Chapter 11

“The rarest god on record is one called Charlotte. She is said to take the souls of the dying, but apparently, she is very picky as only a few stories are recorded of her. The saying ‘to die without meeting Charlotte is a good death’ refers to her. One of the best accounts of her is a story of a King Sovid upon his deathbed.

First recorded thousands of years ago, the story goes that Charlotte appeared before the great man. Her ghostly form stood upon the bed near the king’s feet. The apparition appeared to everyone, and she appeared as a young girl, light and small, maybe eight years old. She wore a long and flowing silk gown that flowed eerily into the bed sheets themselves.

The air turned chill, and all who were there could see their breath. The king cautiously and with fear whispered, ‘Who are you?’ The many around his bed heard no response. But the king, he heard her answer which turned his pale face to white. He pleaded with her, tears welling in his eyes. She walked forward, and in moments, she stood upon the king’s chest. He gasped, ‘Please, Charlotte, no.’ She leaned down, and with a gentle kiss upon his bald head, he breathed his last.

As she stood, her ghostly figure’s right arm ran through the king’s chest, and when her hand appeared, it looked as though it had caught hold of something. Raising her fist into the air, she turned to the onlookers with gleeful, silent laughter. The chill in the room turned to warmth. Two of the ladies present screamed, and one of the men drew a sword and swiped it through the apparition. Charlotte, shaking her head, snapped her fingers and disappeared.

Everyone watching was stunned. Had their king been abducted or killed, his soul stolen away from them before their very eyes?

—Cecile, priestess of the God of War, writing in the book A Catalog: Gods and Their Stories

Thinking about the coming robbery, Reyn didn’t sleep much. He walked groggily through the bustling streets of Belladder on his way to school. People were about their business—markets opening, shops opening, bakeries selling breakfast sausage cakes and rolls filled with cinnamon caramel-liquor.

Even in the farthest northern port, Reyn worried someone who had been to the execution in Oblick might recognize him even though his hair was now red and he answered to a different name. However, Reyn’s nerves left him once he entered the school grounds. His anxiety turned into excitement.

The previous schools he had attended were little more than small one-room buildings. Here though, a proper brick building rose up from the ground many stories high. Even through the cold, Reyn felt happy. He could see warm smoke rising from chimneys and well-dressed students with bright, lively eyes and smiles. He felt as though he were at the Sorcerers’ Academy right then even!

He was glad that his father, Velro, had used some of his last money to bribe local officials for information about the best schools in the city. He wondered if some his father’s money had really been Seff’s after perhaps some clever siphoning and saving. This particular school’s area skirted the slums but had been recently redrawn partially into them.

His father had given Reyn his final schedule the previous day. He entered, feeling confident walking past signs and stairs and hundreds of teenagers on his way to class.

When he finally—after walking up and down a few hallways—opened the door to his first class, it turned out he was late, and everyone, even the teacher, turned their heads.

“—and as the hunt goes farther east, the storms become stronger—and your name is?” the teacher said, turning to Reyn and raising an eyebrow. He was short and bearded.

“R—errrr—umm—.”

“Rear-Um?” the teacher looked at him, his brow furrowed and one eyebrow raised.

“No, sir, Zander.”

The class laughed loudly, as it didn’t even come close to anything he had said.

“Class, please,” said the teacher, his face relaxing. “You were added to the roster today, and I’m very happy you made it at all. So many—some of whom are here now—don’t make it their first day. I really don’t know how they get lost or otherwise detained, but they do and some never show up at all. So, I’m glad that we have the honor of your acquaintance, Zander. You will be sitting behind Jogar, right there,” the teacher pointed.

Reyn looked around the classroom at everyone’s faces very briefly as he walked to his seat behind Jogar.

The rest of the day went smoothly as he attended his classes. He didn’t care much for them, but he needed to attend to keep his father happy. Not to mention, Seff had scolded him on their journey for not appreciating the opportunity of his last school. In fact, Seff mentioned schooling so much that Reyn would shout as Seff to shut up if he even thought Seff was going to mention it.

“Education,” Seff emphasized, “Makes a tremendous difference of whether one can get into the Imperial Sorcerers’ Academy. By the age of admission, 20, one should be exceptionally well educated, sharp, and eager to learn—all required for running the Phav Empire. The sorcerers who have graduated from the Academy run the empire—and you could be with me at the very top.”

Reyn thought of it—Seff and himself being provincial leaders—spacious mansions, the best pies and savory meat kabobs, and dressed as a lord. However, Reyn loathed studying. His mind rebelled from it every moment. Even with a new school, his mind felt weak and turned to daydreaming about the woods or girls or the sorcery tales Seff was fond of telling. Studying was so much work—learning and memorizing and understanding. However, Seff had emphasized at every opportunity that he needed to learn as much as he could as fast as he could. He was behind by a lot.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

After school, he headed home to study before meeting Seff later.

On the way home, he noticed the impressive buildings surrounding the school. They soared above him, decorated with polished marble facades and decorative metalwork. With the odd exception, those walking by were dressed nicely. He passed by a line of wealthy houses on the way. Fenced and landscaped with shrubs and trees, the houses stood three and four stories tall. They were narrow with small yards, but they looked regal and wealthy.

They were near the school, and even though a constable was visible a down the street, Reyn thought that these houses might be good targets. Such wealthy and powerful families must have jewels and gold.

As he walked, he paid more attention to the city around him. The carefully maintained streets degraded quickly until he arrived at his father’s. He realized how lucky he was to go to that school. He also wondered exactly how much of Seff’s money had been siphoned by his father. Reyn owed Seff his life, maybe even two lives—once for the hanging and once for stealing the dossier. However, Reyn suspected that his father, Velro, had been a robber deceiving Seff out of all of his money. Velro had been the one going into towns to buy things, and quite often, Reyn had been suspicious when his father told them of how much everything had cost.

After dinner, Reyn lay on his bed and propped himself upright against the wall. With a lantern on his bedside table, he looked over his school notes. His mind wandered to his journey on the ship. The food had been terrible. He forced himself back into the notes, only to think about the woods back home. He gave up. He had tried to study. He would try again later.

He left to meet Seff who lived near the wharfs. The people passing by went from mostly city folk to sailors. The sides of buildings grew dirtier, and he noticed at least half a dozen that looked unsafely tilted. The streets narrowed. He asked for instructions, only to be scowled at. Reyn started to worry.

He had made a turn onto an alley, only to find no one there. He backed out and ran into a dirty-clothed woman. The woman held out her hand and touched his chest before he slid her hand off his chest. “Excuse me,” she said softly, side-stepping him.

“Um, could you tell me where the Tin Biscuit is?” Reyn asked.

She said, “I could be persuaded. Why don’t you just follow me?”

Reyn smiled. All those days of wandering around Lamm had widened Reyn’s experiences enough where he recognized what this was. “I’ll give you a copper. Where’s the inn?”

She shrugged and pointed, “It’s the way I’m going, except you take a left until you get to Moiyagi’s Harpoon. Take a right and you’re there.”

Reyn handed her a copper, only to have her grip his hand. He stopped and stared blankly at her. No words were needed. She let go. He found the Tin Biscuit set back in an alley, cut off from the daylight as if it were a cave.

He met Seff in an upstairs room. Brown water dripped from the ceiling into a pitcher. The bed and its covers looked dirty, and the room smelled. He wasn’t sure what it smelled like, but he thought it might be mold and urine.

“What are we going to rob?” Reyn asked, tempted to hold his nose and drag Seff out of the room.

“I don’t know,” Seff said. “I haven’t had time to wander the city, so we may just need to rob someone instead of something.”

“What if they scream?”

“We kill them?”

Reyn’s head snapped back in disbelief. “I don’t think we can just start killing people if they scream.”

“It’d be their fault. They screamed.”

“I was thinking that we may be able to rob this house that sits near the school. It’s three stories, has well-kept yard and nice windows.”

“Nice windows?”

“Yes, nice windows.”

“Fine, whatever, we can do that, but we need to find a side entrance into it. Something like a window or cellar door.”

“I think there’s an alleyway that runs alongside the house, and there’s probably a window or something somewhere on the first floor,” said Reyn.

“Excellent.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Reyn said.

A little later, Seff and Reyn arrived at the house. They climbed over an iron perimeter fence and walked around the house. There was no alley, but on the side of the house, not visible from the street, several first story windows were visible. Seff led Reyn to one.

“So how do you get in without making noise?” whispered Reyn.

“You check to see if it’s unlocked,” Seff said as he checked. “Locked.”

“So what do you do next?”

“We can melt a pane of glass,” Seff said, “But that leaves a clue of who broke in, and we really don’t want to attract any attention. We’re lucky just to be alive right now after what we did in Oblick,” Seff said.

“So a third option is?” Reyn asked impatiently as a stiff, cold wind blew by.

“We use a glass cutter to pop out a pane,” Seff made a soft popping noise. “We unlock the window, and bam, we’re inside.” Seff pulled out a glass cutter and made short work of the pane of glass. He unlocked the window and slowly opened it. They quietly climbed in and closed the window behind them.

“The first thing we must do is unlock the front and back doors so as to provide an easy mode of escape. During that time, we sneak around and look for anyone who might be out of place.”

“Out of place?”

“Sleeping in a chair, walking about, passed out—you know—out of bed.”

Reyn nodded as they moved around the house silently, unlocking the back door then the front.

“As we move around, we look for anything valuable,” Seff said. “So far, I have not seen anything, but we haven’t really been looking yet. We’ll sweep the place, make sure no one is up, and then I’ll light a small fireball to give us some light as we look around.”

They swept the house, and no one was up.

“I almost forgot,” Seff said. “One thing to keep in mind is that going to the bedrooms to look is very risky. They might have their favorite two-hundred pound lion-hunting dog sleeping next to them. I once heard a story about this poor guy, and well—I’ll tell you about it later.”

They started going room by room on the bottom floor checking for valuables. Seff lit a fist-sized fireball and had it hover over his right shoulder to provide some light. They exited the den where they had argued in hissing whispers about whether the paintings were worth anything or not. Reyn thought they were not valuable enough to take, and Seff wanted to take them anyway just in case.

Seff decided not to bother, and they left, finding nothing of value in the den. They then noticed a door near the kitchen. They opened it slowly.

Stairs. They followed them down to discover a small basement where they found two silver candleholders nicely lying on top of a box.

“See how easy this is?” Seff said.

Reyn rolled his eyes in the darkness while saying, “Yup.”

Seff and Reyn followed the stairs back up and exited the basement while closing the door.

“We now have two silver candleholders that we can sell very easily in another town which will never be traced to us. Easy money. As it’s your first time, I don’t want to get carried away, so this will suffice just fine. Let’s leave through that window by the kitchen and get out of here.”

Reyn nodded reluctantly, not wanting to argue inside the house. He had wanted Seff to properly rob this house, so that he would not be dragged into robbing again. He knew Seff could take care of himself. He was surprised by Seff’s timidity, but said nothing.

They started exiting by walking down a hallway. They turned down another hallway that bordered the kitchen when they both jumped, more than a little startled.

A figure stood before them.