He felt the tug of Dylan’s grip on his right elbow. “She thinks you’ve got promise, you know that?”

Brayden grumbled as he watched the levi-train glide down its path into their station. His mentor pulled a cigarette from the pocket of his red leather jacket.

“Don’t screw this one up, Brayden.” Dylan lit the end of his smoke and blew a cloud of white into the wake of the slowing train. “You owe me that much.”

The young criminal turned his attention to the leathery, middle-aged man. Dylan read the indignation on his face immediately.

“When I found you,” he said through another drag, “you were little more than a street urchin begging and stealing to stay alive.” He led Brayden to the front of the cars, hovering just out of the black track’s reach. “I saw the same promise in you then. I gave you this.”

“Relax,” Brayden said, resting a hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “I won’t mess this job up.”

His teacher’s cold gray stare didn’t budge.

“I’ll be in and out without a trace.”

Dylan extended a hand to the train car. “I hope so.” He inhaled more of his lowbrow tobacco and dropped the cig to his side. “She won’t give you many more chances.”

Brayden stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and started toward the train car’s door.

“You know what you’re after in there?”

Brayden turned on the top step and nodded. “Small, round, and likely covered in an inch of dust.”

His mentor chuckled and brought his cig up to his lips for another drag. “Fine. Just complete the job and find me when you’re done.”

The youthful bandit bobbed his head once and trudged into the car of the anti-gravity train. His early training in the guild had taught Brayden that sitting near the back of any form of transportation tended to single you out to Tylessian authorities as a troublemaker. Dylan’s wisdom rang in his mind: the last thing you need to do is give those pigs a reason to trail you.

He took up a window seat across the aisle from an attractive older woman and her young son. She swept the light brown curls behind an ear and looked to him wearing a smile. Brayden returned the nonchalant gesture and gazed out the window.

“This train will make stops in,” the automated feminine voice paused, “Grollville, Sental, and Rohmchester before terminating in Harmony Valley.”

The twenty-something thief looked to the scrolling names as they passed on the screen at the front of the car in big red letters. They’re sending me way the hell out there this time.

“Please secure items for departure,” the voice said. “First stop – Grollville. Time to arrival is ten minutes.”

The line of train cars sped off across the open fields as Brayden rested his head against the cool glass. Once the levi-train heading in the opposite direction passed, he could see the rolling hills of grain off in the distance. He had been out this line as far as Sental before. While the vineyard countryside held its beauty and charms, it did little to entertain the man for half an hour.

Brayden pulled out the clear slip of film from his coat pocket and watched as the yellow line representing their train advanced along its route. His blue stare fell on the small dot at the end of the ticket’s map: Harmony Valley.

“I wonder how long of a hike it’s going to be to get to this dump.”

He didn’t know a lot about the Order of Empyra, but from what Brayden had gathered, they were an ancient knighthood devoted to protecting the treasures of Tylessi’s old gods. They maintained a handful of temples throughout the world, but their significance had long since departed.

Worthless and brainwashed.

He stuffed his flimsy ticket back into its pocket and lowered his stare to the rustling grass near the base of the train.

“Momma,” the little boy across the aisle said, “do you think daddy will let me help him with the grapes again?”

His mother caressed the back of his head. “I’m sure he’d love to have your help, dear.”

Being a kid has so many advantages. Brayden curled up against the window and let his mind relax. No responsibilities, no bills, hell – no real need for money. He glanced up at the passing livestock in the meadows outside. Then again, you have your parents at least. No matter how hard he tried, Brayden couldn’t conjure up even a faint image of his mother or father.

“Come to think of it,” he muttered to the glass, “my childhood is a complete blur, too.”

An overwhelming cloud of doubt had followed him for the past several weeks since Brayden had awakened in the gutter on the streets of New Plesto. He hadn’t had the time to stop and contemplate then, but now – in this comfortable silence – the thief wrestled with every doubt.

Nothing about my best friends, pets, nada. Brayden huddled his coat closer. Not so much as a daydream.

The sting of a thousand needles jerked Brayden out of his dreams. He pulled his left cheek from the glass as the levi-train came to rest at the end of its line.

“Last stop,” the train’s robotic voice said. “Harmony Valley. Mind your step when alighting from the train.”

Once he had funneled out of the hovering train, Brayden followed the crowd into the downtown area of this hamlet. The thoroughfares throughout Harmony Valley were all made of rounded stones laid in intricate patterns. Golden rays of the setting sun clung to the distant hillsides for dear life as he wandered into the main plaza. Several of its blue collar residents exchanged farewells as they made their way around the square’s three level fountain toward home. From the look of the squat buildings and old hanging lanterns along the storefronts, Brayden surmised that the town’s main businesses were either artisan-related or agricultural. The distant brays of both cattle and sheep confirmed his suspicions. Knowing that his time to get directions to the temple grew short, the young man strode into the closest shop and up to its proprietor.

“Pardon me,” Brayden said, tapping the portly middle-aged woman’s forearm.

She turned her sorrowful brown eyes up to meet his. Her dingy salt-and-pepper curls fell over her elongated forehead.

“Do you know the way to the temple from here?”

She swept her small hummock of dust over the toe of his black boot and shuffled past him. “The only temple I know of is the one those warriors look after, but it’s way out in the wilderness.” She poked a mean eye back over her shoulder at him. “What would a youngster like you want with an old set of ruins like that?”

Nosey old hag. He had to whip up something good. “I’m – going there to seek entrance into their Order, madam.”

She pushed the remnants of her grime back out into the passing breeze as the blue lantern on her store’s façade flickered to life. “You don’t seem like the religious sort to me, if you don’t mind my sayin’ it.”

He plucked a plump piece of fruit from one of the large bins and set a few coins on her countertop. “I’m near the end of my pilgrimage.”

The cantankerous old lady leaned her broom against the door jam and waddled back behind her counter to complete the transaction. “If I were you,” she said, setting the change into her money box, “I’d get started over those hills to the north of town. It’ll be a full day’s journey on foot.”

Brayden took a bite out of the hard fruit and started toward the exit. “Do you know of anyone in town that has hovercraft for rent or sale?”

She chuckled and waved at a passing villager. “Out here?” The storekeeper shook her curls. “Your best bet would be a horse or caravan, but I don’t know of any of those up for grabs either.”

The perturbed youth grumbled into his next bite of apple. “I hate old country towns.”

“What was that?” The old lady bent out over her counter. “I’m gettin’ hard of hearin’ these days.”

Brayden swallowed his bite and walked out the door. “I said I’m sure I’ll find my way around.”

He had packed his oversized coat pockets with enough dried fruit and nuts to make it to his destination and back. The little old hag would never suspect that the items had been lifted unless she stopped to take inventory. By then, he would be a hazy memory.

Tylessi’s sun finally made its descent below the horizon relinquishing her watch to the trio of moons and a sea of stars. Tonight the world’s three celestial satellites sat in a large triangular cluster in the northeastern skies. Cirso, the largest of them, sat like a silver platter just above the hillside. The twins -- Lyyrah, small and emerald and her ruby red brother, Larko – hung over either shoulder. Brayden waded through the thigh-high grass and weeds along an animal trail up the side of one of the hills. A pair of cities sailed high overhead blotting out large swatches of the heavens. The young thief stopped to catch his breath atop the mountain and watched the blue contrails of the passing traffic between Tarsys City and Gillean’s Hold.

“I wonder what keeps them in place,” he mused as his blue stare followed the passing aircraft. His eyes narrowed into slits as the memory of massive shimmering buildings of glass and steel overwhelmed his imagination. “Solstice.” His thoughts lingered for a moment longer, chasing after the ghost.

A fog of fatigue settled in over Brayden’s mind and body. He could stop here for the night and use tomorrow night for the job, or he could press onward now and finish the job ahead of schedule. A catnap sounded amazing at the moment.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’ve already pissed her off once.” Brayden groaned and looked to the valley on the other side. “Let’s get this over with.”