*Scratch, scratch, scratch...* The sound went on, regular as clockwork amidst the eerie cries of the inmates.

Ben was kneeling on the wooden floor, working with a newly 'found' knife. There was scant light to go by and so his hands were guiding him, while his mind drifted. Last night's lesson had gone wrong. He had tried teaching Cleo about opening her own door during a few long, frustrating hours. The girl's temper had been growing worse at each failure. She had chided him as she tried repeatedly, using her frail hands and arms, to beat the lock. The lady had known a lot of tutors in her life, and Ben had been the worst, she had said. He didn't understand what was so complicated. You just used the tension wrench as if it was the key while you wiggled a thin pick with the other hand. You went wiggle-wiggle-click, he had told her. And wiggle-wiggle-clonk, then you twisted the wrench and that was it. 'How does any of it makes any sort of sense?' she had screamed, lifting her hands up in despair. 'Don't know 'bout 'em teachers much, but I'm pretty sure they the ones supposed to do the yelling though. Not the other way 'round.' Ben had shot back, wich had only made her grow the more furious.

*Clonk!* A noise came from behind him, followed by a small cry of victory. He didn't turn back.

"Again." He said, over the cloth covering his face, before resuming his own work.

*Scratch, scratch, scratch...* He heard Cleo curse behind him, her voice muffled by her own scarf.

The girl was doing better tonight, her idea must have succeeded. She needed to comprehend the contraption's workings, she had told him. Ben didn't get how seeing the inside of it would help. It was just about wiggling and listening, then twisting at the right time. But she had to understand the whole damn thing. Smart folks sure were complicated, he sighed.

What had followed must have been the dumbest burglary of history, he recalled. Cleo had needed an entire lock to dismantle and study. So Ben had gone looking for one right after they had parted, a couple hours before dawn the previous day. The devices being made of metal meant they were too precious to throw away. There was no chance to find a discarded one then, and he had no coin to spare and buy it. Some poor merchant was probably still staring stupidly at the gaping hole in his own door. Wondering since morning why someone had cut the wood all around the lock and pulled it out, without taking anything else in the house. Ben chuckled picturing the scene. He would have loved to check what he could find in a trader's home though. But daylight had begun to show itself, and the thief had chosen to leave with his piece of a door. Mae had looked at him real funny when he had come back carrying the weird bounty.

*Clonk!* Another success.

"Again." He said absent-mindedly.

*Scratch, scratch, scratch...*

"How many times do I have to repeat the whole process?" She asked, frustrated. Ben paused and turned to face the girl.

"Many as it takes. Gotta know to do it real quick, less ya want to be found sleepin' with yer door open. Smoke's nastiest when weeds are fresh. Ya don't got much time before it fils yer room and knock ya out." He explained. They both went back to their respective tasks.

Last day's tutoring having proved itself a failure, Ben had come back the following night. He had forced open Cleo's cell once more, only to find her awake. The young man wondered about the reason for it. She couldn't be getting a lot more used to the smokes after four years. Maybe the scarf she was wearing had helped a bit. Or maybe Ben arriving earlier, not having taken a detour for food beforehand this time, had something to do with it. They had spent the first part of the evening waiting on the roof for the fumes to disperse, while breaking apart the stolen lock. Cleo had talked of levers, springs and other things, nodding to herself in understanding as she manipulated them. 'It is quite the simple mechanism in fact.' She had said and Ben had almost shot back that of course, it was damn simple. You just wiggled and twisted. But then she had explained the functioning of the object to him. He might not be able to retell everything the way she had, but the whole thing had made sense. He marveled -girl might be half mad, but the other half is all kinds of smart and more-.

*Clonk!*

*Scratch, scratch, scratch...*

"Again."

"Is it necessary for you to make this much noise? It does not help me concentrate, really. What could you be working on that would require such mess anyway? I assume you plan on putting my bedding back together afterward." Cleo's voice came, more irritated now. Ben ignored her.

She had grown sullen since last night, he observed. Since he had asked her about nobles houses. The lady sure didn't like thieving. Where did she think the bread she had eaten so eagerly came from? Ben had kept the comment to himself though, Cleo was pissed enough as it was. Why she didn't like the idea of helping him robbing upper own houses, he couldn't figure it out. It was better than stealing from the poor ones anyway. Rich folks probably wouldn't miss a bit of silver, plus they didn't starve afterward. The more he knew about rich folks... he sighed.

*Clonk!* She was getting faster, Ben noted has he finished his own work.

"How quick does the whole process have to be? I am not confident that I can do much faster." She sounded less angry than despaired now.

"How long did ya say ya waited for me tonight?" He demanded, turning his head towards her.

"I counted to a thousand and seventy-five seconds, though I believe I could be off by a dozen or so." The girl told him. Ben gave her a blank stare in response.

"Seventeen minutes and fifty-five seconds." She clarified, looking as if remembering some people wouldn't do the conversion in their heads. Ben reflected on the timing, roughly eighteen minutes assuming she couldn't stay awake longer.

"Yer sure them left right after they came to yer room?" The thief said as he considered the logistics.

"As far as my hearing could tell, my chambers are the last one the priests visited, yes."

"Gotta give'em a good five minutes to leave, jus' to be sure. Then pick yer door, walk to the other one and open it as well..." He mused out loud, doubtful.

"You were not even measuring time as I practiced, let alone sparing a glance in my direction! You were only toying with your knife, doing god knows what to my floor!" She protested. The girl sure liked to yell, Ben remarked.

The timing was too damn close. A lot of different things could go wrong, and Cleo needed more time just in case. If she failed, she would go back to full-cracked, and everything would have been for naught. She was only half-crazy now, Ben reflected, and the lass was trouble enough already. The scene she would make if he told her to have another go at the door might be entertaining though. He almost smirked at the idea, but changed his mind noticing her staring hard at him. Ben still couldn't make out the color of her eyes, they had only been meeting in the dark after all. He did see the scars and burnt skin though, these were creeping him out a bit. Poor thing was all kinds of ugly, weird and scary, but he couldn't help feeling bad for her. He sighed.

"A'right, good job Cleo." Her shoulders dropped with relief and she let out the breath she was holding. Ben stood up from where he was kneeling. He wiped his hands on his breeches before motioning her to draw close and inspect his own job.

"Made a hiding spot for ya. Can't have them godfolks findin' yer tools now can't we?" He smiled proudly. Cleo knelt beside the hole.

"See, ya jus' move this piece here, put stuff under 'n put it back. Then make the bed on top and yer all good." Ben showed her, moving the lid he had carved in the wooden floor.

"Your work shall prove useful indeed, you have my thanks, Ben." Cleo said, satisfied after she had practiced opening the cache and closing it back a couple times.

"A'right, gotta see with the other door now." He told her cheerfully.

The girl gave him her worst glare of the night when she realized the training was far from over.

****

"You might want to admit your teaching was lacking whereas my idea worked rather nicely." Cleo spoke smugly, as perhaps the hundredth *clonk* of the night relented. She must feel good about her success, for she immediately set out to lock it back.

"Never said I was much a teacher." He spoke back a bit loudly, to be heard amidst the ambient cries of inmates. In Ben's experience, teachers made you do the same stuff over and over until you got it right. He had failed with Cleo though, and he couldn't really see where. "But I daresay yer prob'ly not the best of student." He added, a little vexed.

"How dare you make such a comment? I would not be exaggerating if I told you Ben, that I was the most learned pupil my tutors ever had." Cleo sounded upset, but didn't spare him a glance, focused as she was on the door in front her.

"Didn't say yer not good at learnin'. Said yer a bad student. How many of 'em teachers ya drove mad, talkin' shit and all?" Ben was now teasing her.

"I am beginning to miss them, actually. They might have been complete idiots but at least their explanations made some kind of sense." She observed wistfully.

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" 'Is a'right, girl. Yer smart with yer head, jus' not with yer' hands. There's all different kinds of smart, Mae says." He quoted.

Ben was keeping his gaze on her, for he didn't want to contemplate his surroundings. The crazies' voices coming from the corridor were creepy enough, there was no need to make it worse by looking at them. Another clicking noise, she had won one more battle.

" 'Tis the twenty-first." He told her. She tilted her face to raise an eyebrow at him. "The date I mean. I reckon' ya asked 'bout it last night. Twenty-first of Applin that it is."

"Oh. Thank you, Ben." The lady must be worrying about some stuff, he thought, since she hadn't made one of them long-ass phrases.

"Perhaps you should be standing guard in case someone comes. I believe the risk was minimal while we stayed inside my cell, but now we are in the open, and I fear to be discovered. Far from me the idea of lecturing you on criminal behavior though." She pointed out with sarcasm. 

"Ain't much chance. Pretty sure none of 'em godfolks live here." Ben saw her eyes flicker back to him in doubt so he clarified: "Ya spoke 'bout four folks in white, three men and an old woman ya said. Saw them leavin' the place soon after dark a few times. There's only one dumb guard left, standin' outside and he ain't moving, I tell ya." She gave him a satisfied nod.

A dozen more practice runs later Ben decided to call it a night. Cleo followed him in direction of the roof, most likely to enjoy some fresh air. She might want to get away from her neighbours for a bit, he assumed. They began crossing the old attic. The young man noticed with the corner of his eye that she was trying to imitate his 'sneaky walk', as he called it. The food he had brought her must have done some good, the lady has been going at it for hours and she still had energy to spare.

Ben was finding her copying him to be weird, coming from a girl who looked down on thieving. But then what parts of her were not weird? Maybe Cleo liked learning so much she tried everything, or she was preparing for her escape. The man considered giving her some advice but decided against it. She would probably criticize him again. Then the girl would demand he cut open his own foot so she could have a look inside and study its workings. The idea made him chuckle.

"I believe teaching me how to do it properly should be more productive than laughing at my expense." Ben heard her remark acidly from behind him.

"Enough teachin' for tonight, I reckon. Another night if ya want." He kept walking as he said so.

"I am not really sure how much time is left for me..." She answered, her tone softened.

"I'd help ya get out if ya want. Offer still stands." He proposed while wondering what she meant. It didn't sound so good.

"I need to get a better grasp on my situation before I consider it. I am confident that at least some people would search the city, were I to escape. But I need to determine for how long and how hard they would look. Knowing who and where to run to could help, if I might add." She explained.

The thief stopped short and looked at her. He recognized the feeling. Cleo didn't say nor show it, but she was scared to leave. In a way Ben used to be himself, before he met his own savior. As awful as Cleo's situation was, it was familiar to her, outside could be worse.

"Ain't most of it easier to do outside though? Hide som'where and look fer answers. And less risk to go all cracked in the head again." He tried as they went up the bell tower's stairs.

"I have a very recognizable face Ben, and no means nor skills to provide for myself. Let's assume I could manage such a feat, on top of avoiding the priests looking for me. What if instead of a few white robes, I find myself hunted by a lot more people? If someone announces my description to the general public and offers a reward for my capture, I doubt my chances would be so good." She developed.

Her present mindset was different from Ben's past one after all, for she seriously considered escape. Cleo was strong, he concluded. She had also made some valid points, the lass had given her situation a lot of thought. What else could she do with her days but think though? They both sat on the very same spots they had the nights before on the roof, and enjoyed the silence for a while. Not having to listen to the loons screaming felt to Ben as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He wondered if the constant noise, more than the drugs, was what had driven Cleo crazy.

He glanced at his strange companion. She had scared him shitless at first, and the second night they had met Cleo had still been disturbing to look at. He hadn't had much hope for her at the time, finding her talking to herself and staring blankly at walls. But then once he had taken her outside, the girl had talked. She talked like a book. Ben couldn't read but the things must sound the way she did. Cleo used a good dozen of words to say something Ben did with only a few. The young man didn't see the point, apart from making conversation last a whole lot longer. It was so different from regular folks' talk that he was fascinated. She could even call him a stupid cunt, but with her fancy words it would sound nice. Maybe she'd teach this to him some day. Mae would throw one hell of a fit if he dropped the country bumpkin accent, and went on to speak same as Cleo. 

"Did you hear any clarification on the matter of my so-called accidents?" She broke the silence.

"Not much, folks say all kinds of different things about it. Don't make sense."

"Any talk of... murder?" The girl asked. Ben paused, she seemed scared to hear the answer.

"None I heard. Some say ya died up north, others think ya died in the loonie bin. Lost of talk of ghosts. Why? Ya think someone tried to kill you?" He asked, but she didn't give him any sign of answer. There was no point thinking about it then, if she didn't know herself. After a long silence, Ben went back to his considerations.

There was the way CLeo looked at him, like she had woken up and found a big nasty bug in her bed. Ladies sure were something he mused. It reminded him of the brother, another one from a whole different world, that one was. Ben would be the first to admit he wasn't the sharpest sword in the rack, but the pair of siblings managed to make him feel so incredibly stupid. And what stuff she had said! He marveled. She had spoken of some things all folks knew to be true, saying they were not. The lass had sounded certain, the world wasn't flat, god didn't exist and everyone got it wrong but her. If folks could be wrong about those things, then they could be wrong regarding all the rest too. The possibilities made his head hurt. He missed the Wilds, everything was simple back there. Folks either tried to kill you, or they probably would, only later.

"I have been pondering the request you made last night." She stated, stopping Ben in his musings.

"I have recollected though unreliably, visiting a few rich houses, nobles and merchants alike. I should ask you for some clarifications, however, since I don not know what kind of information you are asking for." She continued. She appeared to be calm about it, at least more than yesterday.

"Mae said it's complicated. Ya see, trouble with expensive stuff, the kind with gold 'n jewels on 'em, there ain't nobody's gonna buy it other than rich folks." He told her.

"So it means that you need... some sort of intermediary or retailer then? I do not think I can help you on this particular matter."

"Nah, real problem is, only rich folks woud buy the stuff, and they all know each other. Imagine someone try to sell ya shit coming from his cousin's home or such. Worse, ya go 'n visit yer friend and then ya see yer own damn gold vase in his house, staring at ya." Ben explained.

"I understand the issue, but surely you could find some money." Cleo remarked.

"There'd be gold coins, and they're a pain in the ass I tell ya. Nobody's got enough change for 'em on the street. Ya gotta go to a special place, a bank I think it's called. But folks there woud give ya problems. Askin' where ya got it 'n all. Even if ya bullshit yer way out of it, there's trouble waitin' outside. Shady types, wait for folks leavin' the buildin' with a bag of coin, and they follow 'em. A hundred silver ya can believe it? Guess ya can, bein' a lady and all. Many in low town woud kill ya fer some silver coin, imagine what they'd do fer a hundred." He explained her. She seemed horrified.

"In this case I don't see how I could be of any assistance." 

Ben recalled everything Mae had told him. She had scolded him the morning before for going to see Cleo without notice. Telling the lady about the plan, before it was even done preparing hadn't helped his case. Forgetting most of it and blurting out the rest to Cleo had made things even worse. The middle-aged woman had then proceeded to mercilessly drill her project in Ben's head during most of the day.

"We need some noble, one with a status Mae said, to see a doctor from uptown."

"I don't know if my current station could aid the two of you in any capacity. As you told me, my 'incarceration' is a public affair, wich means I am officially insane. I do not forsee anyone listening to my requests." She sighed.

"Aye, but if ya know some folk ya trust, ya coud go see 'em and they'd guarantee your sanity she told." Cleo nodded.

"Then why ask me for help in stealing from rich houses? I must admit, the plan you just mentioned appears to be a lot more honorable, not to mention safer." She asked, looking perplexed.

"Well, got another option. There's someone in the underworld who coud help gettin' a good doctor. Someone who coud pay a lot fer robbin' nobles, only he'd be wantin' special stuff."

"Oh, I see. You are referring to the Parkhat."

So she knew the guy, Ben thought. The real king of Gravelroy, Mae had said, even if he didn't wear a crown and nobody saw him. He apparently had a hand in everything criminal wich took place in the city, but he also dealt in politics. Ben had been surprised to learn of the fact that, even if there were nobles ruling through a city council, nothing of note happened without the Parkhat's say so. How did it all work out, Ben couldn't quite figure it out, but it was the way of things around these parts. If they could do jobs for him, finding a proper healer would be possible. The problems were managing to meet a man nobody saw, and figuring out a way to get his interest. Not to mention that working for the crime king was incredibly dangerous, and leaving his employ was unheard of, if you listened to Mae.

"I have a proposition, I believe it should meet both of our interests." Cleo said after pondering the topic for a while.

"I'm listenin'." Ben responded, full of hope. If anyone could find this invisible guy, find him and get his attention, it would be Cleo. The girl sure was all kinds of clever, if you overlooked the crazy parts.

"I could tell you everything I remember about the most influential houses. Then, with your skills as a thief, you might be able to break into their residences. You could find informationthere, missives and ledgers for example."

"And those woud help how?" He asked, incredulous. He had imagined stealing a sort of special items, not letters. At least something precious. Maybe they were written with gold powder on some kind of expensive parchment then?

"Well, in politics Ben, information is everything. It is more important than money, even. Getting your hands on the right correspondences between the right people will certainly get you the Parkhat's attention." She explained.

"So I jus' gotta swipe a bunch of scrolls? But how'd I know wich ones to get? I can't read ya know." Ben exclaimed.

"I believe I should be able to help you with this part. If you were to bring the notes to me, I would tell you wich ones are of interest. Not to mention I could decipher most encrypted letters." She offered.

"A'right, let's do that, lass!" Ben exclaimed. Things were looking up. There was now hope in his heart, the beginnings of a plan for Mae to get better once and for all. He felt like hugging Cleo, but held himself back when meeting her eyes. She really needed to stop looking at folks that way, it sure was scary.

"Ya got an idea 'bout how to meet the guy?" He asked. Mae didn't have a plan yet, only the mountings of one.

"There are no official channels to contact with the man. Going through the criminal world would be the course of choice. I do not need to remind you, but it should supposedly be your area of expertise." 

"Don't really know how to do it. But as ya said, woud be the job of us criminals. Thought I ask is all." He shrugged. Mae would find something, she usually did.

"If you could find a way to go through one of the council's members, you could use such means to get word to the Parkhat. He is believed to control them in the way of a master puppetist. He stays hidden behind shadows, only showing his strings. And obviously, strings go two ways." She suggested.

"Reckon' blackmail woud work. I'll leave planin' to Mae though." He grinned.

"I will tell you everything I can recall then, at least until dawn. Most of it might be out of date however, as the balance of power must have shifted quite a bit during the past four years. Any news you have on the matter might help me reassess the situation."

And so the two newfound partners in crime spent the rest of the night talking. Speaking of noble houses, politics and the current war between Emperor and kings.