Jack always wondered what a secret tunnel would be like. Would it be filled with secret spy holes to gaze out of, or lead through dark and spooky caverns? No, he wasn’t that lucky. This one was just a long, skinny basement that resembled an airport terminal. Nothing to look at here folks, boring. After about 10,000 miles, at least in his professional opinion it was, the rickety ladder leading out of the tunnel was finally in sight. Casper waved his torch at the said ladder and proceeded to explain that they could climb it.

“I’m confused, do you think that after coming down here I forgot what a ladder was, or are you just pointing out the obvious?” Jack asked Casper.

“No fool, I am saying that we don’t need a signal before going up. The entrance of this side is hidden in a ruin, so no imperial guards to catch us as we ascend.”

He was finally getting used to Casper's way of talking now. Like a university professor that thought it was a good idea to spend a decade slumming it. Or I guess it’s the other way ‘round for Casper.

Upon reaching the stairs Casper handed Jack the torch before quickly ascending into the greater world. Daylight poured down on Jack and his eyes once again burned. Am I light-sensitive now or something?

That provoked a whole slew of questions he had been putting on the back burner since he got here. A quick physical exam, difficult to do while holding a fire stick, told him a lot. In other words, this new body sucked. He was weaker, slower… shorter, and far, far too sensitive. A brush against the wall during the trip made his whole arm ache.

Then there was what he was wearing. These were not the clothes he had put on that morning. No, he had put on a dark tee shirt and cargo pants that would withstand the inevitable tar and grease from his job. This wasn’t even close. He now wore a robe woven out of brilliant red, orange and yellow threads. The sleeves were elongated to give the impression of burning wings. He could only assume the rest of the design was on his back. He would examine it when he had the time.

“Are you done admiring yourself? Get up here before we lose daylight.”

Jack peered up surreptitiously to get a good view of Casper mocking his earlier actions. That’s it, blinded by the light or not I am going to kill him. There was just one problem. “How do I climb a wooden ladder with this torch? Seems like a bad idea to me.”

Casper face-palmed and pointed to a bucket of water hidden in a small alcove to the side of the ladder. “Stick it in there and leave it on the floor. The next person using the tunnel will need it. Torches don’t grow on trees, Jack.”

At this Jack examined the torch in his hands. He was right. It wasn’t just wood like he had thought. The fire itself was only burning an oily patch at the very end of it. His body shuddered as the flame suddenly reached towards him. He closed his eyes and started to turn away when he realized it didn’t hurt. The torch was now somehow unlit and his body felt… better somehow. Some tingles on his arm were the only evidence that something strange had just occurred.

With a shrug, he dropped the torch before proceeding to climb the ladder. It was easier than he thought it was going to be. Just another unexplained thing to add to the list I suppose.

The view at the top of the ladder was not great. Ruin was about the best way to describe it. The once former home was about twenty feet by twenty feet with dilapidated clay walls and rubble everywhere. Dark green weeds sprinkled ground and vines hung down from the walls. The hearth could only be identified by an empty spot in the center filled with ash.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“This way.” Casper pointed to an opening that looked like it went into an alley. “Due to your strange clothes, we will have to be more careful than we otherwise would have to.”

They passed through the entrance and into the alley the buildings he could now see were in the same condition as the one they were in, rubble and weeds were the predominant features. He only got a glimpse of the street when Casper yanked him into the shadows.

“Do you want to make a spectacle? If the guard around here finds you then say goodbye to all of your belongings. You will be a lucky man if they leave you your britches. That is before they started beating on you to learn where you got something so rare.”

Jack opened his mouth to reply… and he was already gone. With a sigh, Jack hurried after. They went from one alley to the next, to the next, and the next. How did we get this far without encountering a single street he thought when his hackles started to rise.

Years of looking out for number one in an area famous for muggings and gang fights taught him that aggression was the better part of valor. Nobody messed with crazy. With a swift turn, he sent a full roundhouse to the area that was directly behind him. What he found was a dirty kid in a patchwork smock. They had fallen, end over tea kettle, in reaction to his swift movement.

The kid did one more roll before coming to a stop against the vine-covered wall. They shook their head before glaring up at Jack full of that indignation that only those that can’t shave are capable of.

“Arthur, you rat!” Casper whisper-yelled at the small child. His face was flushed. “Hand back whatever it is you took before I tell Mother Siobhan that you interfered with a Crossing!”

The kid stammered for a bit before finally becoming sensible enough to protest. “Big bro I didn’t see you there. When I saw the swell just wandering around the junction… I just couldn’t resist.”

“Hand it over!” Casper held out his hand, palm open. The message was clear. The kid reached out and placed a small pouch in the outstretched hand, then used it to lift himself to his feet.

“Where did that come from?” Jack asked. He too walked over to stare at the small pouch.

“From your sleeve pouch idiot.” The kid, no half-pint, told him with a snort.

At that, he started examining his sleeves. Ahh, there it is. Nestled between what he had dismissed as the seams was a small opening. The button that had once clasped it was now undone. A quick reach inside revealed several small objects, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that he had POCKETS! The lack of something familiar had slowly become more and more bothersome as time wore on. Everything was new, but now he had something familiar that he could grasp for comfort.

Casper handed him the small pouch. “Is everything still inside? Arthur is known to steal everything that is not nailed down.”

“I didn’t even know I had pockets. Let alone things inside them.” Jack admitted with embarrassment.

“Couldn’t get the strings open,” Half-pint added from the side before giving me another glare. He’s good at that. “It has some kind of magic seal that I couldn’t break. It isn’t Magi work. I would have recognized that.”

“Really!” Casper replied. He seemed impressed by Halfpints assessment. “I should probably introduce you. This is one of my foster brothers, Arthur. He is one of the best thieves in Halfpipe junction, or the orphan ward, and is very dear to me. Arthur, this is Jack Hearth. If he is who I think he is then the imperials are in for a very rough time.”

“What you mean?” Arthur, the Half-pint, asked Casper, not sounding impressed.

“You know that ritual they have been preparing in the castle for the last few weeks? The one that was supposed to summon the Adjudicator. Well, right around the same time they were supposed to be finished, I found him laying down on one of our most secret tunnels into the city. He had no idea where he was and had that getup on.” At this, he gestured at his robe. “That is the most expensive robe I have ever seen, and I once saw the emperor on parade.”

With no warning Arthur quickly turned and swung at Jack, the movement so fast he became a blur. Muscle memory kicked in, allowing Jack to awkwardly block the blow and grab the boy’s arm. What he saw made him shudder. The arm in his hands was covered in scars and welts. Jack knew these marks. A belt had made these. The same scars that once covered his own back. Suddenly the cold look in Arthur’s eyes made much more sense. He quickly let go and pretended that he had seen nothing.

Arthur wasn’t fooled by the seeming nonchalance. “The Adjudicator is just a story meant to scare rich kids into giving the church money. No one is coming down from the heavens on a flaming bird to save us. He must be a plant from the empire.” Then he was gone. The only indication of his passing was a hazy blur going back the way they had come.

Casper sighed. “Sorry about that. Hope is a rare commodity in these parts and it is almost more hassle than it is worth.” He pointed down the direction they had been going. “We are almost there. Our destination is at the end of the next alley.” As they continued their journey Jack had to wonder just how kids were in a similar situation to Arthur.