Aedan Calahan and the Silver Hand

Chapter 1

Aedan Calahan slicked his blonde hair with grease as his glossy blue eyes absorbed the world around him. Tall and well-spoken, he had all the equipment to be dashing. Maybe even a prince. But that could never be because dirty rotten thieves were ugly in this world. Princes certainly didn't wear ragged clothes or skin caked in dirt and mud and the stench of alley animal.

Aedan ran Silver Coin Barrel. Every Alley in Dublin was called a "Barrel" by thieves for a reason only known to them. He was there every day from except Sundays from sunup to mid-sky. There now, he had just a few hours to strike gold. Or silver, in his case.

Aedan had eyes like the day's ocean, but his unique quality was his skill at collecting silver. Why else would he be the youngest boy in the Alley Guild to own an alley? He had proved his skill so many times that Cheddar no longer struck him across the face on short-change days or forced him to kiss his bare feet.

Aedan was a prodigious silver thief, and he was about to prove why.

He casually sauntered into the Market Square, looking every bit conspicuous and inconspicuous, depending on the set of eyes. That was rule number one—identify the eyes. Aedan had already identified two sets of knowing eyes, a fruit seller and a candle maker. When Aedan locked eyes with the fruit seller—a man so ugly he must be cursed—he wiggled his pants pockets and snarled at Aedan. He had no teeth because that's what you get when you eat too much of your own product.

The second rule, and one that Aedan created from his own experiences, was not to reveal to the other thieves the men with knowing eyes. The more thieves that get caught, the more silver to pocket for yourself.

Two set of knowing eyes—that was all. Not bad, not bad at all. No police today, either. Today proved to be promising.

Aedan identified his first target, an old man with only one working eye. Rule number three: be a wolf. The wolf pack preys on the weakest, the slowest, and the most vulnerable. That way, only the hale lived to reproduce and populate the world with those who are suitable. In a way, Aedan was simply partaking in nature. That was what he told himself most days.

Rule number four was the simplest and most important: don't get caught.

The Market Square was not a square, but a giant circle with several layers of rings. The half-blind man was in the middle ring. People presume safety lay in the middle because your front and back were shielded. This was a falsehood, as any successful thief would tell you. The middle was the easiest to steal from, for the same reason it's considered safe.

Aedan waited until the one-eyed man was occupied with a customer. She asked a lot of questions, a good thing because it gave Aedan more time to inch closer without being spotted. He stopped once he was a quick burst from the man's stand. Inside his stand, he kept his coin purse—Aedan could see it clearly, shiny and red.

"Yes, the freshest, yes, mam," Aedan heard the one-eyed man say. "The berries, now they come from the shallow lands. In season two months out of the year, and that's if you're lucky."

Aedan had never heard of the "shallow lands." The man certainly didn't sound Irish.

"The lady responded inaudibly, while Aedan situated himself. Thieving was like fighting—every strike was an opportunity to be stricken. Precision and timing determined the thief's success.

"You'd get five quarts for that. Nah. You know, the sun's out today. How often is the sun out in Dublin? Six quarts. The extra is on me."

The lady happily dug into her thin purse and chose the coins clumsily and Aedan decided to steal from her later if they crossed paths.