Stealing the Eye

Here is one
of the very first stories I ever wrote. It might seem a bit stereotypical, like
something out of a late-night Dungeons & Dragons session....but I had fun
writing it....available FREE for download in the Stories section of the website.

Stealing the Eye

By Jon Connington



The news carried through the streets and alleys, the mansions
of the wealthy and the pits of the desperate.



“It’s coming!”



“What’s coming?”



“It! They’re sending it here!”



“You’re not making any sense, mate.”



“The Eye of Belek. It’s coming to Gandrilor!”



“The Eye? You’re not having a laugh?”



“It’s the truth! The Prince of Kolistar is sending the Eye here! Part of the
peace treaty, see?”



“My Gods, the Eye of Belek....”



“The one and only.”



“Imagine if we could get our hands on it....”

“Imagine if a thief got his hands on it.” Lord Borrell mopped his forehead with a silk handkerchief. “The shame! The ignominy! Our family would never recover”

“Then why did you agree to protect it?” asked Alicia as two guardsmen passed by carrying a strongbox.

“Don’t be foolish, niece. Being custodian of the Eye is a rare honor, a sign of the Council’s favor.” Lord Borrell paused as the strongroom door slammed shut. “Still, I will be happy when it is safely in the Palace.”
Alicia tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. “Uncle,” she asked in a wheedling voice, “please, can I see it?”

“Alicia....”

“Please?”

“I gave you my answer yesterday and it’s the same today. No!”

“But I won’t tell anyone! I promise.”

“The Council has decreed that none may see the Eye of Belek before the official presentation, not even me....”

“Uncle....”

“Do not ask me again!”

Alicia gave him her most withering glare, but the fat old fool was standing firm, one hand fiddling with his eye patch.

“Hmph!” Piqued, Alicia flounced away.

It was a regular night at the Two Bears, which in any other drinking establishment would qualify as something just short of a riot. Of all the low-down, beer-and-bloodstained thieves kitchens in the Low District of Gandrilor, it was by far the darkest, dankest and most notorious. On any given night there mingled in its smoky taproom and private booths the bottom scrapings of Gandrilorian society; thieves, murderers, grave robbers, poison sellers, purveyors of illegal potions, ladies of negotiable company, mixed in with the usual assortment of gamblers, brawlers and drunks looking for a good time at someone else’s expense. When dawn came there were often a few corpses waiting to be hauled away by the body-snatchers who then sold the cadavers to the necromancers for their unspeakable experiments.

On this night a light drizzle was falling across the city, turning the grime that coated the Lowd District into a sticky muck that clung to everything and made the normally fetid air in the tavern even thicker. Seated in a back corner booth, Irnek the Green sipped his mug of muddy ale and grimaced. “I swear, this swill gets worse every day,” he muttered.

“Flavored by the finest in dead flies and drowned rats,” said his associate Miko, seated across from him, who swigged from his mug and sighed contentedly. “After a few rounds you hardly notice anymore.”
“Yeah, yeah. Do you have it?”

Miko slid a small pouch towards him. “This was not easy to find.”

“That’s why I came to you.” Irnek looked inside. “Outstanding.”

“My money.” Miko held out his palm and two gold coins. A serving maid came by and he ordered another round, then saw Irnek gazing away with a mooncalf expression. “Not again!”

“There she is,” Irnek muttered. Standing by the bar was a woman, slim and petite, wearing tight leather trousers and a black jerkin, her blond hair worked into a braid that fell over a shoulder. She laughed as a burly fellow with a longsword as his side chatted her up. “Arnea.”

“You do this every night, Irnek. Why don’t you just talk to her?”

“She’ll laugh. A woman like that won’t waste her time on me.”

“She’s a thief, Irnek.”

“The best in the city.”

“And you’re a wizard....”

“I’m barely an acolyte! I have no power to speak of.” Irnek noted how the twin curved daggers she wore bounced fetchingly off her hips. Sighing, he grabbed a mug and drained the contents without complaint.

Across the taproom, dice rattled across a crowded table. “Six and three!”

Curses and groans followed. Telky Two-Toes scooped up the dice and kissed them. “The luck gods are on my side! What say, lads? Anyone else?”

The other gamblers reached into their money pouches. One of them growled, “I’ll see ye, Telky, yer luck has gotta run out sooner or later! Double it up!”

Coins rained down, more wagers being made. The dice rolled. “Four and five! Beat that, ye arrogant snot!”

Telky grinned, scooping the bones into his hand. None of them saw his fingers flicker, switching the dice in his palm for the loaded pair up his sleeve. It had taken years of practice to become that smooth. He made his throw. “Six and five! Thanks for your money, friend....”

Two men watched the game from the shadows. “Did you see that?”

“The trick with the fingers? He’s good.”

“He’s very good...but not too smart. Else he’d know that no one plays a bent game in here ‘less they’re working for me.”

“You want me to break his fingers?”

“Nah, not yet. Let’s keep watching.”

Miko slurped down his ale and belchedy. “All's I’m saying is, if you think Arnea’s the kind of woman who needs to be impressed, then you should do something to impress her.”

Irnek stared blearily at his friend. Somehow the ale didn’t taste so bad now. “Like...like what?”

“I dunno....she’s a thief, yeah? So...why not steal something?”
“Me, steal something?”

“S...something big...gets people talking. That’ll get her attention and no mistake.”

“Like what?”

“Well....” Miko marshaled his drink-sodden wits. “How about the Eye of Belek?”

“It’s here in Gandrilor?”

“Yes, it is!” In another booth a scarred hand yanked the ragged curtain closed. “It arrived yesterday, send by the Prince as part of the peace settlement.”

“I’ve heard of it, Master.” Valo the minion pictured it in his mind. “They say it’s a ruby the size of a hen’s egg, the largest ever found. They say unknown magicks are hidden in it....”

“They sat many things, cretin!” The sorcerer known as Bazalik the Thrice-Accursed (wise men knew better than to ask why) steepled his fingers before his nose. “But if I could unlock it’s mysteries, then I could open the Gate of Nine Unspeakable Monstrosities! Unlimited power would be at my command! This city and all the vermin in it would call me Master....”

It was a familiar rant, and Valo waited until Bazilek was done before pointing out, “Too bad it’s locked up tight in the Palace, Master.”

“Ah, but it isn’t!” Within the depths of his robe, Bazilek smiled. “I have it on good authority that the Eye is being kept in the mansion of Lord Borrell. The fools think that will confuse any thieves looking for it. Which is good for you.”

“For me, Master?”

“Yes.” Glowing yellow eyes bored into the weaselly little man. "Because you are going to steal it for me....”

“Double sixes! See ‘em and weep!” Telky laughed as he scooped up the dice with his right hand and the money with his left.

“You’re uncommon lucky tonight, Telky,” one of the other gamblers muttered.

“Just the roll of the dice, lad, just the roll of the dice. Who wants another go?” There were only mutters at that. “Double or nothing! Double or nothing! Any takers?” No one bit, they’d lost enough already. This had been a very good night for him....

“I’ll take that bet.” A gravelly voice cut through the din. Telky froze, the winnings dribbling from his fingers.

A fat man with small hard eyes forced his way through the crowd, flanked on either side by a tall, grim-looking thug. His name was Granik and he was the biggest, meanest and most unforgiving crime lord in the Low District, and the owner of the Two Bears. His gaze fastened onto Telky like a snake on a mouse it was about to swallow. “Double or nothing, is it?”

“I...changed my mind,” Telky forced out.

“You can’t back out now.” He held out his hand. “Dice.” One of the thugs placed a pair in his hands. “Let’s play.”

Mouth dry, Telky rattled the dice in his hand.

“Wait.” Granik set his down. “New rule. We switch bones.”

“That ain’t right.”

“My place, my rules. Hand ‘em over.” A white-faced Telky obeyed without question. “Roll ‘em.” The dice bounced across the table. “Three and two. That’s not good. My turn.” Granik's eyes never left Telky, not even looking down as he made his throw. There was no need.

“Let me guess,” Granik said. “Double sixes. Looks like I win.”
Telky bolted from the table, headed for the door. Two of the bouncers moved to intercept. One tripped Telky as he ran past, the other grabbed his arms and hauled him upright.

One of the thugs approached. “Bring ‘im along,” he said. “The Boss wants a word with this one.”

“I’ll do it!” Irnek shoved the empty mug away. “I’ll steal it!”

“Pshaw! I’d pay t’ see...see that....” Miko’s head swayed.

“You...you watch me. I’ll...s..slip it round her neck. Then she’ll like me, Miko. Miko?” He saw his friend passed out on the table.
In another booth one of the middlemen who did business here was meeting with a customer. “I have what you want.”

“It’s about time.” It was a woman’s voice, but that was all he knew, after three months of dealing he had yet to see her face. Loose trousers, baggy tunic, hooded cloak, and that damnable mask around her face...it could have been anyone. She called herself the Nightcat, and it was a name many had come to know in the past year. Across the city there had been a rash of burglaries. Gold, jewels, priceless works of art, all had been lifted, their guards found tied up, their owners passed out from the sleep darts in their neck. And at every theft there was left behind a card with an elegantly painted black cat on it. The Council had already placed a bounty on her capture.

The middleman didn’t know much more about her, it wasn’t his job to ask questions. Besides, she paid on time. He slid a wrapped bundle across the table. The Nightcat opened it and looked. “Very lovely.”

“But not free.”

“Never fear.” A money bag landed before him. “I always pay for quality.”

The middleman checked inside, his eye greeted by the shine of gold. When he looked up again the Nightcat was gone, and the goods with her.

In a room upstairs, Telky was dropped into a chair. Granik eased his bulk behind his desk and ran his fat paw through the mess of coins piled on top. “Quite a haul,” he said. “Your big score?”

Telky didn’t answer, could barely keep himself from trembling. Graniks reputation got worse with every year. If he was lucky he might get out of here with only a few missing fingers.

“Now,” said Granik, “about your debt....”

“My debt?”

“Double or nothing, remember? There was...how much, Harald?”

“Six hundred gold crowns and thirty silvers on the table, Mister Granik” said one of the thugs. “And two pennies.”

“What he said.” Granik gave a cruel smile. “So you owe me twelve hundred gold crowns, and double all the small change.#8221;

“I don’t...I don’t have that much....” No one did, it was more than an honest man could earn in ten years or a crooked man in five....

“I figured. But you still owe. I’ll give you ‘til dawn to come up with the coin, or I start taking payment out of your hide.”

“That ain’t enough time....”

“Not my problem. Harald here just bought a new knife. He’s been looking for a chance to use it.”

The thug tapped the dagger at his side. “Dawn in a few hours, boyo. Youse best get cracking.”

Telky was escorted out, stumbling through the tavern door. He bent over a gutter and vomited noisily, the enormity of what just happened sinking in. There was no way he could get that kind of money by sunrise. He was a dead man....

“...here in the city!” Two men walked by. “The Eye of Belek. Can you believe it?”

Back in the Two Bears, Granik told Harald, “Wait ‘til dawn, then hunt him down. Take your time with Telky, I want an example made of him.”

“Yes, Mister Granik.”

Granik picked up a silver piece from the desk. "What a waste. He was a good earner.” He flipped Harald the coin. “Run out and get some of that fried fish I like. Dice always gives me an appetite.”

The rain had stopped when Irnek arrived at the Borrell mansion. Leaning against a wall, he popped another piece of chappa root into his mouth, the sour juices counteracting the effects of the ale. He would need a clear head for the night’s work.

The ancestral home of the Borrells, like most of the residences of the great and mighty in Gandrilor, resembled a miniature fortress with a few decorative touches tacked on almost as an afterthought. The surrounding wall was ten feet high and topped with iron spikes. The main building beyond had tiny windows set with thick iron bars, glowing in the night like malevolent yellow eyes. Armed guards patrolled the grounds and doubtless more would have been added with the Eye in residence.

This was crazy. It was suicide. He was risking the gallows or worse. But Irnek didn’t even consider turning back. Love, or at least something fairly close to it, drove him onwards.

And he didn’t come unprepared. Irnek opened pouch he’d gotten from Miko only hours before. Spitting out the chappa pulp, he took out a pinch of the gray powder inside and gingerly placed it on his tongue. As expected the taste was incredibly bitter, like a thousand lemons concentrated into one tiny point, but that was overwhelmed by the jolt of energy racing through his body. His vision swam for a moment and he leaned against the wall until his head cleared.

Irnek felt lighter, as if his weight had been cut in half. He jumped up and found himself floating through the air. Reaching the top of the wall, he grabbed the edge and halted, hovering ten feet above the street below.

It worked. He had only a few minutes before the effects wore off, but that would be enough. Irnek climbed over the iron spikes and launched himself upwards. He sailed over the courtyard and bumped into the wall of the mansion. He dug his fingers into cracks between the bricks and pulled himself up, headed to the tower where rumor said the Eye was being kept.

Not long now. Soon it would be his, a ruby the size of a hens egg. He imagined the look on Arnea’s face when he showed it to her, when he draped it around her neck, the stone gleaming against her bare skin. He imagined how she might express her gratitude at such a gift...oh yes, he imagined....

On the other side of the mansion a guard fell quietly to the ground, a bump growing on the back of his head. Telky slipped the cosh back onto his belt and opened the bag over his shoulder, pulling out a grappling hook and line. He hurled it up, hearing a distant clink as the hook caught on the edge of the roof. The points dug in and he gave the rope a final tug. With a deep breath, Telky started to climb. Only a few hours until dawn. With luck he’d arrive at the Two Bears with the Eye of Belek in his hand. Granik would take it with shaking fingers and pronounce the debt free and clear. Telky would depart with all his fingers and toes, free to scheme and hustle once more, although in future he would stay away from taverns frequented by crime lords....

A large growth of ivy climbed up the western face of the mansion, blocking the view to Telky’s left. He didn’t see Valo crawling up the face of the building, climbing claws on his hands and feet digging into the stonework, letting him move like a squirrel up a tree. Along the roof the Nightcat moved like her namesake across the tiles. All were focused on the squat tower rising from the northwest corner of the mansion, the single window glowing faintly.

Irnek halted before the window and looked inside. No sign of the Eye and no sign of any guards. A single lamp hung from the ceiling. He took the small onyx wand hanging from his belt and pressed his thumb against the rune carved into the side. A jet of brilliant white energy shot out. He pressed the tip against the iron bars in the window, sweat beading on his face as he cut through each one and piling them to the side.

The last bar broke free. Irnek waited a moment for the iron stubs to cool and climbed through the window. His feet pressed against the floor of the strong room, his eyes taking in the sight. Chests were piled high against the wall, the top of one open, Irnek seeing the gold coins piled inside. He looked away with some regret. Another time, perhaps. In the center of the room was a pedestal, on top of which was an ironbound strongbox. He pressed the wandtip against the lock and popped it free, then opened the lid.

And there it was, nestled on a bed of velvet. A ruby, the largest ever found, cut and polished until it shone like a blood-red star. The Eye of Belek. Irnek picked it up, his fingers caressing the hard surface and perfect edges. Priceless didn’t even begin to describe it.

The light from the lamp flickered a moment. “Give it here,” said Telky, standing behind Irnek. He’d come through the window without being heard. Telky raised the sword in his hand. “I will cut you down, wizard or not.” The tip pointed at Irnek’s neck.

A puff of air blew across them both. The door to the strongroom swung open and in walked the Nightcat, pointing a crossbow at Telky. “Then I’ll shoot you,” she said, “and take the ruby. Works out fine for me.”

Irnek pointed the wand at her and she stopped. There they stood, weapons pointed at each other, the pedestal between them all. Eyes shifted nervously, at the ruby, at one another. This outcome was the last thing they expected. “I shoot this wand,” Irnek said, “and there’ll be a hole where your nose was.”

“Not if I put this shaft through your eye,” the Nightcat retorted.
“I’ll spike you both if you don’t give me the stone,” Telky growled.

“Not a chance.” Irnek tightened his grip on the Eye.

Then there was a loud clatter. All three jumped in shock and looked to the window. Valo was climbing through, puffing like a dying cow. As he came in he knocked down all the iron bars Irnek had carefully stacked on the windowsill.

The clangs echoed around the room, out the door and down the hallway outside. A heartbeat later someone called out, “What was that? Who’s there?”

“Damn!” The Nightcat lunged for the ruby. Irnek tried to dodge and instead she hit his wrist, sending it flying. The Eye skittered across the floor and came to rest below the window. Valo looked down, picked it up and grinned. “Thanks!”

He dropped out of sight, headed down the wall.

The Nightcat ran to the window. “Oh no you don’t!” muttered Irnek as he snapped out a cantrip. A puddle of grease appeared beneath her feet and the Nightcat slipped, landing flat on her back with a loud, “Oof!” Irnek took a step and was nearly yanked off his feet as Telky grabbed his shirt. The magic powder was still in effect and he was light as a feather, easy to manhandle. Telky pulled the back of Irneks tunic over his head and shoved him away, bouncing him off the stacked chests like a ball of rags, his hands flailing about helplessly.

Telky hopped over the grease and grabbed his rope. Down below he saw Valo crawling towards the ground like a spider. “Hey! Stop!” Telky yelled as he rappeled down.

Irnek yanked his shirt back and went to the window. Cursing, he leapt into the air, floating down like a leaf in the wind, past Telky who looked on in surprise. Down below, Valo was legging it across the courtyard towards an open side door in the outer wall.

The Nightcat slid away from the grease puddle and got to her feet. She looked out the window and saw Irnek run out the side door, Telky following behind. Down the hall she heard footsteps and shouts of alarm.

She picked up the crossbow. The bolt had been knocked free, but it was still cocked. Reached into the quiver at her side, she pulled out a new bolt, one of several she had bought at the Two Bears only hours before. She leaned out the window and took aim at the temple across the street from the mansion, at the top of its high tower, one of the tallest in the city.

The bolt whistled free. As it went, it left behind a trail of black smoke that hung in the air. At the tip of the shaft was a metal fist instead of a point which opened as it flew. The bolt reached the top of the temple tower, the enchanted metal fingers grabbing the ancient parapet, encrusted with centuries of dried bird droppings, taking a firm unbreakable hold. A moment later the smoke solidified into a black rope.

The guards were coming. The Nightcat took the rope, pulled it tight and jumped. She swung down, the cloak flapping behind, arrows whistling past as archers crowded at the window. “The Eye!” one of them bellowed into the night. “They’ve taken the Eye!”

The Nightcat sailed over the outer wall, missing the iron spikes at the top by inches. She hit the ground, let go of the rope and took off down the street.

Valo ducked into an alleyway and stopped to catch his breath. He held up the Eye, marveling at it’s beauty. The Master was going to be pleased....

The ruby flew out of his fingers as Irnek tackled him. The wizard saw it bounce across the ground and bump against a tall crate filled with refuse. Jabbing his elbow into Valo’s kidney, he scrambled to his feet and picked it up. “Mine!”

He turned around with a smile, just as Telky’s fist belted him across the face, sending him flying back, knocking over the crate. The Eye flew up into the air. Telky reached out and catched it. “Ha! Gotcha!”

“Hey!” The Nightcat entered the alleyway. Before Telky could react she kicked him in the fork of his legs. The ruby dropped from his fingers as he dropped to his knees.

The Nightcat picked up the Eye of Belek. “At last,” she breathed. “It’s mine....” She heard the footsteps a second too late. Valo rose up behind her and dropped the crate over her head, pushing it down as far as her elbows, pinning her arms to her sides. The ruby fell away as the Nightcat staggered about, bumping against a wall, gagging at the smell of rotten potatos peelings and worse.

Valo scooped up the ruby and ran, disappearing into the night only moments before a squad of city watchman hustled up, drawn by the cries of alarm.

The Nightcat lifted the crate off her and tossed it to the side, her head and shoulders draped in offal, just as the watchmen arrived. For a moment they stood there, looking at a masked woman covered with scraps, another man bent over in pain, a third cradling his jaw. It wasn’t something they saw on an average night.

Then, as one, all three thieves ran for it, the Nightcat one way down the street, Irnek leaping over the watchmen, landing heavily as the powder finally wore off and headed the other way, Telky hobbling down the alley.

“After them!” shouted the sergeant in charge of the squad. The watchmen split up and gave chase.

Irnek ran down the street, watchmen close behind. He reached into the pouch, put another pinch of the powder into his mouth, and ducked down an alley. The guards followed right after and stopped. “Where’d he go?” one of them said.

Above, Irnek landed on a roof and quickly lay himself flat. He waited until the watchmen moved on before standing back up and leaping across the street to the roof of the next building and then the one beyond that, headed to safety, his jaw throbbing.

A few blocks over, more guardsmen stood below an arch. “I know she went this way,” one of them said. “I saw ‘er.”
“Mebbe she doubled back.”

The watchmen turned around. As soon as they were gone, the Nightcat dropped down from the shadows at the top of the arch, letting go of the handholds. She landed lightly and went in the other direction, leaving behind only the silence of her steps, and the faint odor of spoiled food.

Telky reached an intersection, where the alley split into two branches. He ducked down one and pressed himself into an alcove. A moment later the watchmen followed and ran down the other way. He waited until the echoed of their footsteps faded. Gritting his teeth, he gingerly limped onwards. This was definitely not one of his better nights.

Dawn.

In the secret lair of Bazalik the Thrice-Accursed, Valo wearily came in through the door. “Master,” he called out, “ I have it!”

“Bring it here.”

Bazalik eagerly took the Eye of Belek. “Well done, Valo!” he said, holding it up to a lamp. “Soon it’s secrets shall be mine! You will be well rewarded for your loyalty, well rewarded....” His words trailed away. A thunderous expression appeared on his face. “Valo, you IDIOT!”

“M...Master?”

Bazilek put the jewel on a table, picked up a hammer and brought it down hard. The ruby, the Eye of Belek, shattered to pieces with a tinkly crunch. “Glass!” Bazilek screamed. “Colored glass! It was a decoy, you blithering nincompoop!”

“But that’s not possible...I only did what you told me....” Bazilek picked up a black wand. “No, no, please Master, don’t turn me into a frog!”

“When I’m done with you, you’ll wish I turned you into a frog!” Bazilek aimed the wand at his minion, who squawked and dove for cover. A bolt of amethyst-colored fire blasted a chunk out of the wall behind Valo, covering him in rubble. Gibbering, he ran around the edge of the room, Bazilek taking two more shots. The first hit a bookcase, sending heavy tomes flying like they were twigs. The second struck a bubbling glass beaker on a charcoal brazier, instantly filling the entire lair with thick purple smoke.

Valo fumbled his way to the door and ran out, several more wild blasts sizzling past him. “Come back, Valo!” Bazilek shrieked from somewhere inside. “Come back so I can shoot you!”

Dawn found Irnek back in the Two Bears, nursing an aching jaw and a broken heart.

He’d failed. The ruby had been his, he’d had the Eye of Belek in his damn hands, and he'd had still failed. Now it was gone, probably three cities away by now and broken into a dozen pieces. He’d lost any chance with Arnea, a swollen jaw wasn’t going to impress her. Irnek tried to count his blessings. At least he hadn’t lost any teeth. It had been a glancing blow, the swelling would be gone within a week. Somehow it didn’t seem a fair trade, Arnea was likely already snuggled with some big sword-swinging lunk, it was enough to make him weep....

A shadow fell across his table. “Go away, Miko,” Irnek growled. “I’m not in the mood.”

“If that’s what you want.” A woman’s voice spoke.

He looked up in surprise. “Arnea!”

The petite beauty, flower of the Low District, stood there. “I heard you made a run at Lord Borrells strongroom,” she said in that throaty voice that made men weak at the knees.

“Er...that’s right....”

“Did you get anything?”

He shook his head.

“Pity.” His heart sank even further at that.

“Still,” Arnea then said, “that took a lot of guts. No one else would have tried it. I’m impressed.”

“You’re impressed?”

Arnea sat gracefully down on his lap. Her fingers traced the bruise on his face. “Why don’t you tell me about it,” she purred.

And despite his aching jaw, Irnek smiled.

As the dawn light filtered through the dingy streets of the Low District, Telky sat in a winesink trying to drown his sorrows. The pain from that kick was starting to fade, but that was nothing compared to the despair running through him. Twelve hundred crowns, that’s what he owed. He could only imagine what Granik would have his boys do, for sure he'd make an example of Telky for all the other gamblers looking to play crooked....

“Well, at least you didn’t run.”

Harald was standing next to him. “So it’s you, the,” Telky said in a resigned voice.

“Pardon?”

“What’s it gonna be? My right hand, or left?”

Harald paused a moment before answering. “Neither.”

Telky blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“I guess you ain’t heard. Granik’s dead.”

“Dead,” exclaimed Telky. “How?”

“Choked on a fishbone, the poor bastard. Happened just after you left.” A full cup was set in front of Harald. “The man did love his fried fish.” He drained the drink to its dregs.

Telky breathed with relief. “So I’m free and clear.”

“I wouldn’t say that. See, me and the lads had a...discussion after the event, and it was agreed that I’d be taking over the business. And your debt is still on the books.”

The despair rushed back. His luck had deserted him, he was sunk. “I didn’t have the money to pay Granik,” Telky said, “and I don’t have the money to pay you now.”

“I figured. But...here’s the thing. The fish that sent old Granik onwards, it was bought with the money he took from you. So in a way, I have you to thank for my sudden change in fortune.”

“Well, I....”

“Don’t get me wrong, you still owe what you owe. But I figure it’s going to take three days to sort out Graniks affairs, so you have ‘til then to raise the coin. And if I come to collect and it turns out you’re not in the city, well...I won’t waste the time hunting you down, not when I have other fish to fry, no pun intended.” Harald pulled a silver piece out of a pocket and lay it on the bar. “Have a drink on me, boyo. See you in three days, or not.” And with that he ambled off.

Telky picked up the coin and stared at it. Then he told the barman, “Bring me another. Make it a big one.”

It was amazing what could happen in a single night.

As the sun crept past the horizon, a window opened in a lady’s bedroom, and in slipped the Nightcat, red-faced with fury under her mask. Unbelievable! That little squit ran off with the Eye, leaving her stumbling around like a buffoon! Well, she’d find him, she’d have her prize, something like that wasn’t going to stop the her....She opened a closet and the hidden compartment in the back of it, stowing her crossbow and the rest of her gear, stripping off the baggy dark clothes, the mask and the cloak. Her long red hair fell free and she grimaced at that rotten potato smell. Gods, what a stink, it would take days to be rid of it....

She picked out a robe and put it on. As she did there was a knock at the bedroom door. “Alicia? Niece?” came a muffled voice. “Are you decent?”

Alicia quickly closed the closet. “Yes Uncle! Come in!”

The door opened and Lord Borrell entered. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Uncle. Why?”

“There was a bit of excitement last night. Some thieves broke into the strongroom. After the Eye of Belek, I think.”

“Good grief!” she replied, trying to hide her nervousness. “I must have slept right through it! Did they succeed?”

“I’m glad to say they did not. No, the Eye is safe and sound.”

That didn’t make any sense. “But if they got into the northeast tower...”

“Alicia, I’d hardly place a treasure like the Eye in my strongroom, not with every thief in Gandrilor after it! First place they’d look.”

“Then what did they take?”

“A very clever reproduction, made from colored glass. I’d love to see the looks on their faces when they find out....”

Then the Eye was still here. “So, if it’s not in the strongroom, where is it?”

Lord Borrell scratched his fat bristly chin. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you.” He slid his fingers under his eye patch and turned them about a bit. There was a fleshy pop, and then he held up the Eye of Belek. “Safe as it can be,” Lord Borrell said triumphantly. “No thief would look for it in there.”

“Very clever, Uncle.”

“Would you like to hold it? The ruby glittered, even though it was covered in sweat.

“Ah, no thank you, Uncle.”

“Very well, then.” Lord Borrell lifted up the patch and with a soft squelch slipped the stone back into his eye socket. He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose. “Is that a new perfume you’re wearing?”

“Er...yes it is, Uncle.”

“Hmph! I’ll never understand these new fashions!” Lord Borrell waddled off.

Alicia sat down on her bed, her mind working furiously. Still two days before the official presentation. She could slip something into her Uncles tea, send him into a sleep deep enough to ignore an earthquake, enter his bedroom just after midnight, when the guards were changing shifts....

Then all she had to do was fish around in Lord Borrell’s sweaty, smelly, slimy eye socket....“There’s not enough money in the world,” she muttered.

And with that, Alicia the Nightcat summoned a maid and ordered a warm bath drawn up.