Amongst Thieves

CHAPTER NINE- Guild

He woke with a start, Reina's name on his lips and a cold sweat across his body. She haunted him still, the final moments of her life on replay inside his mind when he wasn't assaulting himself with vivid imaginings of how Lohan and Vàsu must have died.

He became vaguely aware of the dull pain in his hand, finally noticing the trickle of blood running from where his fingernails had bit deep into the flesh of his palm, as if to punish itself for ever letting her go.

'I'm sorry.' He muttered into the darkness, knowing there was nobody there to hear him.

'No point cryin' bout it now,' he replied to himself, mimicking Lohan with a sad smile.

He rose awkwardly from the too-soft bed, pulling on his shirt and moving to the window on the far wall, trusting memory to guide him through the darkness. Though he had tried to hide it from Harver every part of this manse grated on him from the glass windows to beds raised from the earth. He would not miss the place.

As always the dreams had woken him well beyond dawn but for once he was grateful, slowly running through all he wanted to achieve before meeting with his guild handler later that morning. He slipped silently from the window into the pre-dawn chill, slowly making his way towards the guild hall.

The building itself was squat but wide, covering at least twice the area of any that surrounded it. Not overly theatrical, the efficient use of excessive wealth gave it an air of authority, completed by an expansive courtyard and tall wooden wall. Callen had been secretly disappointed when Harver had first taken him to see it, having expected something more fitting of the dark and mysterious stereotype of the thieves' guild. It amazed him now that something so trivial had ever seemed important.

He circled to the rear of the complex, checking he was alone before starting the short climb over the wall. Even in the near complete darkness he barely had to think as he wedged his hands between the wooden beams and hauled his small frame skywards. Once he had dropped silently into the rear courtyard he began to dig, keeping the hole neat and even against the inside of the wall. After he had hidden the small bundle within and ensured the patch was again identical to any other in the yard he returned over the wall, though he was sure to take the excess soil with him.

As the sun finally breached the horizon he found himself amongst the small crowd pushing its way through the slum gate. Though he had hoped to avoid the place for as long as possible there was no denying that he had unfinished business in the stinking pit of the city. He followed the river, doing his best to avoid anywhere associated with his old life until he found himself at the place where it had all started. The safe-house had once seemed a grand place, a bastion of safety that was one of the few permanent structures in the slums. Now he saw for what it was: broken and defeated. He couldn't help but see a piece of himself in the rotting boards and sagging roof.

He fought to hide his surprise when the door was answered by the same frail old man from his childhood, he'd expected the caretaker to be dead before he'd even left the safe-house. For a moment he wondered if there was a hint of recognition in the old man's face as he pressed a heavy gold piece into a wrinkled hand without a word, watching clouded eyes widen at the weight of it; payment for the three lives the old man and older building had saved. Callen couldn't help but imagine how many lives the little round of metal would save in turn.

The gold coin, along with the one he had used for his guild membership and the one slipped into Harver's wallet, was all he would spend from the small leather pouch, he had promised himself that much. When he found its owner he'd be sure to give back every piece he had taken, along with the dark knife he had pulled from his leg. The choice made him essentially broke but it hardly mattered, with the regular meals and shelter provided by the guild there was nothing he needed that he couldn't steal. Money was a complication he didn't care to worry about.