Alcide hopped down from the pillar and coughed. “This is fun and all, but are we going to split the loot now, or what? I want to get home already.” Her gang gathered around her, eyes filled with eagerness and caution.

The glint in Zal’s eyes darkened for just a moment before he gave a friendly smile. His hands went to his pockets, and Alcide’s eyes followed hungrily.

The baubles glinted in the low light of the temple as he piled them onto the soft grass. There were devices for sharpening a sword beyond what a honing stone could do, trinkets for adding a subtle glow to the wearer, and a dozen other things Maz could only guess the purpose of. Runes and power stones adorned their gold and silver surfaces: truly the work of masters. His fingers itched to take one home for himself.

Zal crouched over the pile and laid them out in a line. He counted aloud and added a bauble for each of Alcide’s gang, then a pair for him and Maz. He paused, hand hovering over the last few devices. “I did most of the organizing, did I not?” He added an item to his pile. “And my brother caused a mighty distraction, allowing me time to grab all of this.” He added a second item, and gave the last to Alcide’s pile. “I would say that is fair, don’t you?”

The mop-headed girl flushed. “Distraction? You said it yourself, he got the guard called down on us. We’ll all have to lay low for weeks now.”

“Ah, but you’ll be resting at your ease, with full bellies and fresh clothes, after you sell all this. I promise, you won’t be in any danger.”

“No? Then where is Terat? You forgot him, didn’t you? He deserves his share, even if he is late,” said Alcide.

Zal’s face fell in rehearsed disappointment, but he added a device to Alcide’s pile and nodded. Alcide darted over, stuffing the devices in her own pockets. She whistled and her troupe bolted out of the temple.

“I’m sure he just got lost!” Zal shouted at her back.

Maz ignored the street urchin’s departure and watched his brother’s face, shoulders tense. But the moment Alcide’s footsteps faded the older boy burst into a deep belly laugh. He reached into his coat and brought out a handful more trinkets. His hand was friendly as he clapped Maz on the back.

“Come on, let’s take these to Eagle. I want them off our hands as soon as possible. You can come too—I’ll introduce you. It’s about time you got to learn more of the family business.”

“Eagle? Are you sure?” asked Maz.

“You’re old enough, no matter what Uncle Ratham says.”

Excitement and pride swelled in Maz’s breast, and he bounced on his toes. Eagle was the real deal, he fenced for the temple of Ixla itself! He squared his shoulders. When he was a thief, he would only steal from bad people. He wouldn’t be like Zal or Alcide, who took from whoever was in their path. He would be like his grandfather and namesake, who was powerful enough to pick and choose his jobs, to steal from whoever he pleased.

Maz quivered with exuberance, and Zal ruffled his hair in a rare show of affection before turning and walking out of the temple ruins.

Eagle’s shop was in the lower ring of the city, far from the prosperous shop they had just robbed. The trip down the trams had cost them a copper each, and an hour of time, but he was the best fence in the city. Zal would go to no other. Maz secretly suspected that was because Zal didn’t know any other fences, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud.

His belly grumbled, but he shoved the ever-present hunger from his mind. Meeting Eagle—this was serious business. The next step to becoming a thief.

Familiar doubt flickered in his chest at the thought, but he shoved it down. He would show Zal just how good a thief he could be.

The back alley smelled of muck and human waste, but he did his best to impress the filthy passageways into his memory. The twisting path took them deep into the rat’s nest of decaying buildings and boarded up shops known as the Snakeways.

Maz kept one hand on the knife Zal had given him for his birthday last year. The blade was short, the length of his fingers, and the handle was a little splintery, but it was the first knife he had ever owned, and he kept it razor sharp. This was where the real thieves lived, the kind that prayed to Ixla. Maz couldn’t imagine praying to such a two-faced god; he put his faith in Oarae instead, and prayed to her now that they would pass unnoticed.

Even the dim, smelly alleyways did little to quash his anxiety, and his back was tight with tension by the time they reached Eagle’s grime-encrusted door. Zal knocked in a rhythmic pattern and, after a still moment, the door opened a crack. The man glared down at him, blue eyes sharp. Maz could just make out thinning grey hair and a stubbled chin through the crack in the door. Eagle. He frowned down at Zal.

“Zalphrael Serphant. What can I do for you this fine evening?”

Zal jingled his pockets and grinned. Eagle raised an eyebrow, but opened the door for him. Maz attempted to follow, but Eagle held out his hand.

“He’s my brother,” said Zal, not bothering to look back.

Eagle sighed, but opened the door for Maz as well. “Another bloody Serphant. Just what this city needs.”

Zal grinned. “Yes, it is exactly what the city needs. How else am I supposed to rebuild the family empire without a little help from my only brother? Not like Uncle Ratham is having any luck.”

Maz’s eyes widened. Uncle Ratham was trying to rebuild grandfather’s empire? No wonder he was never home. Eagle muttered something unpleasant under his breath, but allowed Maz to dart under his outstretched arm and catch up to Zal.

The back room of Eagle’s shop was filled floor to ceiling with shelves containing boxes labeled with clear writing. Maz wove between them, wishing he could read the tags on the items. Goblets and silverware and runed devices made tempting targets for his itchy fingers, but he didn’t dare anger the best fence in the city.

Zal ignored the stolen goods on the shelves and turned a corner into Eagle’s office, which was just as clean and tidy as his storage room. A plain wooden desk stood at the far wall with nothing but a quill and ink pot upon its polished surface. More shelves flanked the desk, holding lock boxes and sturdy chests.

Maz followed as Zal threw himself into one of the wooden chairs that faced the desk and began digging the trinkets out of his pockets. Eagle shuffled behind the desk and Maz eased himself into the second seat beside his brother.

Eagle eyed Maz. “Bit young, ain’t he?”

Maz smiled the way Zal did when he was trying to be charming. “Gotta learn sometime.”

Eagle’s gaze flicked from the glistening pile to Zal, who stared back without flinching. “Hm. So you say. What’s your uncle think about all this?”

Zal turned away. “Uncle Rathan won’t let us join him until we reach sixteen.”

“Join—I’m talking family, boy. Your brother is what, eight?”

Maz held up his hand. “Nine, sir. And the name is Maz. Mazrael Serphant.”

“Named after your grandfather, are ya? I used to fence for him, you know. Mazrael Serphant, King of Thieves. A great man.” Maz grinned, and Eagle pulled the pile of trinkets over to his side of the desk and began to examine them one by one. “It was a sad day in Crasmere when the guards caught him. They got your mother too, that day, didn’t they? Tore his whole empire down. Hasn’t been one like him since. That uncle of yours means to change that though, doesn’t he?”

Zal crossed his arms. “We didn’t come for story time, Eagle,” he said slowly.

“Hold your tongue, little one, I’m getting to it.” Eagle sorted the trinkets into three piles. “Five silver each for these two, three silver for the middle stack, and you can keep this last one. I don’t have a use for toys.”

Zal surged up from his chair, face red. “Five silver for a Brand of Emna? A thief will pay ten times that!”

Eagle gave an unfriendly smile and picked up the brand, and gave the silver wheel on its side a flick. The carved runes on the box’s side sputtered to life, emitting a golden glow, far brighter than the light of a candle. He flicked the wheel again and set it down on the desk. “Correction, little snake. They will pay me ten times that. You aren’t your uncle yet.”

Zal’s fists clenched and unclenched, but he sat down without a word. Maz released a breath and leaned back in his chair. Disaster averted. The last thing he wanted was another hungry night if Zal flubbed this deal. He eyed his brother. That temper of his was getting harder to control.

Eagle pulled open a drawer and pulled a key on a golden chain off his neck. He chuckled without humour as Zal’s eyes tracked him as he unlocked the top drawer of his desk. He pulled out a handful of coins and counted them out one by one, laying each down with deliberate thunks onto the desk.

“And there we are. Nineteen silver coins. A pretty good haul for a pair of miniature thieves.”

Zal scowled, but held his tongue as he shook Eagle’s hand, then took the coins. Maz picked up the toy and clicked the lever. A fountain of tiny red sparks flew into the air, and he tucked it into his pocket with a grin. He felt like a real thief now.

The walk back home was quiet. Well, as quiet as a city like Crasmere could get. The late afternoon sun shone over crowds of craftswomen and househusbands, but the brothers did not walk among them. Despite Zal’s earlier bravado about them all being safe, they stuck to the shadows of the alleyways. The extra length it added to their journey was well worth it.

It felt like there were more guards out than normal, despite being far from the upper ring of the city. Maz was sure he was imagining things, but still, he kept close to his brother’s back.

Zal walked with all his usual swagger. He strutted like the shadows were a cloak tied at his neck, like the homeless sleeping in the alleys were his faithful subjects. Maz, on the other hand, felt like knives were pointed at his back. The excitement of the theft and from visiting Eagle were long gone, and he just wanted to be home.

Home. The basement of their uncle’s house. Better than living on the streets, but still damp and full of spiders. The upper floors weren’t much better, but Uncle Ratham liked the privacy the little house gave, tucked away on a back alley as it was, far from the markets and entrances to the upper rings of the city.

They were only a few streets away from home when Zal’s hand slapped him in the chest, jarring him out of his reverie. Zal pushed Maz back into the alley and dropped into a crouch. There in the street was a contingent of guards. And with them was a small boy with messy blonde hair.

Terat. The boy who had never made it back to the rendezvous. Zal motioned for Maz to wait there, and crept forward. But Maz couldn’t help but follow, stepping carefully to stay silent.

“. . .Around here, I swear.”

A guard with a coarse black mustache cuffed him on the back of the head. “‘Around here’ isn’t good enough, streetling. Lead us to the ringleader’s house, or you’re going straight to the stocks, hear me?”

Terat hunched his shoulders and turned in a circle. Maz and Zal ducked back, but too slowly. Terat pointed. “There!” As the guards turned in their direction. Zal hauled Maz to his feet and took his hand.

They bolted.

They vaulted over prone forms on the ground and skirted around broken crates as the guards crashed into the alley behind them. Maz did his best to keep up with his brother’s longer legs, but soon his lungs were burning. He kept moving, but it wasn’t enough. He stumbled, and only Zal’s hand kept him from falling.

The guards were close behind them, but they didn’t know this part of the city like Maz and Zal did. Zal led them away from the house, deeper into the maze of mouldering buildings and twisting alleyways. He ducked in and out of abandoned houses, the shouts of the squatters trailing behind them.

The guards trailed too. With each twist and turn the brothers gained a little bit of a lead, even with Maz’s increasing clumsiness. Zal eventually allowed them to slow, listening for sounds of pursuit.


Thank you for reading! If you’d like to get early access and exclusive stories, support us on Patreon! You are also invited to join the community and stay in touch! Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/worldsmyths Discord Invite - https://discord.gg/dCW3b6g