. She looked to the royal bridge and seemed to spot what she was looking for. “You hold these two here,” she ordered her partner. “All that matters is the mission.”

August ran off into the crowds, and Frankie turned her attention to Sean.

“Sean,” Frankie said his name, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow.

He lowered his crossbows. “You guys really seemed to be getting your asses kicked,” he told Frankie who jogged up and patted the man on his back.

“Good man,” Frankie said. “I actually still had some more tricks up my sleeve, but I’ll take it. Have you seen my jacket?”

“Bartholomew has it,” Sean told her.

“That swine,” Frankie muttered. “You tell him I want it back.”

“Richter misses you,” Sean said as Frankie turned her back on him to see where August had run off to. “He’ll never admit it, but it’s true.”

“You had MORE tricks up your sleeve?” Ed repeated Frankie’s words, still very slow to pull himself up from the cart. “I don’t remember you pulling any tricks.”

“Okay,” Frankie said. “I think, of the two of us, I was holding my own a little better than you were.”

“You got knocked down more than me!”

“Yeah,” Frankie gave him that. “But I got up again. She’s never going to keep ME down.”

*

The girl Aldonn had saved still seemed terrified as he followed her onto the bridge. Vendor’s carts lined both sides of the bridge as crowds of people were crossing, but a clearing seemed to be growing around the middle of the bridge.

The mysterious woman in a cloak picked up her pace. They made it to the clearing to find a man with scars on his face holding a child hostage, the mother on her knees at his feet begging him for mercy.

“Please,” the mother pleaded with the man. “Let her go. Take me instead.”

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “You’re next.”

The mysterious woman Aldonn had helped stepped forward and pulled back on her hood. “I thought I was the one you wanted,” she said confidently. Underneath the hood was a beautiful pale teen with long black hair and grey eyes. “Come on Cody,” she taunted the man. “Let the girl go and give me what I deserve.”

Cody dropped the ten year old girl at his feet where her mother swooped her up.

“With pleasure,” Cody said, advancing on the teen.

“Wait,” said a woman’s voice, and it was the woman with a spear. “You didn’t tell me the woman who hurt you was Princess Penelope of Capsin.”

“Who cares who the bitch is,” Cody swore, brandishing a knife at her. Aldonn stepped between Penelope and the scarred thief. “Look what she did to my face!”

Penelope poked her head under Aldonn’s arm. “In my defence,” she said, “It’s an improvement.”

Cody snarled.

“I said stand down,” the woman with the spear ordered again as Cody tried to advance. “We have an agreement with the guards. Royalty are not to be harmed. You want an all out war on our hands?”

“We would never make a pact with thieves,” Penelope yelled at the woman.

“Ask your father,” the woman said to the princess. “I’m sure he’d love to tell you all about it.”

“Okay,” Penelope said, Aldonn choosing to keep quiet. He wasn’t fully sure exactly what was going on. “Well I extend my protection to the mother and her child.”

The woman scoffed. “It doesn’t work that way,” she said, looking to Cody. “Grab her, and hold her good this time so she doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Aldonn moved to intercept Cody, but the female thief came at him with her spear, thrusting at his head. He dodged her once, and then again, stepping back to touch the railing with his leg. She swung her spear high, and he ducked under it, but didn’t see the butt of the spear as it came around and knocked him over the railing.

“Aldonn!” he heard Frankie’s voice yell, her hands grabbing at his boot and holding him in place, moments from a deadly plummet into the deep ravine below.

Frankie held tight to Aldonn’s leg, but he was too heavy for her and she was almost pulled in after him, letting go with one arm to grab at the railing.

“I’m not giving up on you, big guy.”

*

The black haired man in the pink tunic that August didn’t recognize showed up to challenge her, but the moment he spotted the princess, his focus changed.

“Penelope,” he said, moving to confront Cody. “Let go of her!”

With Frankie trying to save her blonde friend, this left August open to finally complete the mission. She approached the mother who let go of her daughter and whispered something to the kid before the brat ran off into the crowd.

The mother stayed where she lay on the ground, watching with cold trepidation as August drew closer.

“I’m sorry,” August told the woman with very real empathy. “My brother wants to talk to you which means I have to bring you in.”

“I won’t do it,” the mother called out to August. “I won’t be a prostitute for your guild.”

August screwed up her face. “Do we look like the prostitutes guild to you?” she asked, aware that there was no such thing. “We steal things. We don’t deal in prostitutes.”

“You’re wrong,” the woman said, inching away from August. “I’ve seen it, with my own eyes. You can too. On the corner of Bay and Maple.”

“You really believe this shit?” August asked, stopping in her tracks. How sure was she really, that they didn’t have ties to prostitution. Would she really put that past her brother?

“Please,” the mother begged. “I’d rather you kill me than take me to him.”

August raised her spear, planting the butt into the ground. “Cody,” she yelled to her partner. “We’re leaving.” If there was even a sliver of a chance the woman was telling the truth, August would have no part in sexual slavery. Worse still, was how clear it was the woman had nothing to do with Lee’s missing amulet. Another dead end. How desperate was Lee getting, exactly? And what was he capable of?

“Excuse me?” Cody complained, releasing Penelope somewhat against his will.

“You heard me,” August muttered to the thief. “Meet back at HQ for debrief.” She gave the mother a nod, and then disappeared with Cody into the crowd.

*

“Let go of me!” Aldonn called up to Frankie, as she held on for dear life. Her left hand was getting sweaty and slipping from the railing. Why did Aldonn have to weigh so damned much?

“There’s no point in us both going down,” Aldonn tried to reason with her, but Frankie wouldn’t hear it.

“Least then we’d be together,” she told him, not wanting to be separated from her friend even in certain death. “I need you, buddy,” she told him. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

Aldonn tried to grab at the side of the bridge, find any handhold to help pull himself up but it was smooth as cement. “This is a really well built bridge,” he yelled up to Frankie, who had to agree.

Her arms felt like they would be ripped from her sockets, and two of her fingers in her left hand slipped free from the railing.

“This is it,” she called down to Aldonn, letting go of the railing and allowing Aldonn to carry her with him into the ravine.

Suddenly arms reached out and grasped Frankie around the waist.

“I got you,” Edward said, holding tightly to Frankie as she grabbed tight to Aldonn with both hands. The girl they’d helped in a cloak joined Edward, and they all screamed in exertion as they struggled to pull each other up and over the railing safely back onto the Royal Bridge.

They collapsed together in a pile, Frankie breathing heavily and looking Edward over.

“Okay,” she said, willing to give the ex-guard the benefit of the doubt. “You’re not the worst person in the world.”

She looked around at the group of them, and recognized the girl in the cloak as the princess. “Hey,” she said in surprise. “You’re Princess Penelope!”

The princess nodded, still too winded to form words.

“Let me get this straight,” Frankie said, looking back to Edward. “So… we’ve all seen your dick?”

Everyone laughed, including Edward and the princess, though he stopped when he noticed her grab at her side.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, getting up to tend to her. “What were you even doing out here?”

“I was trying to help her get out of the city,” Penelope said with a glance to the mother they’d saved. “She’s in real danger from the Thieves Guild.”

“What the hell are you doing getting involved with them?” Edward asked in shock, coming on a little hard. “You could have been hurt. Worse than this. You could have been killed.”

Frankie just watched the two of them from where she sat on the side of the bridge, admiring their raging sexual tension.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” Penelope said, pulling away from him. “And if my father can’t tell me what to do, you certainly can’t.”

Edward backed up. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Please. You’ve done enough. Head back to the castle. We’ll get her safely out of the city.”

Penelope looked to Aldonn. “You can trust us,” Aldonn told her with one of his charming smiles. It was a smile Frankie couldn’t have resisted.

“Anything that will hurt the guild,” Frankie said, “sounds like fun to me.”

“We know a woman living on a farm just outside the city,” Aldonn told the princess, and Frankie realized he meant Addy. “She would welcome the extra hands, and provide this woman a safe place to sleep.”

“Thank you,” The mother said, squeezing her daughter tightly. “For all you’ve done.” She wasn’t just talking to the men, but to Penelope as well.

*     *     *

Penelope didn’t get back to her room until the sun was already beginning to set. She dropped heavily through her window to land hard on her floor, her body aching all over, her legs burning from all the running. Her breathing still wasn’t quite right, and she was pretty sure she’d torn her stitches again.

It took her nearly half an hour to change out of her clothes and into something loose and casual that could hide the bruises and the blood. Every move she made was like daggers in her side. But she couldn’t rest yet. She still had people to talk to.

Shuffling into the hallway, she made her way slowly down the hall toward the throne room, leaning against the wall for support.

“Gods,” Captain Christopherson cursed as he turned a corner into her hallway. “Are you alright, your highness?” He rushed to lend his aid.

“I’m fine,” Penelope told him, refusing his help. “Did you know some of your men are in league with the Thieves Guild?”

“Did a guard do this to you?” Christopherson asked in horror.

She shook her head. “But one did attack me. Bill Natter.”

Christopherson crossed his arms. “Bill is one of my most trusted soldiers. He’s my second in command.”

“And he’s compromised,” Penelope insisted. “Who knows how deep it goes beneath him.”

The head of the guard seemed to take a long moment of internal processing before responding. “That’s troubling news,” the captain told her slowly. “You’ll forgive me if I can’t act on just your testimony alone. There would be questions. Not least of all from the king.”

“He’s the next person I need to talk to,” Penelope said, nodding her understanding. “Just promise me you’ll keep your eyes open.”

She went to move but winced in pain, and Christopherson let her lean on him, helping her towards her destination.

“Of course, your highness.”

“I have something I want from you,” Penelope told the captain, still considering what he and the other advisors had said to her that morning. “A favour if you want me to play spy for you.”

“Anything, milady.”

Penelope stopped, pulling her arm away from Christopherson. “I want you to teach me how to fight.”

“Excuse me?” the captain said in surprise, his shining armour reflecting the sunlight from a nearby window into her face.

“Can you do it?” Penelope asked. “I want to be able to hold my own the next time I might get attacked.”

“You plan to get into a lot of fights, your highness?” Christopherson asked, still surprised at her request.

“It’s come to my attention,” Penelope told her father’s captain, “that the most important fights are the ones you don’t plan for.”

Chris Christopherson looked her over and frowned. “Well we’ll have to do something about those stick figure arms and legs,” he criticized, raising her arm and lowering them again. “You’ll have to run every day. Push ups. Lift weights. Exercise is half of it. More than half.”

“I will,” Penelope insisted to the captain. “I promise I will.”

“Sure,” Christopherson told her. “I’ll be your personal trainer then.”

Penelope’s heart jumped with joy. Then they arrived to the door of the throne room, and her heart sunk again. “I’m gonna have to do this next part on my own,” she told him.

Opening the doors, she stepped into the throne room to find her father sitting on the throne, with his new mage advisor nowhere to be found.

“I see you’re finally out and about,” the king said loudly across the throne room from his seat on the large throne. Penelope always found the throne to be a disgusting extravagant thing, made of solid gold with the largest most opulent jewels forged into the frame. “How was your time locked in your room?”

“It proved to be eventful,” Penelope brushed off his taunting. “Do we have some sort of arrangement with the Thieves Guild?” she asked him, more careful to hide her limp than she’d been with Christopherson.

“Where did you hear that?” her father asked with a rising eyebrow.

“I read it in a book,” she blew off his curiosity. “Is it true? Did you make a deal with the Thieves Guild?”

“No,” the king said, and his daughter was about to call him a liar but he didn’t give her the chance. “The deal was made long before I was ever king, when the kingdom was still in its infancy.”

“How?” Penelope pleaded to her father. “How can we work together with murderers and pimps and drug dealers.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the king said with a wave of his hand. “They broke their arrangement when they attacked me and tried to steal from the keep.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Penelope screamed at her father.

“What would you have me do?” the king asked her, his voice booming around the room. “Hunt them down in the streets? We don’t have the resources for that!” He got off his throne and descended the stairs to be at her level. “And even if we did, it would be a massacre. There would be open murder in every district. Do you want all that blood in our gutters?”

Penelope remained silent, a shiver going down her back.

“Manejo advises that I apply some patience to the situation,” King George told his daughter. “That I practice restraint and wait to see what their next move is.”

“And what do YOU think you should do?” Penelope asked her father, curious he hadn’t seemed to give any opinion yet of his own.

“I think—“ the king started to speak. “I think Manejo is a wise man, and I should heed his judgement.”

Penelope stormed out of the throne room, able to hear no more. Bursting through the doors, she didn’t get more than a couple steps before she was stopped by none other than Manejo the mage himself.

She had left in such a hurry that her side screamed in agony, and she grabbed it with her hand, wincing despite herself. Manejo eyed her curiously, and she eyed him back with twice the hostility.

“Are you alright Princess?” he asked her, seeming to fake concern. “You seem hurt.”

“It’s just cramps,” Penelope said, quick to make up a lie that would get him off her back. “It’s my time of the month.” In her experience, most men stopped asking questions after that.

Manejo wasn’t, however, so easily swayed. “You know,” he said, grabbing at her hand with his long bony fingers. “I can whip up a potion that can help you with your stomach cramps.”

She wasn’t about to drink anything that that monster whipped up in his twisted cauldron. “I’m good,” she told him, trying to remain polite. “They usually get their worst just before the end.” She tried to force a smile. “Maybe next time though.” She pulled her arm away from his grasp.

“That’s a wise decision,” he told her, giving her a little space. “You’re quite brave, if you’d allow me to say your highness.”

“You have no idea,” Penelope told him, wondering if he’d read it as the threat she’d meant it to be. “Be honest with me,” she pleaded though she didn’t figure he’d listen. “Did your council send you here to manipulate my father?”

Manejo smiled immediately, and even chuckled a little. “Dear me no.” he told her, looking down at the ground as he stifled another chuckle. “My purpose here is merely to listen and report.” With that, he turned on his heels and joined her father in the throne room.

Penelope didn’t know if she felt any better with his answer. Report to whom?

*     *     *

August was on her way back to headquarters when she spotted Lee on the street. He was easy to pick out, always dressed in a snazzy suit. This one was a neon green. The bright of his clothes only accentuated the dark of his sunglasses.

“Is it true?” August yelled at Lee, blocking his path in the street.

“I don’t think I know quite what you are referring to, sister.”

He tried to push past her but she wouldn’t let him. Or at least she tried to stop him, but forever fast on his feet he effortlessly danced around her. She rushed to keep up with him.

“What happened with the mother and her daughter?” Lee asked August, apparently content with her following him.

“They got away,” she told him, not about to let him feign disappointment in her. “What in all hells goes on at the house on the corner of Bay and Maple?”

“So that’s what this is all about,” Lee said, grinning his annoying lopsided grin.

“We’re the Thieves Guild,” August reminded him. “We don’t deal in prostitutes. Tell me that’s still true.”

“Yes,” Lee said with a wave of his hand. “And we don’t deal drugs to the misfortunately addicted.” He grinned at her. “Only you know that we do.”

“You’re fakking shitting me with this,” August swore, stomping her feet in protest. “This has to stop.”

“It’s not going to stop,” Lee said, his grin dropping to a frown. “Times have never been more desperate and we will use EVERY means available to us.” He spoke quickly, and jabbed her in the chest to emphasize his words.

“Dammit Lee,” August cursed her brother. “Would you stop for even a moment? Where are you taking us?”

“Where do you think?” Lee asked her, only quickening his pace. “To the house on the corner of Bay and Maple, of course. Where else?”

The house loomed there, a large mansion in the middle of a busy commercial district. It had wooden arches and a big welcoming porch, with velvet curtains blocking sight into any of the windows. Lee strolled right up the stairs onto the porch, and opened the door to go inside without even a knock.

“Monsier Durgens,” an older woman with a large bossom barely contained in a tight corset came bustling around the extravagant mahogany front desk to intercept Lee. “You look so stressed, sir. I have so many lovely ladies who could distract the likes of even you for an hour.”

The inside of the house was beautiful, with vines snaking up the walls and a waterfall fountain in the corner. There was an inviting fireplace by a bar in the room just off to her left, and beautiful laces were woven around the bannister that led up the stairs to the rooms above them. August had never stepped into a whore house before, and she was in awe.

“I’m only here for one lady tonight, Rosa,” Lee told the Madam. “But you already know that.”

Rosa gulped.  “Please monsier, he was very rough with her.” Lee ignored the woman’s pleas and swept past her with a flourish of his dinner coat to take the hallway past the stairs into the back of the house. August followed him into the kitchen where the woman Lee must have been looking for was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette.

The woman’s hair was frizzled, sticking out in all directions almost as if she was sporting an afro though she was a ginger. Her make up was all a mess, her mascara running down her face with fresh tears. In her hand, her smoke shook almost to the point of dropping it.

“He was a nasty horrible man,” she told Lee, her voice cracking. “He would electrocute me with his magical lightning again and again. Every time I screamed seemed to give him a perverse sexual satisfaction.” She swallowed heavily and took a heavy drag from her smoke. “I tried so hard not to scream.”

August could feel her heart break.

“Blah blah blah,” Lee said, miming a mouth with his hand. “Did you get the information I require?” August almost shoved her spear through the back of his head, but tried ever so hard to keep herself in check. He was family after all.

The red haired hooker nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You were right,” she told Lee, with an attempt at a laugh that turned into a short sob.

“A mage stole your fakking amulet.”