“Where are you off to in such a rush and so early?” Mother asked. The smell of her fresh-baked bread was inescapable in the small confines of the cottage- not that I would have wanted to escape it. She, without fail, baked a delicious, golden loaf each morning. I was usually the first to snag a chunk, fresh out of the oven. It was either that or not get any at all. The loaf never lasted long after my two older brothers awoke for the day.
Mother began slicing into the bread, knowing it would slow my exit. I never turned down warm carbs.
“A family in town will be gone for a few days and I agreed to feed their chickens during their absence,” I lied. I could see the creases grow on my mother's face as she studied me.
“Which family?”
“Helson and Ulna Murdoch.”
“Where are they going?”
“I didn’t ask. They pay me well.”
Mother tilted her head and let out a strained exhale.
“You know we do okay, Phina. We don’t need you working all the time like you do. You should enjoy being young while you can. Go off and play with the other children around the homestead or something. There is plenty of work to be done in adulthood. It’s your father and I’s responsibility to take care of you three and that’s exactly what we will do until our last breath. The money is nice but it’s not necessary. We have everything we need.”
“I know but I like to help out. Plus, I love the animals. It’s not nearly the work you think it is to me. Win, win.” It hurt to lie straight to her face but I knew she was better off left in the dark. There was no way she would let me do the jobs I took on. It would also be dangerous for her to get mixed in with it. I had a long list of people who didn't like me.
“As long as you really are tending to chickens, Phina. The last time you were tending to chickens, you came home with that black eye…” Her voice trailed off.
“I told you. I tripped over the fencing on my way out.” I grabbed the bread she extended to me, a peace offering, and planted a kiss on her flushed cheek. “Your daughter is clumsy, that’s all. I’ll be home in four days’ time.”
“That long, for chicken feeding?” Her voice was small.
“It’s all the way in Merchant Gate. Too far to go back and forth while they’re away. Love you!” I yipped on my way out the door, hoping she didn’t ponder the quip enough to realize that the Murdochs do not own chickens.
******************************************************************************
“There she is! My little go-getter,” Fegel smirked as I entered his house without knocking. He really needs to bump up security. It was a large house in Merchant Gate, decorated with the finest embellishments one could buy in the region. I plopped down on his couch, sinking into the wooly fabric of the cushion. It was so warm, so cozy. I looked forward to sleeping on it while I was there. My bed at home was nothing more than a wooden bed frame built by my father and a mattress made out of hay, stuffed into potato-sack like fabric, and sewn together by mother. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing but it did its job just fine. I loved the homemade lifestyle back home, but I was going to enjoy the temporary abode.
I took a moment to admire the artwork lining nearly every inch of wallspace and the busts of unknown individuals. The busts looked so fragile, so breakable. If this guy ever does anything to upset me, the first thing I’m going to do is kick over the statues.
“What do you need today, Fegel?” I finally asked, twirling a clump of couch tuft between my fingers. “You said it was urgent.”
“Right to the point, I like it,” he said with an overly friendly tone- one that came off more menacing than anything. He poured a gray, steaming liquid into a mug and gestured towards me with it. I shook my head no. He shrugged and sat down with the drink for himself. “I need you to get into Witteaker’s and steal back my book,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“You want me to break into the house of a man who kills people for fun to retrieve a book?! Are you crazy? I walked more than a day to-”
“A book of spells,” the plump wizard cut me off. “He and his goons mugged me and got it. Sorry souls- caught me off guard.” Fegel shook his head. “It has the likes of magic in there that a man who kills people for fun shouldn’t get his grubby hands on.”
“And you think sending a little girl in there is a better idea than sending in one of your henchmen?” I inquired.
“You and I both know that: one, he will see my men coming from a mile away and two, you are more capable than all those boneheads smushed together.”
“Pay?” I pulled my small frame upward in attention.
“Two gold pieces upon successful retrieval.”
“Make it five,” I replied without hesitation. “This is a big ask and one that has a higher probability of me dying than usual.”
Fegel let out a chuckle and then took a sip of whatever was in his mug. “Five it is. This is exactly why I like you, Phina. You know your worth.”
******************************************************************************
“My mom will no doubt kill me if he doesn’t beat her to it,” I whispered to myself as I looked up the hill at Witteaker’s place. It was looming over the town, like a storm cloud. It wasn’t particularly nice or fancy, but it was large and ominous. It was painted a stark black, making it barely visible after sunset. A man sat out front in a chair, face raised to the sky. At first glance, it just looked like a man enjoying the crisp, breezy weather. I knew better, though. It was one of Witteaker’s goonies, guarding the premises. For a brief second, the man looked down and we made eye-contact. There is nothing more suspicious than quickly turning away when you lock eyes with someone so I gave him a slight smile and nod, then carried on down the cobblestone path, towards the business district. I peeked back after a few yards, and the man’s eyes were no longer lingering on me. He was back to basking in what was left of the sun’s rays for the day.
I snaked down the bustling main street for almost an hour, weaving between buildings, wasting time. It was so very different from the hamlet I lived in. Not only because there were way more people in Merchant Gate, but everyone back home seemed to take life so slowly. I observed the blurred faces that passed me with intent. There was not much for loitering. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere in haste.
I tried to sink into the crowd as I passed through. I bumbled around shops, buying an apple at one to snack on as I strolled. After I gathered my thoughts and decided I was ready, I threw the apple core into a browning bush and doubled back around- back towards Witteaker’s.
******************************************************************************
From the backside, through a window, I could see two figures downstairs. One was pacing and the other was making large, wild gestures with its arms. I assumed my friend from before was still relaxing outside. The upstairs seemed quiet enough- at least I didn’t notice any motion from the rooms there. That seemed like my only option to get in. At that moment, I wished I had a partner. It would have made my life so much easier if someone could have made a ruckus at the front of the house, to lure everyone away. I wasn’t even entirely sure there wasn’t anyone upstairs, either. I was sort of betting on luck.
The large tree next to the home had faultlessly stationed branches, angled and positioned to be the perfect ladder to the second story. A safety hazard for Mr. Witteaker. In another life, I would have made a pretty good security detail.
I scaled the branches seamlessly, barely making the leaves rustle. I slid onto the roof and sunk into the shadows. With my back against the siding, I listened as intently as I could. I heard no footsteps, no voices, only the faint buzz from what was going on downstairs. With that, I glided my fingers around the rim of the window pane and pulled, relieved as soon as the glass swiveled on its hinge. Unlocked window, another hazard. Maybe, if I get out unscathed, I’ll send Witty Boy a list of things he should fix to avoid break-ins.
The fit was tight but I was able to squeeze in. I was standing in a bedroom, guest probably, due to the bareness of it. I didn’t bother to rummage in this room, and made my way quietly into the hallway after ensuring that there were no approaching footsteps. I could now sort of hear the words being exchanged below, something about a delivery being intercepted before making it to Merchant Gate, loss of profit, yada. I hoped the situation occupied Witteaker long enough to get in and out. That is, if the book was even upstairs to begin with. If it wasn’t, that would be a bigger problem for me.
I made my way to the next room and peered in. It was an abnormally spacey closet, with nothing but dark linens. I rifled through a few bedsheets before giving up. Why would he keep a book here? Before I made it to the door across the hall, trudging footsteps began encroaching.
“Ah shit,” I muttered and disappeared into the new room which was also a bedroom. This one looked more occupied than the last, with clothes strewn about and a thick blanket draped over the side of the bed. The steps got closer and the voice that accompanied it got louder.
“I left it upstairs, be right back down. If your ass isn’t still in that chair when I get back, your wife will be a widow by dawn.” The voice was unmistakably Witteaker’s. I had never spoken to him personally, but he was well-known around Merchant Gate and the outlying towns. He tended to show up wherever trouble was afoot. Funnily enough, so did I.
If Witteaker saw me, he would surely recognize my face. He would also be furious.
I dove into the cave of blanket, hoping that my small frame looked like nothing more than an untidy lump of fabric. I didn’t have enough time to bail or find a better hiding spot than where I was.
“Worthless, useless-” Witty grumpily mumbled as he rummaged through a chest on the far side of the room. From the slit, I watched his thick fingers shuffle through the unknown treasures. I caught a glimpse of a leather-bound book, yellowish in hue. It was thrown back into the trunk almost immediately. That was the book I was looking for. I waited nervously as Witteaker circled the room before making an acknowledging grunt and flinging open a drawer. He pulled out what looked to be a map and then slammed the drawer shut once again.
On his way out, Witteaker nearly tripped over me. I let out a hushed gasp, thinking he had noticed the solidness that his boot struck. He let a few choice words slip as he stumbled but he paid no special mind to me. His focus was on the poor fellow downstairs. Before long, Witteaker’s heavy steps were back below and the yelling and reprimanding continued.
I hesitated for a moment and then ascended from my cover and darted directly to the chest. It was still unlatched. I lifted up the lid and saw the corner of the spellbook peeking out amongst an array of fabrics and loose items. They were probably all stolen goods. I grabbed the item of interest, startled by the sheer heft.
“Upstairs window breached!” A shout ricocheted. I left the window open. Idiot!
The footsteps were hard and quick, the thumps shaking the ground as I rushed back into the hall and towards the room with the window. I braced myself for whoever was waiting for me outside but nothing prepared me for meeting Witteaker’s eyes as I bounced past him. He was nearly within arms grasp of me, at the top of the stairs.
“Phina,” his voice was sharp and breathless.
My heart stopped. The last person you’d want to be on a first-name basis with is Witteaker.
I ducked into the room, locking the door behind me. It wouldn’t take them long to get in, but it would slow them down. I dropped onto the roof, book in my clutch. Stars littered the sky above me and as expected, the lookout was now below me, waiting for me like he was a predator and I was his prey. He stood at the base of the tree I used to get up, with a devilish grin plastered on his face. He even made this confrontation more dramatic by leaning an elbow against the tree and tapping his foot in expectant impatience. A chill trudged down my spine as the banging of the bedroom door got louder behind me. Without another thought, I booked it for the front of the house, slipping on the shingles as I went.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Whatya gonna do little birdy, jump?” I heard the man tease from the other side of the structure. Yep. And with that, I leapt off of the roof, trying to orient myself in a way that’ll do the least amount of damage. As I plummeted to the ground, I was harshly reminded how tall two story buildings were, especially ones over an incline. I fell for quite some time, before hitting the ground and tumbling over my shoulder in a somersaulting fashion. I took this chance to continue to barrel down the mound of land, picking up speed and momentum, clutching the book tightly against my body as I rolled. Once the adrenaline of the jump wore off, near the base of the elevation, the pain started. It erupted from my shoulder and burst down my right arm like fireworks. Against the pain, I picked myself up and looked back, a little wobbly and dizzy from my means of escape. The men were not chasing me anymore, but they were watching me from the top of the hill. Witteaker even cocked his head to the side as if curious about me. I didn’t take a moment longer to return the gaze. I high-tailed off into the woods, one arm hugging the book and the other arm dangling uselessly at my side.
******************************************************************************
“Impressive, my girl!” Fegel exclaimed after I plopped the text onto his table. He skimmed through the pages with triumph. “Not even a single tear!”
“Ten gold pieces, Fegel,” I winced, dropping myself back onto the couch. Fegel was about to protest when he noticed the state of me. I didn’t even realize how truly disheveled I was until seeing my reflection on a silver decorative plate mounted in the entryway. I was covered in bruises and mud. My right arm drooped lazily at my side. My face was beginning to swell, too. “Sure, fine. Don’t bleed on the furniture, please, Phina,” Fegel quickly handed me a cloth. Both of my knees were bleeding, as was my nose. I dabbed at my wounds, staining the rag crimson but saving the expensive upholstery beneath me.
“Witteaker will probably figure out what I stole and come looking for you,” I huffed.
“Let the gizzard come, then!” Fegel bellowed. “And I’d probably be more worried about myself if I were you.”
I narrowed my eyes but didn’t have the energy to argue further. He wasn’t exactly lying so I really had no ground either way. I let his comment stir around before the burning pain snapped me out of my almost-trance.
“Do you know of anyone who can get my shoulder back into place?” I asked the round man. I had originally tried moving it back into the socket myself but the pain kept me from succeeding. I needed someone to do it for me so my subconscious couldn’t interfere. Fegel gave a stiff nod and then disappeared into a back room. I was left to contemplate the current situation. I do not like the fact that Witteaker knew me by name. I figured he’d recognize me but I did not expect him to know who I was. That was an issue. Also, mother and father were going to be pissed. Mother caused a scene when I had a simple black eye. At the moment, it looked like I was off tending to rabid bears, not chickens. This was going to be hard to write off.
******************************************************************************
A summons and fancy meal later, a middle-aged woman bounded through the door.
“How dare you call upon me at such an unholy hour!” She roared, stopping once she saw that Fegel wasn’t alone. “Oh, my apologies”
“This is my dear sister Elene. She is a doctor of sorts,” Fegel explained to me. He gave a sympathetic smirk.
“Doctor of sorts? I’ve spent my livelihood studying and practicing medicine, you fool. I don’t depend on silly little magic to mend things like you!” She snapped. Elene exhaled and then looked at me and her face softened. Very quickly, she understood why she was called. “Oh dear. What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I tripped?” I said, only half joking.
“No,” she responded quickly, examining my face from a mere three inches away. I felt her warm breath against my cheek.
“Phina here does some work for me on the side and this job got her in a little scuffle. If you can help, I’ll pay you,” Fegel said, pouring himself another cup of tea.
“I don’t need your money, Feg.” Elene began pressing against various spots on my limp arm. Pained, animalistic noises came out of me. “Why on earth are you hiring others to do your dirty work, a child nonetheless!”
“I’m technically 19,” I piped in, not sure it would help the situation any.
“Ah, elven maturity. Of course. Still a child through elven eyes, no?” She inquired.
“Well-”
“See, Fegel. Child!” Elene spat gesturing towards me. He ignored his sister’s beratings and sipped his tea.
Elene calmed enough to focus on my injuries, the extent of which were more than I originally thought. My shoulder was dislocated which I was right about, but my arm was also snapped on the same side in two places. Luckily, everywhere else was just speckled with cuts and bruises. My nose was bleeding, but not broken.
“Do you have any spells to heal these breaks, brother?” Elene asked, cleaning some of my other miscellaneous wounds with alcohol.
“I am not much of a healer,” Fegel griped.
“If I heal these my way, I’ll have to make a special splint that she’ll have to wear for weeks, months even.”
“I thought non-magical medicine was better-” Fegel began mockingly.
“Better, yes, but slow,” she retorted.
“I really can’t work with a splint, Fegel,” I said. “You know the kind of jobs I do. Plus, the farm chores back home…”
“Oh, alright. I’ll have to take the night to prepare. I’ll mend the breaks in the morning,” he said, giving in.
Elene nodded with satisfaction. “I will be able to adjust your shoulder, though. It’ll be painful I’m sure, but quick. And the reprieve will be immense.”
“Let’s get it over with,” I said with false confidence.
The preparation involved her situating herself to the side of me. I had a new cloth, soaked with chilled water, clenched between my teeth. Fegel was watching from the other side of the room and it almost seemed like he was excited about what was going to happen. Gross.
“On the count of three, I’m going to pull out and up. That joint should fit right back in,” Elene explained, bracing herself against the wall, with a hard, agonizing grip on my arm. I wanted to wait until the breaks were fixed to do this, but Elene was right. It would continue to hurt aggressively and I would get no rest if my shoulder stayed in its current position.
“It’ll be quick. On two, take a deep breath in, and on three, release it. One… two…three…”
The pain was sharp and made my eyes water, but after a few seconds, nothing but a dull soreness remained around the areas broken lower down. My shoulder was tender when pressed, but I was able to rotate that joint with ease again.
“Thank you,” I breathed, softly massaging the top of my shoulder.
“My pleasure, Phina. Glad I could help,” she smiled. “If I were you, I’d stay out of my brother’s affairs. He tends to get himself caught up in trouble too often.”
“Phina isn’t a stranger to stirring up trouble, Ellie,” Fegel chipped in, lounging across the way. “If I could be so bold to say, trouble follows her.”
“Nonsense. She is just a girl.”
“If only you knew, sister.”
With that, Fegel finished his drink and then retreated to his study, hopefully to figure out how to fix my arm.
******************************************************************************
First thing in the morning, Fegel mended my bone. It was much less painful than expected, thankfully. I was still pretty scuffed up, but at least my arm was usable and in pretty decent shape. After icing my face for much of the night, the swelling had gone down as well. A dark purple splotch remained from the corner of my eye to my forehead. A little crusted blood was dried to my nostril. After the mend, Fegel handed me a small bag.
“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Phina,” he said. “I look forward to needing your services again.”
I grunted at his sentiment and then quickly counted to make sure there were ten gold pieces inside. Once I ensured the proper payment, I bowed my head at him.
“Do you have some chicken eggs I could also have, by chance?”
*****************************************************************************
“Phina?” My father’s gruff voice called to me as I slinked down the path to my family’s homestead. My father was chopping firewood. From yards away, I could still see the sweat glitter on his face. “Good gods, what happened to you?” He dropped his axe with a thud.
“Phelorna, get out here, please,” father called for my mother. Uh oh. Mother peeked her head out from the stable.
“Phina! Goodness be the Moonweaver, what has happened?” She booked it towards me, a bucket of grain in tow. The commotion got the attention of my elder twin brothers, Philo and Phyre. They joined the crowd as I approached.
“Don’t you dare tell me that this happened while you were feeding chickens!” She seethed, putting the pail down and checking me over.
“You have some fun without us?” Phyre laughed. Philo just looked sad.
Philo was the only one in the family who knew what I was doing when I went to town for work. He knew I was getting mixed in with not great people when I disappeared.
Turns out, Philo made a bad gambling bet and ticked off someone in Merchant Gate a year prior. I was requested by this person to get blackmail on a pasty elf named Philo- hah! Not many of those around.
I told the man that the best information I could find was that Philo was scared of roosters, which was true but not helpful. I didn’t get paid, obviously, but I was able to warn my brother of the target he had on his back. Though, that required me to explain why the guy was asking me for blackmail to begin with.
“You are not stepping a foot off this property again until you are 500 years old!” Mother hissed. “Orris, help me here.”
Father looked at Mother and then back at me. He was always a soft spoken man. Strong and steady in his ways and demeanor.
“Care to tell us what happened?” He spoke slowly, reaching a consoling arm around Mother. She tapped her foot. Phyre’s smirk shrunk. Philo still looked sad.
“I really was tending to chickens,” I began.
“Child, I swear-” Mother said.
I continued, cutting her off. “I got into a fight, okay? Someone was hurting a woman and I stepped in. She was able to get away but I was overpowered quite quickly.” I looked down, the ping of guilt radiating from my chest as I spoke. That did happen, just not today.
“Flower,” my dad sighed, using his nickname for me, which made it hurt even more. “Is that the truth?” His voice wasn’t accusatory, just that of a concerned parent.
“Yes. I stumbled upon the scene trying to find more feed in town. The Murdochs were nearly out. A kind wizard fixed my broken arm but I’m still a bit worse for wear.” Fegel, a kind wizard, funny.
“Broken arm! Phina!” Mother gasped.
“Who did that to you? I’ll show them not to mess with my baby sister!” Phyre added to the interrogation.
“Uh, some man. I don’t know-”
“A full grown man attacked a defenseless, young elf?” My father’s voice dropped down deeper than I’ve heard it go before.
“It was on me, okay? I got into the middle of it and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I was able to help someone and I carry on well knowing that.”
My parents were silent for a moment. I thought it was as good of a time as ever and pulled out the eggs and baggie of gold. My mother grabbed the eggs and father took the bag, dumping the currency into his palm.
“Phina, we don’t need-” Father began talking and then stopped abruptly. “This is an absurd amount of money… How…”
“Please tell me you did not steal that. We are not suffering enough to steal-” Mother spoke with vindication.
“I swear on my life I did not steal that. I was paid for my work. I earned every ounce of that gold and I want you to have it,” I defended. I was finally speaking some truth.
“You didn’t hurt anyone for this pay?” Father asked.
“No one was injured while I was working. Well, except for me,” I answered.
“The Murdochs gave you enough money to pay for an entire cow in exchange for feeding chickens for two days?”
I couldn’t bring myself to answer her.
“Why don’t you keep it? It’s your money…” Father trailed off.
“I have no need for it. You can use it to stock up on food, supplies, seeds-”
“We don’t need this money. You can keep it, save up.”
“I got it for you, for the family. It’s my money and I’m giving it to you.” My voice was stern, but pained. “Please, may I go soak in the pond?” I asked. “I’m a bit sore.”
My parents stopped arguing with me. I could see my mother fighting back tears. My father was still standing tall and powerful as he squeezed the pieces in his hand.
“Yes, go soak. You make us proud and thankful,” Father said. I hold back a laugh.
“I’ll warm some water so you can have some tea when you finish,” Mother whispered, turning back towards the house.
Phyre didn’t say anything else as he left to finish his chores. Philo, somber, just shook his head.