The Silver Crown

5.

I brought the necklace to Kiro early the next morning. He was my fence because I was too impatient to deal with customers. He was supposed to get twenty percent of the cut, but I knew he took thirty. I let him have his small victory because I needed him to be the face so I could do the work.

"Beautiful," he said, holding the gold chain in his hands, his face inches from the emerald gilded to the pendant. I leaned back against the door and examined the room.

Kiro's place changed from month to month. He usually was staying with whatever friend had agreed to house him for a promised tidy sum of money that he would never pay. This place was dirtier than his usual accommodations.

"The client will be very pleased." He tore his eyes from the gem and looked at me. "And so you perform another successful theft. When word of this new heist gets out, the people will call you the Shadow Thief. This makes six successful big time robberies and no one has any suspects." Kiro was a bit of a romantic.

"Don't go spreading that name around. Word will get to the Watch and they'll drag you up before the provost," I said, my eye twinkling but my voice sharp.

"I know better than that, Shadow Thief." Kiro tucked the necklace into a satin bag that he owned just for this reason, his eyes reluctant to leave the glinting emerald. "I'll have the money for you tomorrow. And, as always, I'll contact you when a new client springs up. Each successful heist adds another interested buyer." Kiro was very pleased. He winked at me and I slunk out the door.

I stayed low. Market Kings were roaming the streets carrying out their usual petty crimes and looking for whoever killed their gang member the day before. The streets were also crowded with people who had come to watch the parade down the Royal Road, which turned and met the Diamond Road after crossing over the Saban.

I roamed through the Market District, keeping my head down. The shops and stalls were decorated with purple and white ribbons. Children ran around wearing paper crowns. Decorations were strung across the road from the tops of shops and houses. The colors and the parade were celebrating the anniversary of the day Arovia separated from Coronado and become a kingdom. White and purple were the colors of the royal family and the royal crest consisted of a griffin and a sword on a dark purple background.

The priests who had my brother had promised to get me into the palace, had promised to provide me with an opportunity to carry out our mutual plan sometime during this moon. But in less than a week, the Cheshu moon would begin to wax. I had no doubt that the priest had lied. This was an impossible task.

I turned off the main road, wandering through the not decorated streets, missing the comforting presence of a younger boy at my side.

Suddenly there was a shout. "There she is!"

Then I was surrounded. I scolded myself mentally; just because I was sad didn't mean I could let my guard down.

It was a group of Market Kings around me and they were furious. I knew the feeling.

"You killed our brother," one of them snarled venomously.

"He attacked me," I tried to reason. I cracked my knuckles one by one.

"You baited him," a kid I recognized as one of the Market Kings who held my arms yesterday said.

"And now you are going to pay for killing him!" Another blue sashed kid shouted. He came toward me. I pulled out two knives and crouched. I really didn't want to fight the Market Kings again. I was far outnumbered and was sick of killing, sick of waiting for the end of the month when I was sure that Tobin would show up dead in the fountain in the square because I had failed to do the impossible.

The boy struck for me and I ducked back in the moment. I swung, but someone grabbed my arm and yanked it back. I kicked out, hitting someone but it didn't do any good. I could not win against this many people!

I spun around and stabbed the person holding my arm. I looked up and saw another Market King. He was bringing his arm back, ready to throw. The knife came out of his hand and instinct directed me to leap to the side. Instead of hitting my chest, the knife buried itself in the muscle on top of my shoulder, beside my neck.

I yelled in pain and fury. I shook off the attacker behind me and took off running. I sprinted away from the Market Kings, angry that I was running from a fight but recognizing that this was a fight I wouldn't walk away from. Surprisingly, I wasn't as ready to join the Lord of Death's court as soon as I had thought.

My attackers were surprised, but not for long. They quickly took off after me.

I kept running even though my breath was coming in ragged gasps and the muscles in my legs were burning.

I bobbed and weaved through the crowded streets. Why is it so crowded? I had forgotten about the holiday already. A knife was still clutched in my left hand and my right shoulder hurt like the hounds of hell had ripped out a chunk of flesh. I couldn't move any muscle in my arm without causing my shoulder to scream in pain.

Suddenly I burst through the crowd into an open street. The people lined each side of the large street leaving the middle open. I stood for a moment in plain view trying to make sense of the odd dynamics of the city. I gulped for breath, filling my wheezing lungs with humid air. The people were in an uproar and men were rushing everywhere. The Market Kings who had been following me quickly blended in to the crowd, leaving me standing alone and bloody in front of crowds of people.

I glanced around the street, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. My brain seemed to be moving extra slow, adrenaline pulling me away from my thoughts and forcing me to focus on insignificant things, like the humming of my blood pounding behind my ears. The Royal Guard was everywhere and beautiful horses with well-dressed people on them were parading down the street. The clip clop sounds from the horseshoes seemed to echo loudly in my mind, pulling at my focus. I saw a man with a sword in a purple uniform swing for my head and I ducked.

Time suddenly came speeding back to me. Then I was in another fight, this time against grown men with swords. I could see the pattern on their tunics and knew that it would be a bad idea to kill these men. I would be sent to prison: they were the Royal Guard.

I could be sent to prison for killing Market Kings too but with these guys, I would be pursued forever until I faced justice. With gangs, it wasn't so bad. No one cared about street kids. No one cared if we died.

Truthfully it probably didn't matter if I killed them; I was already going to prison for fighting them at all and for interrupting a royal parade. Tobin's face popped into my mind just then, reminding me that I did have something to fight for. I'll do everything I can to find you, Tobin. Even the impossible.

And so I will escape from this mess.