“I want to steal all of Geist's witchstones.”

Flin stared back for a long moment as though he hadn't really heard what I said.

“You want… to steal… his witchstones?” With each set of words that Flin spoke, the confusion on his face grew.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling and nodding as I imagined the outcome. “I kinda do.”

“I don't follow,” Flin said. “From what you've said, he got you kicked out of Bristlebloom and the magick world for claiming that you scammed him, and now you actually want to scam him? To rob him?”

I twirled my tongue around that longer fang on the left side. I couldn't quit playing with it. “Yeah. I do.”

“To what end though?”

“To the end that gets me all of his inventory. All those witchstones.”

“It's not everything he owns though. He has a bank account.”

I smiled at Flin. “I don't need his bank account. I'm not trying to bankrupt him. Here's what I want, and this might seem stupid to you, but it's important to me: there's a theatre that my father bought when I was younger. I grew up playing in that theatre. Geist just stole that theatre out from under me. He over bid on it and drove the price up so high that I had to take on a job that left me spiraling, in his debt, and willing to do anything to stay in the magick world. The same job that cursed me with these horns.”

“So, you, what… want him to give you the theatre in exchange for giving all of his witchstones back?”

I nodded. It wasn't a groundbreaking plan, not by a longshot, but I wasn't willing to leave the magick world with just a curse. I was going to take the thing I wanted most and leave with that. I’d opened the door on a new world of possibilities and that door had been slammed on my face. That was fine. I could deal with that if I could at least manage to get the theatre out of it.

“What if he says no?” Flin asked.

“Then I’ll have a lot of witchstones to sell on the black market.”

Flin nodded. “Okay, I'll help you. Not because I think you deserve that theatre, or his witchstones, but because he never should've lied about you, never should've forced you out, never should've given you a witchstone to stonebreak. Do you know how long people have to train to be competent at stonebreaking?”

I shrugged and Flin continued, “I mean there's only ever been one truly competent stonebreaker and—”

Flin stopped talking and just stared at me.

“Yeah,” I said in a flat voice. “I know.”

“Right. I suppose you would. Okay… you're not expecting me to get you back into the magick world, right?”

Silly boy…

“No,” I said. “I have my own way in. I just need you to get me into Geist's shop.”

“I'm not going to help you move those witchstones either. I don't want any of this being traced back to me.”

“The only thing I need you to do is get Geist to leave his shop and to get me into it.”

Flin stared at me for a long time, thinking it over, trying to worry out any sort of weakness.

There were so many weaknesses that I wouldn't have been surprised if he’d said no at that point and walked away forever. I would've been upset, sure, but I would’ve understood.

Silvy, still lying down on the carpet between us, rolled over onto her stomach and sat up. “Your plan seems flimsy,” she said.

I looked down at her. “Yeah. I know. I'm trying to keep it open-ended in case anything goes wrong, that way I can pivot.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Silvy snorted. “Pivot? What is this, a startup?”

“No, but I want to be fluid in case I need to change plans.”

Silvy shrugged.

If she’d been in that witchstone for 578 years as she claimed, how could she know what a startup is?

My eyes narrowed and I guess she felt some of the suspicion coursing through my veins.

She stared right back into my face and said, “We'll talk about that later.”

“You're right,” I said. “We will.”

Silvy laughed. “I’d be more concerned with your plan. You have to live through this thing first. This masterful heist.”

I frowned. That’s exactly what this is, a heist.

“Are there alarms?” I asked Flin, but he just stared back as though he was waiting on something. “I'm talking to you now, Flin.”

“Oh,” he said, his shoulders jumping, “not that I know of. I think the only notable thing about Geist's shop is that it's warded.”

“Warded?”

“Yeah, but that shouldn't apply to you.”

“What's it warded against?”

Flin shrugged. “Probably against those Geist doesn't trust.”

“He wouldn't trust me,” I said.

“He also wouldn't expect you. Remember, he thinks you're a stick.”

I nodded.

“Speaking of,” Flin trailed off, raising his eyebrows.

I muttered, “I'm sure this is going to be just super nonoffensive.”

Flin smiled. “I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of this. How are you going to get into the magick world?”

“Leave that to me.”

“And you haven't mentioned anything about leaving Geist's. How are you going to get out with all those witchstones? What are you going to carry them in?”

A girl’s gotta have secrets… “Again, leave that to me.”

Flin opened his mouth to argue this, to dig deeper and stress test my plan, but I shook my head. “You said you didn't want to have anything to do with that part of the plan. I've got it covered and there will be no backfiring on you, it's fine.”

Flin nodded at me, but I could tell it was still bothering him. I could tell he really wanted to know. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. What else?”

“How do people contact each other in the magick world?” I asked. “I need a way for you to let me know when Geist has left his shop.”

“That would require me to be in his shop when he leaves. The best I can do is tell you when I've told him what you want me to tell him to get him to leave.”

I nodded. “Okay, but the question still stands: how do we contact each other? I assume phones don't work across plaines and shards.”

Flin nodded. “Lumadexes.”

“You can communicate with them too?”

“Yeah. They've got communication built in. It’s like FaceTime except in holographic form. Same idea.”

“What about messages? I don't think I need to holographically call you.”

Flin laughed. “Yeah, they do that too. There’s direct messaging as well as email.”

“Okay. Wonderful. Do you have one I can use?”

“Yeah, here.” He pulled a matte black chunk of rock out of his pocket. It was completely smooth, flat, and in the same shape as a cell phone. The only difference was that it was featureless minus the channels of different color crystals running across the surface. I flipped it over and saw that it had a clear crystal on the back with that same seal from my dorm room.

“I can use this?”

“Sure,” Flin shrugged. “That's an old model anyways.”

“An old model,” I said, surprised at how alike the stick world was to the magick world in some areas. Or was it how alike the magick world was to the stick world? Weren’t cell phones basically magick anyways?

Philosophy isn’t really a new hobby you have the time to pursue right now. Focus.

“Okay,” I said, “how do I work it?”

Flin came over to show me how to activate it and use the communications.

You now have a Lumadex capable of not just researching magick world items and things, but also of communicating with those in the magick world. Maybe you should consider whether it would make more sense for you to just keep Geist's witchstones and start your own business.

With the Lumadex I held, I could do that.

But I thought about the theatre. I couldn't turn my back on it. I couldn't turn my back on my father's legacy.

“Okay,” Flin said, watching as I sent him a test direct message. “What else?”

“I think that's it,” I said. “I just need you to message me when you've told him where to meet me.”

“And… where would that be?” he asked.

“Tell him to meet me at the ruins of Blackhart.”

Flin nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Wonderful,” I said.

Silvy disintegrated into smoke and spun up my arms in a billowy cloud. She slithered into my hood and wrapped herself around my neck.

“I still say you should just kill Geist,” she purred. “I say you should leave his body to me. Just let me have a little bit of a taste. That's all. A taste.”

“No,” I said.

“No?” Flin asked.

I sighed. “Just Silvy. Don't worry about it.”

Flin nodded. “Okay.”

It looked like the gravity of what he was signing on to do was setting in.

“Hey,” I said. “It's going to be fine. This is gonna work.”

“How do you know?” Flin asked.

“Because I'm lucky,” I lied. “Always have been.”

Flin nodded, not knowing the sheer captain-of-the-Titanic nature of the lie. “I guess I just have one final question.”

“Go on. We might as well get it all out in the open now, that way there'll be less questions when we start doing things.”

“Why would Geist meet you at the ruins of Blackhart? What would convince him to do that?”

It was the one thing I did have a handle on, the one thing I knew I could tell Geist that would get him to go to the ruins. To get him out of his shop.

“Tell him I know a way to get the Builder’s Stone. Tell him that I can get it for him.”