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They crawled away from the light, deeper into the narrow vent. Laughter rang from below, while the scent of cinnamon cakes teased their nostrils.

The two orphans had done this before. They were nimble and quiet, and quite good at going unnoticed—all qualities that made them skilled at their chosen profession.

Kelle held the pendant tightly in her fist, using her knees and shoulders to push herself forward. She could see the exit straight ahead—a rectangular opening where once had been a grille.

As they got nearer, a man’s face appeared in the frame, frowning.

“Well?” he whispered. “Did you get it?”

The girl waited until she was within arm’s reach before she responded with a grin and a wink.

“Of course.”

She opened her fist, revealing the gleaming trophy, and the man’s frown turned into a grin.

“Well done!”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her out, then turned to do the same with Thimmin who had been crawling right behind her.

Standing in a small and empty room, the master thief—whose name was Romnad Sabar—took a deep breath and nodded.

“Now comes the hard part. Getting out before someone notices the pendant’s missing.”

“No one will notice,” said the boy as he brushed the dirt and dust off his clothes.

The Guildmaster fiddled with his ring, as he was prone to do when he grew nervous.

“I like your confidence, but—”

“He’s right,” said Kelle with a chuckle. “That dupe you gave us is perfect. It looks exactly like the real one. Oh, I’m sure someone will notice eventually, but it’s very unlikely to happen today.”

“Well, I hope you’re right.” Romnad looked at the pendant in his hand before slipping it into his pocket. “Still, I’d rather we didn’t linger.”

They’d come into the palace posing as a father with his two kids, seeking financial support from the Crown, knowing they’d be directed to the Bursar’s Office, at the center of the fortress. From there, Thimmin and Kelle were small enough that they could use the ventilation shafts to make their way to the princess’ room and swipe her pendant.

A peculiar request from a self-professed admirer.

The thought made Kelle scoff, but it was not a thief’s job to question a client’s motivation, only to provide satisfaction—assuming payment was made, of course, and it had.

They unhurriedly made their way back to the front of the palace and left the building without anyone sparing them a second glance.

There were so many daily requests for financial help, it was unlikely anyone would remember them when the theft was finally discovered.

Kelle snickered as they headed back toward the Needle.

***

A few days later, while the orphans were practicing sleight-of-hand moves, Syrus Toth came for a visit. They sat at a table in the recreational area for a talk.

Thimmin didn’t like this. The only time the Guildmaster ever came to them was either to teach them something or to scold them. And since this was not a lesson...

“Are we in trouble again?” he asked with a frown.

Syrus quirked a brow. “Should you be?”

“Of course not,” Kelle said proudly. “We always follow the Ways of Yiis.”

“So you always say.” Syrus lifted a hand before she could protest. “But that’s not what this is about. You’ve been with us for close to a year now, and you’ve proven skillful if somewhat unruly.”

“I resent that!” said the girl with a scowl.

“Nevertheless, there have been frictions, and we wanted to make sure you had not had a change of heart.”

“We? So you’re speaking for all the Guildmasters?”

The man nodded, watching them both intently.

And what is that supposed to mean? wondered the boy.

As usual, Kelle was one step ahead of him.

“If you’re asking whether we still want to be thieves, I think the answer is pretty obvious.”

“Is it now?”

The amusement in Syrus’ voice was quite clear, though it did not make the boy any more comfortable.

“Look, it’s simple. It’s never been a matter of wanting. We are thieves. Have always been. Even before we joined the Guild. This is where we belong.”

“Why?”

Thimmin shifted in his seat. “What do you mean, why?”

The Guildmaster shrugged. “If you were thieves before, then clearly you do not need us.”

“Cutting purses and stealing from the palace are not the same thing,” argued Kelle.

“Ah. So, is it about ambition or wealth? Or both, perhaps?”

“It’s about rising out of the gutter.” The girl grinned. “And we enjoy it, too.”

Syrus smiled. “There’s nothing like a good thrill, aye.” The smile faded. “But you will grow. You already have since you’ve joined. Fitting in those narrow spaces will soon become more challenging, if not impossible. How will you handle that?”

The question made Thimmin uncomfortable. Not because it was unfair, but because it was something he had often worried about himself. Despite being older than Kelle, he was smaller, so he knew it would be an issue for her first. He was concerned that she might get stuck during a mission, and then what would they do? The only time he’d brought it up, Kelle had waved the matter off, as if it were still far in the future.

He glanced at her now and saw her twitch a little.

“Not all missions require slipping through narrow spaces,” she said casually. “We’ll just move to different projects.”

The Guildmaster pondered a moment, then sighed. Stood. Motioned for them to follow.

“I don’t believe you are ready for this, but it is not my call to make.”

Thimmin felt a chill go down his spine as they hurried after him. But confusion was all he heard in Kelle’s voice when she replied.

“Ready for what?”

“You’ve been requested for a new mission.”

“Requested? Really?” The girl grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

Syrus did not comment as he led them down the halls to the meeting room.

It was empty when they arrived.

“Sit. Kerj will join you in a moment.”

“Who’s that?”

“I’ll let him introduce himself.”

Thimmin sat, looking around nervously. “Which master thief will we be working with?”

The Guildmaster grunted. “None.”

Both orphans blinked at this. “What?” they asked in one voice.

“He wants the two of you and nobody else. We tried to explain that you were only apprentices, but he insisted. And so here we are.”

Kelle gaped. Then grinned. “This is awesome!”

***

The man was tall and slender, with hair so short he might as well have been bald.

He sat across from the orphans and considered them for a moment, disdain dripping from every one of his gestures and words.

“You are Thimmin and Kelle?”

It almost sounded as if he hoped they would deny it.

Kelle straightened in her chair. “Yes. That is us. We heard you wanted to hire us?”

Syrus had stepped out of the room so they could have privacy, as was customary when a customer required it.

The man named Kerj snorted. “Hardly. But my employer does. And in case you’re wondering why, please keep that question to yourselves, because I do not know. Gods know I tried to talk him out of it, but he persisted. Children.” The last word was muttered under his breath, but Kelle heard it clear enough, and she didn’t like it. “It is not my place to question, only to serve.”

He pulled a pouch from his belt and tossed it on the table. It slid to a halt in front of the boy, but Kelle snatched it up and emptied its contents between them. Their eyes went wide.

“That’s a lot of coins.”

“Yes. I agree. Way too many for the lot of you. And there will be more, twice as much, if you succeed.”

“In doing what exactly?” asked Kelle.

“You must retrieve a sword. A magical sword called Moonthorn. You will have little time to do this, as the man who carries it will arrive in Salamandris tomorrow morning and leave four days later. His name is Vor Undig, and he will be staying at the Nhemil Manor.” He fell quiet for a moment. Then abruptly stood. “I will return in five days to attest to your failure. Good day.”

He turned and marched out.

“What just happened?”

Thimmin gaped at Kelle, who looked just as startled. But the girl quickly regained her composure.

“Alright, let’s focus, this is important. It’s our very first job on our own, we can’t mess this one up!”

“We have to prove him wrong,” agreed the boy.

“There are two ways we could do it.” Shoulders on the table, she cradled her head in her hands, eyes fixed on the coins. “Either we sneak in and out of that manor while the man is sleeping, or we lure him into a dark alley and incapacitate him.”

Thimmin grimaced. “I don’t like our odds on that last one.”

The girl pursed her lips. “We know some burly guys who could probably handle it for us.”

“But the sword! We don’t know anything about it. Only that it’s magical. What if that man kills all our friends as easily as we’d swat a fly?”

Kelle thought about it for a moment and nodded. “You’re right. It’s too risky. Which means we’ll have to sneak into that place.” Gathering the coins, she pushed them back into the pouch and stood. “Come on. We need to talk to Syrus.”

They found him waiting for them in the recreational area.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Strangely,” she said. “But it’s fine. We can do this. But we’ll need your help.”

“I’m listening.”

“We need to find a way into Nhemil Manor. Can you get us a map of the place?”

The Guildmaster winced at the name.

“What did he ask you to do?” He lifted his hands before she could answer. “No. Forget I asked. I don’t need to know. And yes, I can get you a map. We have maps in our archives for nearly every building in this city—especially the older ones, which this one is. But I have to warn you, kids, it’s reputed to be magicked.”

Kelle didn’t like the sound of that, even if she wasn’t sure what it meant.

“What does it even mean?” asked Thimmin, voicing her concern.

“Its current owner is a man named Egon Amedara, but the house was built by a wizard. There are spells all over the place.”

“That’s not good...”

The girl remained silent, thinking.

“You said it was reputed to be magicked. So there’s no evidence of this, is there?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Alright. Just get us the map, and we’ll handle the rest.”

Syrus stared at her for a moment, then stood and headed off.

“Fine,” he muttered as he went. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

***

They spent the next day studying the map, spotting the guest chambers—there were four of them—and the various ways they could be accessed. All had windows, but none of them would be easy to access. Besides, breaking glass was too likely to wake the sleeper.

“We’ll have to go through the chimney,” said Thimmin apprehensively.

“That’s the only way in,” agreed Kelle.

The boy shifted, eyes darting over the map.

“What if we get stuck?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“There will come a point when—”

“Don’t let what Syrus said get into your head, Thim. We can do this.”

He grimaced. “Fine. But there’s only one chimney, and it doesn’t connect to any of the guest rooms. Also, how will we know which of those rooms he’s in?”

“Easy.” She pointed at the drawing. “Three have a view over Main, the fourth is on Carstan Lane. Tonight, we’ll split up and watch the windows so we can spot which one lights up. That’ll be our target.”

Thimmin hummed. “What if Egon has more than one guest?”

“Then we’ll have to think of something else. And whichever room he’s in, we can reach from here.” She tapped a spot on the map. “They’re all on the third floor, so we’ll have to go upstairs and down this hall.”

That’s a lot of ground to cover without making a sound, he thought.

But this was their chance to impress the Guildmasters and get better-paid jobs—as apprentices they only earned a small fraction of the reward. So he just nodded.

A few hours later, they approached the manor. It still was daylight, so they kept an eye on the entrance to spot anyone going in or out.

By the time night had fallen, only two men had entered the house. Kelle stayed on Main while Thimmin went down Carstan to watch his window.

I hate surveillance. It’s so boring.

He sat on the floor, head leaning against the stone wall, gaze fixed on his target.

But it was dark.

His eyes half-closed and he pinched himself.

Can’t fall asleep now!

He jumped to his feet and paced back and forth to stay awake.

“What are you doing?”

Thimmin spun, startled, and saw Kelle smirking at him.

“Keeping myself busy,” he muttered.

“Don’t worry, we’re about to get very busy.”

He grinned. “You spotted his room?”

“Yes.” She unfolded the map and pointed. “It’s the second one. Here. Lit up for about half an hour. Just went off now. He must have gone to bed.”

“Any other lights?”

“Master bedroom, but it’s off now as well.”

“So they’re both asleep.”

Kelle put the map away. “Seems like it. Come on.”

She headed toward the back of the manor. A tree grew there, high enough to reach the third floor. They climbed to the top and crawled carefully onto one of the thicker branches. Dropped to a ledge and looked for holds in the wall.

With only one more floor to go, they made their way up and slid between the massive stone figures that decorated the edge of the roof.

While Kelle unrolled the rope they’d brought and tied it to one of the figures, Thimmin glanced down the chimney.

It’s really narrow.

The girl joined him and threw the other end of the rope down the shaft.

“I’ll go first,” she said.

Her shoulders brushed against the sides as she lowered herself inside.

Thimmin waited until she was a few feet down before he followed her.

She seems to be handling it well.

They’d have to go all the way to the ground floor to enter the house through the parlor, and then up the stairs to the third floor where the guest rooms were.

The rope ended just a few feet above the ground, and Thimmin had to let go and drop to the floor, hoping the sound wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention.

Kelle waited for him in the parlor.

“According to the map,” she whispered, “the room we want is the second on the right after we get off the stairs.”

They exited the room and headed for the staircase.

Thimmin was glad the floor was made of stone and not wood—the creaking would have rattled his nerves and would have been likely to wake someone up. With stone, if they were careful, they could be as quiet as the night.

Going up, he noticed Kelle lifting her hand and pinching at the air, then swiping to the side with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Too much mist,” she muttered.

Mist? What mist?

It was dark, but not so dark that he couldn’t see where he was stepping. And how could there be mist indoors, anyway?

She paused when they reached the second floor and, once again, made strange gestures.

“Is there smoke that I’m not seeing?” he asked.

“Sshhh!”

He bit on his lip, realizing he’d spoken too loudly.

“Not smoke,” she whispered into his ear. “Can’t you see it? It’s like fog. I’d never seen anything like it.”

“No, Kelle, I don’t see anything.”

The girl seemed startled. She straightened and looked around. Shrugged, then started up the last set of steps.

That’s when they heard it.

A door swinging open.

Right above them.

Kelle scurried back, nearly bumping into Thimmin.

“Quick, we need to hide.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him behind her as she backtracked to the second floor and went for the first door... only to find it locked.

Cursing, she tried the next, with as little luck.

Footsteps coming down.

“Who goes there?”

They hurried to another door...

... and the light from a torch cast shadows around them.

“Who are you?”

They pressed their backs against the wall and stared as a large man in a nightgown marched toward them, holding a drawn sword in his free hand.

***

The man stared at them.

“Kids? Is this a joke?”

If there was one thing they hadn’t expected, it was to be caught. They’d been in tight spots before, but nothing quite like this. And Kelle didn’t like it one bit.

At least the air is clear now that I’ve swiped all that mist away, she thought bitterly.

“Who are you, and why are you in my house?”

Both orphans knew the Ways of Yiis well enough to not answer that. A thief never volunteered information, not even under threat of death.

“And how in the gods’ name did you get past all the spells?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Thimmin was very pale, but still he held his tongue, as she knew he would.

The man narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, that’s how you want to play it? Very well. Let’s keep going down this hall.”

He slapped the flat of the blade against her shoulder to force her into movement, pointing in the direction they had been going when trying to flee.

Kelle grudgingly moved, throwing glares at the man.

“You’ve got attitude, I’ll give you that. Not that it’ll do you much good. You’ll be singing in no time, I promise.”

Though she tried hard not to show it, she worried that Egon would torture them. It was not a common practice—at least not in Salamandris—but there had been some known cases in the past. The Guild had many protocols, even for such an unfortunate circumstance. No matter the price, they were expected to keep their mouths shut.

What would Yiis do in our shoes?

The man guided them into a room and used his foot to close the door. He lit the sconces on the wall with his torch while still pointing his sword at them.

“Sit,” he said.

Now that there was more light, Kelle saw there were four chairs, a table, and a strange device mounted on a wall. It looked like nothing she had ever seen—a bulbous protuberance that glowed and pulsed.

Is that thing organic? she wondered in disgust.

“Fascinating thing, isn’t it?” The man chuckled. “Don’t be fooled by appearances. There is no life in that thing. It’s just a special kind of device, filled with magical energy.” He motioned to the chairs with his sword. “Go ahead, then, sit. Don’t make me repeat it.”

The two orphans sat.

But Kelle couldn’t take her eyes off the device.

It hung from the wall, just above the table. She could have reached out and touched it, but she dared not. It was both fascinating and repulsive at once.

The glow was red, and blue, and yellow. The colors danced on the throbbing surface, calling her. It was silly, of course, because there was no voice inside her head—nothing like that. But she felt drawn to... to... whatever that thing was.

“I inherited this manor from my grandfather,” Egon went on. “He was a wizard, just like his father and his father’s father before him. I did not inherit those skills, sadly, but I was taught enough to understand how all this works.”

Still holding the sword toward the children, he approached the device. No longer needing the torch, he had snuffed out the flame and now set it down on the table.

“There are rules, you see. People think you can do anything you want with magic, but that’s not how it works. There’s energy all around us. It’s invisible, but it’s there. And when someone casts a spell, he’s just giving a shape to that energy. A shape and a direction—a target, if you would. If one can store enough of that energy in one place—say, something like this...” With his now free hand, he gestured toward the device. “Well, then you can do some very interesting things. Of course, there are still limits.”

His fingers played across the surface, tapping in specific spots. Kelle watched as the colors flowed in rhythm with his movements. There was a pattern to it all, she could see it clearly.

“The energy must be given a purpose. It could not exist in a contained space like this without a purpose.”

“Magic is not sentient,” let out Thimmin before biting down on his lip.

Egon grinned. “He speaks! Wonderful. I was starting to worry you might be mute. But you’re right, it is not that. Still, everything has a purpose.” He waved his blade, bringing it a bit too close to the boy. “For instance, a sword’s purpose is to cut and kill. Fortunately, we won’t need to take things so far. Because this device was designed to extract truths from those unwilling. That is its purpose.”

He’s wrong, thought Kelle as she stared intently at the pulsating device. It’s not about truth. It’s about memories. That’s what it’s designed to pull out of us.

“So, I’ll ask again. Who are you and why are you here?”

Egon tapped three times on the device, and a beam of light shot out, headed straight for Thimmin.

Kelle reached out and pinched at the air, freezing it midway, then flipped it around and let go.

The beam hit Egon.

He slumped to the floor, sword clanking as it dropped from his hand.

***

Thimmin jumped to his feet, blanching.

“What happened to him? Is he dead?”

Kelle frowned. “No. But he won’t remember anything when he wakes up, so we’d better hurry.”

The boy looked confused. “What? How is that possible?”

“I’m not sure,” she said as she stood and walked to the door. “All I know is that I reversed the device’s effect. So instead of extracting memories, it erased them.”

“But... how...”

She put a finger on her lips to hush him and opened the door.

They slipped out and quietly returned to the stairs.

I don’t get it, he thought. She said that like it was the simplest thing in the world. And all I saw her do was pinch at the air, like she was doing earlier. This makes no sense.

Kelle went up to the third floor and stopped at the sleeping man’s room—they could hear him snoring through the door.

Well at least we didn’t wake him.

The girl slowly turned the knob, and they slid in.

And there was Vor Undig, lying on the bed, eyes closed, chest heaving as he slept.

And there, leaning against the wall next to the bed, was the scabbarded sword they had come for.

They stared at it for a moment, then moved in its direction.

The scabbard was magnificent—made of velvet with golden rims and intricate motifs depicting battle scenes with dragons and hydras. The only visible part of the sword was its hilt and it, too, had a carefully wrought symbol—a V-like shape with a snake wrapped around each leg.

Kelle reached out and picked up the weapon. Frowned as she looked at it for a moment, then motioned with her chin toward the hall.

Thimmin kept glancing at the sleeper as they tiptoed to the door. He only let out a sigh of relief once they were halfway down the stairs.

“We still need to get out of the house,” she reminded him in a whisper.

They found their way back to the chimney, where the rope dangled, waiting for them.

Thimmin pulled a sack from his pouch. It was folded small to make it easy to carry. He unfolded it now and pulled it wide open so Kelle could tuck the sword inside. She then tied it to the rope before climbing up.

He watched her go, then followed.

It was just as narrow as before, but he was not so worried now. If she’d gone in, she could go out.

When they reached the roof, she helped him out, then together they pulled the rope up and untied the sack.

“We need to go see Romnad Sabar,” she said.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She pointed at Moonthorn.

“Because I think this belongs to him.”

***

They knocked and knocked at the door until finally it swung open.

The sleepy master thief stared at them.

“Thimmin? Kelle? Are you two okay? What are you doing here so late?”

“We need to talk,” said Kelle.

“Couldn’t it wait until morning?”

“No.”

He glanced out into the street as he pulled the children inside and closed the door.

“Alright, I’m listening.”

“We have something of yours,” said the boy while his friend tossed the sack on a table and opened it.

Romnad rubbed his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Kelle pulled the sword from the sack and held it out, watching the man’s expression.

“You hired us to get this, so I thought we’d bring it to you in person.”

The master thief’s eyes went wide.

“I... No...” He shut his mouth and looked between the two.

They held his gaze, not saying a word.

Romnad, now wide awake, pulled a chair and dropped into it.

“How did you figure it out?” he asked as he rubbed his ring.

Kelle pointed to it.

The man looked down.

His ring had a carved symbol on it—a stylized V, identical to the one on the sword’s hilt.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Nodded.

“Of course. I should have guessed you’d figure it out.”

“What I don’t understand,” said Kelle, “is why you didn’t steal it yourself?”

“I did.” Seeing the confused looks on the children’s faces, he chuckled and motioned to nearby chairs. “It’s a long story. I was born under a different name—Evaken Velt.” He pointed to the sword as the orphans sat. “That was crafted by one of my ancestors and remained within my family for centuries.” Leaning on his shoulders, he rubbed his face. “Truth is, I never got along with my father.

“After a rather violent argument, I left. I was only sixteen at the time, and quickly realized too many people recognized my family name, so I changed it—changed all of it. Figured I might as well start from scratch. I eventually found my way to Salamandris and joined the Guild. Then, ten years ago, someone hired me to steal Moonthorn.

“The client had no idea who I was—ironic, isn’t it? I took the job because I saw it as a way to get back at my father. He loved that thing so much—more than me, I’m sure.” He made a dismissive gesture as he straightened in his chair. “But it was a mistake. The theft tore my family apart. My father became depressed to the point that my mother left him, and he eventually died of sorrow. My siblings have been fighting over the inheritance ever since. When I learned Vor Undig was coming back to Salamandris, I thought it was my chance to set things right, but I couldn’t do it myself because—”

“—he would recognize you?” said Kelle.

Romnad nodded. “That was part of it. But I also knew the best way to reach it was through the chimney, and I would never have fit in that narrow space.”

“So that’s why you picked us?” asked Thimmin.

“Not only.” The master thief gave them a sad smile. “Don’t sell yourselves short, kids. You’re very good at this, no matter what the Guildmasters think.” He waved toward the sword that Kelle had laid in her lap. “And you proved it again tonight.”

And he really meant it, too. She could tell. After all, it wasn’t like they were the only children in the Guild. They’d often worked with Romnad, too, and they got along well. And now he had done them this great service. It would be so much easier now to get more jobs and to work without supervision.

Thimmin sat up. “But why so much secrecy? Couldn’t you just—”

“—go against the rules and hire you myself?” The man snorted. “A thief is supposed to do the job, not hire another thief. Besides, Syrus might have remembered my involvement from last time, and I didn’t want to have to explain why I needed to do this. The fewer people know, the better.” A weary smile. “Now you had better go, and take Moonthorn with you.”

“But it’s yours!” protested Kelle.

The man hesitated. Reached out and brushed his fingers against the scabbard. Sighed.

“Do you want to do more missions on your own?”

“Yes, of course, but—”

He pulled away from the sword. “Then we had better keep up appearances. The Guildmasters must know you succeeded. Go back to the Needle and wait for Kerj. He’ll come on the agreed date with the agreed payment. Give him the sword and all will be well.” Seeing them hesitate, he added: “I’ve waited ten years for this, I can wait a few more days.”

The orphans finally relented.

As they headed toward the door, Romnad called out.

“And, kids, I hope I can count on you to keep this to yourselves?”

Kelle glanced back and nodded. “Of course.”

They stepped out into the chilly night, Moonthorn in the sack, with the sack strapped to her back.

***

On the fifth day, as expected, Kerj returned to the Needle. From the man’s startled look, Romnad had clearly not told him anything.

They gave him the sword and received their payment.

When all was done, Syrus sat them down in the meeting room.

“How did it go?”

“Very well,” said Kelle.

He quirked a brow.

“No, really.” She elbowed her friend. “Didn’t it, Thim? Tell him.”

The boy nodded. “Everything went fine.”

Syrus leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes darting from one orphan to the other.

“How did you deal with the magic?”

“There was nothing to deal with.” Kelle shrugged. “If there were spells once, they must have faded. More likely, they’re just rumors.”

“I see.” The Guildmaster pursed his lips, pondering. “I heard that Egon Amedara lost some of his memories. Doesn’t remember anything from that night. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

The children both shook their heads emphatically.

“Rather convenient,” he muttered.

“Very,” Kelle said with the most innocent look she could muster.

Syrus stared at her for a moment, then snorted and stood.

“Well done, you two, well done.”

Without another word, he spun and left.

Kelle grinned, turning to face Thimmin.

“That was amazing! Our first mission! We pulled it off!”

The boy nodded thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Aren’t you excited?”

“We’ll likely get more solo missions now,” he said cautiously, “and I’m glad about that...”

“But?”

He hesitated. “We’ll have to be careful what jobs we take on.”

“Are you still concerned about narrow spaces?” The thought made her roll her eyes. “We got in and out, didn’t we?”

“It’s not just that.”

“What then?”

“Something happened in that house that I don’t quite understand, and I don’t like it.”

She looked away and picked up the coin pouches from the table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There was magic in that house, Kelle. A lot of it.”

“I didn’t see any. I mean, there was that weird device, but that’s all.”

“And how did you do that to Egon?”

She stood and started for the door.

“I don’t know, Thim. It just made sense to me that if I reversed the process, it would have the reverse effect. Sounds like I was right.”

But how did she know how to do that? That was the part that puzzled him. Well, that, and all the air pinching.

He followed her outside.

They walked in silence.

As often they did, they went to the edge of the city and sat there with their feet dangling in the void, watching the mountains underneath.

“Kelle?”

“Yes?”

“I think you might have a talent for magic.”

The girl frowned but said nothing.

She picked up a pebble and threw it into the sky, and they watched it spiral down and down until it vanished beyond the clouds.

If you like my writing, please consider buying a copy of my novel, upgrading to a paid subscription, or making a Paypal or Ko-fi donation. As an independent author, any of these would help a lot!

Want to read more of Thimmin & Kelle’s adventures? Check these out:

• ​Salamandra Sun (our favorite orphans join the Guild and help steal the Sun!)
• ​Throne of Dagoth (how would one go about stealing a king’s throne?)

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Thank you!

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Text (c) 2025 by Alex S. Garcia.

Header: royalty-free stock image, edited by me.

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