CHAPTER TWO: ON THE STREETS
After Shyri peered hard into the dark behind them for the third time, Fawkes could no longer hold his tongue.
"You're that sure he saw you?" They were nearing the end of the market streets where all the shops and street traders sold their wares.
"No, but ... maybe?"
Fawkes snorted a laugh at her confident uncertainty but said no more. The smells of Thrundank timber in various stages of aging filled did well to hide Shyri's floral scent as they walked close to the buildings, must to Fawke's annoyance. A few shops were made of stone and not wood, and he sniffed deeply of her when they went by them. They followed Juju, who turned onto the last dark street that would take them past the Blackstone Inn.
"We need to heist some brandy tonight. I'm in the mood for some really good brandy."
"Depends on what they're up to." Fawkes and Shyri had been sneaking into Haggler's Storehouse to steal brandy now and again for months. It had little to do with the brandy. Haggler was deep in the Hand, the band of thieves who seemed to run half the town. Shyri resented them for not letting her into the band just because she was a girl. That was until they hired some wizard to cast mage fire in the Blackstone Inn, killing several people, including his grandfather. Now she felt utter contempt for them and their lack of real thieving skills, a point she was determined to prove with every heist she did, often dragging Fawkes along.
Fawkes hated the Hand for murdering Grandfather. That was part of the reason he joined her bits of mischief, though he let Shyri believe it was the only one. What he really wanted was to get back the magical book the Hand had stolen during the murder.
A few well-placed drinks and deliberately losing a good bit of coins at placards had loosened just the right lips to reveal that Haggler was hiding the "big loot" in some magical bag. Those lips had not revealed what the "big loot" was or where Haggler was hiding it, but magical bags were too uncommon for the Hand to be hiding two different "big loots" in two different bags.
"It's blackberry brandy and I know the easiest way in without being seen, even if the Hand is up to something."
Fawkes frowned. They had already been inside Haggler's Storehouse so many times he knew all the "easy" ways in, too. "I've never seen blackberry brandy in the Storehouse."
"That's because it's his best spirit. He keeps it elsewhere and well-guarded."
Fawkes blinked. Finally! "You want to steal from his house?"
Shyri laughed.
"Of course not, silly. He doesn't keep anything interesting at home. After all, he deals with thieves, you know." She patted his arm. "I will show you tonight. I've been waiting for things to settle down from the fire and I think they finally have." An uproar over so many dead had set the townsfolk again the Hand. The town watch, most of whom were bribed by the Hand, ended up breaking up attacks and lynch mobs but never arrested a citizen. They even locked up some of the Hand!
"Sure." Fawkes struggled to hide his disappointment. I really want her to get me inside Haggler's house but then I'd have to tell her why. Can I do that without telling her just how magical the book is? Would she be mad if I break our agreement of never sharing secrets? Would she stop—
Shyri stood on her toes and kissed his cheek with a little laugh that quickened his heart. She had never done that out in the open before, even when it was dark.
JuJu snorted at them again and turned down yet another dark street that did not have cobblestones. This one was an alleyway running between the backs of shops. He let out a long, low growl. From behind them came the sound of running feet.
Fawkes spun around, his free hand drawing the dagger sheathed at his hip. Juju did not join him to face this threat.
Damnation, what else is JuJu warning me about? There was no time to look and he trusted JuJu to deal with whatever it was. With his other arm, Fawkes pushed Shyri behind him. Or tried to. She set her feet and pushed back, staring at the lone figure no taller than her running up to them in trousers, not breeks.
"Thimmy!" she snapped. "Go home!"
"No!" A boy who resembled Shyri except for his dark brown rather than red hair, wedged himself between Shyri and Fawkes, unaware of the dagger Fawkes held.
Huffing out an annoyed breath, Fawkes changed his grip so the dagger pointed back towards himself and lay the flat of the blade against his forearm. It was a defensive grip meant for blocking blades ... and not stabbing annoying little brothers who intruded everywhere.
Shyri let go of Fawkes and shoved. Thimmy moved his body but kept his feet between them.
"No more kanoodlin', Shyri!" he ordered, sounding more like a dockside brat than the son of a prominent brewmaster. "Or else Papa'll see you hitched, and you said you didn—!"
"Papa isn't anywhere near, so you don—."
"SHHHH!" Fawkes hissed and turned around.
JuJu backed out of the street. He circled towards Fawkes where he let out a questioning whine. Someone was coming.
"Hide." Fawkes snapped.
"This way!" Shyri led them into a narrow gap between two tall buildings. It was even darker in the shadowy gap. Fawkes hoped the pair would stop squabbling long enough for them not to be found out.
Fawkes and JuJu turned around to watch the street. With a good bit of jostling each other, Shyri and Thimmy did the same.
Footsteps echoed into the gap before they could see three men strolling along. One of them carried a sack over his shoulder. The sigils stitched about the sack gleamed strangely in the moonlight, though only to Fawkes' magic-trained eyes.
He sucked in a breath. They're moving the book! Forget the brandy! I have to follow these men! One of the siblings pushed the other into Fawkes' back. But not with these two along. He grimaced and hoped they stayed quiet.
The three men chatted and joked amongst themselves, paying little heed to the otherwise empty alley. Not one of the men spared a glance at the dark gap. Soon as they passed out of sight, Fawkes turned around. His three years of being skipper of the Gosling settled over him with an air of command he had not worn since Grandfather's murder.
"You two are heading home."
"I'm going with—"
"Not withou—"
"Enough!"
"Those Hands are up to something. Not a good night to be traipsing in their business."
Shyri clamped her hands on her hips. The night hid the glare he felt certain she was giving him. After a moment, her head turned to Thimmy then back to Fawkes. She nodded.
Fawkes relaxed the tenseness of his shoulders, thankful she was not about to let her little brother get them into trouble. Before she could say anything, Thimmy pushed her toward the other end of the gap.
"Fine," she grumbled then gave in to Thimmy's pushes and left the gap. Soon as they were out, the siblings ran for home. With them safely out of the way, it was time to follow the Hand.
