The heat of the sun on her frozen toes woke her. Llew lay a few more moments, pulling the blanket up her legs, savoring the heat & drinking in the perfumed air. There was little in her life she cherished, but moments like these almost made everything worth it.

She dragged herself from her bed, pulled on her clean shirt, which was a little too tight across the shoulders & hinted at the breasts she preferred to keep hidden.

She sharpened her knife on a stone, grabbed tufts of hair in her other hand & hacked. The fringe had grown to her eyebrows & the sides were nearly covering her ears. Too long. She cared little for the end result – the less pretty the better. By the time she finished, the sun was well up. The market would be in full swing.

She struggled into the damp pants, fastened her belt, &d headed for town, hoping brown stains on brown material would pass unnoticed.

The monthly market was one of the few times the people of Cheer really mingled. Women displayed their curves with cinched-in waists below elegant necklines, & men wore pressed shirts, trousers hooked up by suspenders, & vests decorated with gold chains & pocket watches. They preened & swaggered, yet still shared the street with the others who had arrived in Cheer too late to make their fortune. The predominant color was brown in all its shades, with splashes of red, blue or yellow marking either a woman of class or a girl prospecting for tricks.

Llew was invisible among the finery & silent amid the propositions.

She had already collected three purses when something caught her eye. Two things, but there was only one she would be taking with her. That was a knife. It hung from a belt slung across a pair of trousers filled in a most tantalizing way by a fine arse. She watched the way the folds of material moved & shifted as the owner passed by stalls selling every variety of produce from meats to baked goods, hand-made crafts, & even entertainment in the form of song or dance. If Llew walked about with a knife like that slung from her hip, people would reconsider pushing her into alleyways. She was halfway certain the knife’s finely carved ivory, or bone, handle had drawn her eye down first. A knife like that made a statement.

She needed that knife.

Her eyes trailed the handle everywhere it went. Her feet followed, & the rest of her body weaved its way between people & stalls. The arse & knife stopped. So did another street kid thinking he was in with a shot, & anger flashed through Llew. The knife was hers!

Whipping round so fast she barely saw him move, the man bared his teeth & growled at the would-be thief, frightening the desire for the weapon right out of him. Side-on, Llew could see the man’s vest. A leather vest, heavy with smaller knives. Not small knives, just smaller than the one on his hip. She nearly reconsidered her need for the knife but was convinced she needed it more than the man did. He did, after all, have all those others at his disposal.

The boy stammered out an apology. Released, he ran with absolutely no care for who he bumped into along the way. So unprofessional.

The long-haired man in his dusty black, wide-brimmed hat turned & muttered something to his curly-haired companion. Both men laughed & turned their attention to a stall selling a range of meaty nibbles. Llew moved closer.

It was hard to stay inconspicuous. People divided around her; she was like rock poking through water’s surface. While extra height had its advantages, it was beginning to get ridiculous. Llew was keeping pace with most of the boys she knew, & despite most girls her age having matured a couple of years earlier, she only seemed to be getting taller & a little broader. No worthwhile breasts, though, damn it, just enough to compromise her pose as a boy.

As if to rub it in, a stylish dress with a tasteful neckline cupping two beautiful, rounded breasts, hooked Llew’s attention on its way past. It disappeared back into the crowd & she looked down at her own shirt that hung almost straight down – straight down enough, for nearly everyone to assume she was a boy, which was fine by Llew, really, it was. A girl her age, with no parents, was better off being seen as a boy in a place like Cheer. Still, it didn’t stop a small part of her coveting the chance to wear a pretty dress one day. One day. Not today, though. Dresses tended to lack pockets.

The task at hand was the knife, & the opportunity to take it presented itself while the men were distracted by a clown hopping around with bells attached to his shoes. He jiggled these in the air while he juggled flaming batons. The taller, curly-haired man’s eyes shone in delight at the display. The shorter, darker, knife carrier watched as a fellow professional might: nothing escaped his attention.

Llew moved in, her hand twitching, her finely honed muscles tensed. Keeping her eyes on the men &  concentrating on looking like a casual passer-by to other passers-by, she flicked the domed catch securing the knife in place, then moved with the dark-skinned man as he shifted his weight. She gripped the end of the knife handle between finger & thumb, & pulled: gently, but swiftly.

She withdrew back into the throng. She hefted the knife a couple of times & smiled at the weight & balance. There was something so right about it.

She slid the knife into her belt & pulled her shirt as low as it would go. The tip hung below the linen, but it wasn’t enough to give the game away, she was sure.

‘Hey!’

Now she was less sure. A quick glance over her shoulder removed all doubt. He was enraged, & he & his companion were pushing through the crowd toward her.

Llew took off, ducking fancy hats & parasols. She spared a moment of thanks for the unusually long legs that carried her through the crowd just as fast as the men following her. Skirting parcels & large bellies, & leaving a trail of indignant exclamations, she soon reached the edge of the market & slipped around the corner of a blacksmith’s forge. Clinging to the wood-paneled wall, she listened intently. No footsteps to be heard. She took the chance to breathe deeply & relax. Being there, smelling the furnace & hearing the clang, she as always felt contempt for the men who’d told her she couldn’t run her father’s smithy when he disappeared. Who were they to judge her ability? Being a girl had nothing to do with it. She had worked by his side for years & was perfectly capable.

Hearing a creak, Llew looked up, but could see naught save the eaves of the roof. She stepped out from the building for a better look.

A crouching figure pounced. The sun, suddenly revealed, blinded her & she was thrown back, her head ringing from its collision with the road. Her wrists were pressed to the ground either side of her head. Her vision cleared to reveal a face framed by sandy-brown hair. She recognized the knife-owner’s companion. He was grim, although there was something else there; a hint of exhilaration lit up the blue eyes. She struggled in his grasp, but he was strong & straddled her across the middle. Another set of footsteps approached &  then a hand gripped her collar. The curly-haired man stood as she was wrenched from the ground & shoved into the nearby wall. Something sharp pressed against her chest.

She glanced down at a compact crossbow, loaded, & digging into her sternum; she looked up into a dark, scowling face.

If he hadn’t been threatening her, she might have thought he was attractive despite the scars – a peculiar hand-shaped burn under his jaw & a couple of lines through an eyebrow, among others. He had a darker complexion than most Cheer locals, with brown eyes & long dark hair. The wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow across his eyes.

‘Well, you’re a ray of sunlight on a cloudy day. Or should that be the other way around?’

‘Shut up,’ he said. His voice was deep & gravelly though he looked barely in his twenties. He spoke with an accent. Not local, then.

‘Jonas—’

‘Back off, Al. He took my knife,’ he said over his shoulder without breaking eye-contact with Llew. Then he leaned in so close she could taste his breath. ‘Now, give it back.’ He spoke quietly, but the commanding tone made her jump. The point of the crossbow grazed her chest through the thin shirt.

‘Alright, alright!’ She fumbled at her waistband to free the knife. ‘Could you consider maybe not pressing that thing into me? I think you’ve drawn blood.’ Sure enough, a little red seeped through the linen. Great. More blood-stained clothing. She held the knife up next to her head & managed to bite her tongue against further comments. She guessed he was one to take care of his own problems rather than turning to the authorities – something that could work in her favor, if she played her hand right. Of course, it could also go horribly wrong.

He grabbed the knife, &, stepping back, sheathed it. Then his fist was in her gut, emptying her lungs & folding her over. He turned on his heel, saying, ‘Come on, Al. We got work to do.’

‘Thanks for the sport.’ Al grinned & his blue eyes flashed. ‘It’s been fun.’

Clutching her belly, Llew watched them disappear around the corner. A punch in the gut beat being hauled off to the gallows any day. Even as she coughed up phlegm & tried to take in a full breath, she was intrigued. They were certainly not locals.

The scratch on her chest stung. She scanned the area about her, then saw what she was after. Across the street, perched in a windowsill, sat a flower box overflowing with flourishing forget-me-nots. Ignoring the sign on the wall decreeing a ‘Magic-free Aghacia’, she brushed her fingertips across the leaves. They wilted. The pain in her gut eased & the graze on her chest tingled & ceased to hurt.

The flash of a dead man filled her mind’s eye, & for the first time in her life, Llew felt guilty for killing a plant. But she couldn’t return life. Once stolen, it remained in her possession.

Under the weight of the three purses, her trousers sat awry, revealing the slim hip under a too-short shirt. Time to rectify that. She turned back toward the market.

From the street corner she watched the two foreigners take the few wooden steps up to the grocer’s. While physically smaller both in height & breadth, the one called Jonas had an aura of power that labeled him the leader of the two, but they both moved with a confidence Llew envied. She wondered what kind of work they could be doing but had little doubt that soon they would be moving on & leaving Cheer. Her envy grew.

Yet Llew loved Cheer. It was her hometown, & the kind of town where people could make their fortune. The only problem with that was that one needed a small fortune to get the equipment required to plunder the hills & high-country rivers. These days, absentee rich miners hired locals to do the back-breaking labor so that there was a steady, if dwindling, flow of gold out of Cheer; less & less of anything coming in.

At least Cheer, & Aghacia as a whole, was untouched by the wars Llew saw mentioned almost daily in the broadsheets. That was where Cheer truly shined. Peace reigned. Its earliest settlers had hailed from far off lands Llew knew little about. Recent arrivals usually came from Phyos, the large continent to the east of Aghacia, bringing news of the ongoing wars between Quaver & Turhmos. Llew knew she’d been born in Quaver, but otherwise knew nothing of anywhere beyond Cheer. There was no denying Cheer’s natural beauty if one took the time to go beyond those areas touched by settlers, whose greed recognized no boundary.

She made her way back up the main street, scooting around & past people studying the goods on offer or dawdling away from the temptation to spend more.

‘Hey, Llew!’

Llew cursed under her breath. A one-time close friend, these days Kynas made her skin crawl.

Still, he was about the only real friend she’d ever had.

‘Hi, Kynas.’ She slowed her pace, allowing him to fall in beside her.

‘It’s been a good day.’ He grinned, patting his pocket. ‘Did you have a good day?’

She jiggled the pouches hanging off her waist.

‘Great,’ he said, the jealousy only touching his features for an instant. ‘You wanna come by my place?’

‘No, Kynas. I’m not in the mood.’

‘You ain’t been in the mood all summer.’ The boy pouted & stopped walking.

No.

Kynas had managed to pick up a job doing odds & ends for an elderly couple, the Maddockses. They couldn’t pay him but allowed him to make a small outbuilding on their property his own. Llew had been known to share it with him on cold winter evenings. But it wasn’t winter yet.

For a few years now they had been friends, looking out for each other. Kynas had even helped her make the transition to life on the street – it wasn’t her fault she had soon outstripped him in the skills he taught. But last winter something had changed. Huddling together to keep warm had become something different. They had experimented, explored themselves & each other. For a while it had been fun. But it wasn’t long before Kynas wanted to play when Llew didn’t. & suddenly the shelter wasn’t free to her anymore. Their friendship had irreversibly altered.

She continued walking. She wasn’t about to prostitute herself just to make him feel better. He should know that. Llew had cut her hair short, taken to dressing like a boy, & learned the art of picking pockets to avoid that lifestyle. Besides, there were plenty of others willing to see to his needs. Well, okay, so she’d originally cut her hair & worn pants to please her father, who preferred having a son over a daughter who reminded him so much of his wife. But she had kept the look for her own reasons.

She stopped at Inael’s store to try on some shirts. With little occasion to dress up & not enough money to be concerned about matching styles & colors, she stuck to her usual off-white linen. She bought two shirts, figuring it was handy to be able to wash one while still having something decent to wear. She thanked old Inael & skipped down the steps & back onto the dirt road heading for home.

The streets were quieter away from the market. Llew strolled along with her head up like any other respectable citizen. When she wasn’t picking pockets, she found that skulking only served to attract more attention, so it was always best to behave like an innocent. The trick was to look natural doing so.

‘Llew!’

Llew turned to the distressed voice. ‘Kynas?’

The boy was struggling in the grip of two uniformed men. Farries! Llew instinctively stooped, stepping in by the side of a building.

‘Help me, Llew! They think I killed Mr. Maddocks!’

‘Well, who else?’ one of the Farries said, shaking Kynas. Cursing, Llew pressed herself deeper into the shadows.

It would be stupid of the boy to put his deal with the Maddockses at risk, but it was a natural conclusion for the lawmen to draw – & any excuse to remove another urchin from Cheer’s streets would do.

‘I don’t know!’ Kynas wailed, kicking his legs & trying to wriggle free of the Farry’s grasp. Realizing his efforts were futile, he relaxed. Then his finger pointed to Llew. ‘That one. Sh— He did it!’