Nim pressed herself against the wall, her right hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. The guard stood about ten feet away. His narrow shoulders drooped slightly as he took lurching steps across the room. 

He’s tired, she thought, staring at him long and hard. He’s probably toward the end of his shift. 

She glanced at the window. A soft light fuzzed in through the barred glass. Morning had arrived. The merchants would be bustling about their stalls soon and the people of the city would be stirring in their comfortable stone-and-wood homes, getting ready for the new day. She didn’t have much time.

Watching him nervously, she removed the dagger slowly from its sheath, waiting for her moment.

Finally, the guard leaned fully against the wall, his back pressed into the stone, and allowed his chin to drop to his chest.

Now.

Nim sprang forward, out of the shadows. The guard merely snorted as she pressed the dagger to his chest. Thin leather armor was all that separated his skin from her blade. He had been more unprepared than she thought.

His eyelids snapped open and brown eyes stared into her blue ones. He stood a full three feet taller than her. He wasn’t muscular but sinewy, and Nim knew she didn’t want to tangle with him. He didn’t seem afraid.

“I could kill you now. You’d best keep quiet,” she whispered, using her free hand to loop pre-tied restraints around his wrists. He made no move toward his weapon, still in its sheath.

His thin lips parted in what Nim at first assumed to be a gasp of surprise or fear. It wasn’t. Instead, a low chuckle echoed around the small room, empty but for the platform in its center. That platform held the prize Nim’s nimble fingers had come to take.

Nim bristled at his amusement. Due to her size, she was used to the occasional jab from humans, elves, or other taller beings. But this was too much. She pressed her knife into the leather chestguard, biting through it and reaching his skin. He winced but didn’t stop laughing.

His stubbled cheek almost touched hers as he leaned forward, his amusement pitching him into full-blown, guffawing breathlessness.

“Be quiet!” Nim kicked at his shin with her boot, and he doubled over even further, nearly falling onto the ground.

To her satisfaction, he stopped laughing and let out a soft whimper as she stuffed an old piece of cloth into his mouth.

Once she had his hands safely tied behind his back, she turned her attention to the platform, eager to complete her job. There, a shiny rock, about the size of a grown man’s hand, set on a red velvet pillow, glistening in the morning light.

“There you are, my beautiful bauble,” Nim said, her eyes resting on it, appreciating its almost ordinary appearance. She tiptoed forward, her gaze shifting as she checked around the platform for traps.

“There you are, my beautiful bauble,” a voice behind her said.

Nim froze. She knew the voice, of course. He’d been on her heels for the last two months, trying to get revenge for a bag of gold Nim had nipped from his pocket. Like he’d even needed it. The rich clothing and fine jewelry he wore showed that he had more than enough to share.

She’d never seen someone hold so much resentment over something so small.

“Travius,” she said, turning slowly, ready to launch her dagger at any sign of aggression. He’d never been aggressive before… but then, it had been two months. And he did seem to be losing his patience. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Funny. I was expecting you.”

Nim paused. Where had she heard about the Twelvemoon Stone? A pub in Grimshane’s Village? Or maybe during her last stint in jail. She couldn’t be sure. It had been on her “to do” list for a while, and she’d only now found the time to go after it. She’d been close by, after all, after her escape from Duke, who had tried to unlawfully detain her over only one silly silver watch, which had found its way into her knapsack in a busy marketplace.

“The Twelvemoon Stone is yours?” she asked carefully, her eyes on her pursuer. The half-elf had a fair complexion and bright, searching dark eyes that reminded Nim of a raven. Always on the look for something shiny. But then, who was she to judge? She had a lot in common with those ravens.

He laughed, throwing back his head.

“The Twelvemoon Stone doesn’t exist, my dear,” he said.

He pointed a long, slender finger toward the stone on the velvet pillow. “There’s your Twelvemoon Stone.”

He leered at her, satisfaction written on every feature of his smooth face. A man who had always won every game, and probably hadn’t realized half of them were rigged in his favor.

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Nim moved toward the stone, unable to contain her curiosity. Her breath caught in her chest as she neared the rock, but no traps sprang as she ascended the raised platform. No alarms sounded. She picked up the shiny object and turned it over in her hands, feeling its craggy sides.

The tingle of magic she expected hadn’t rushed through her. In fact, up close, it didn’t seem special at all.

“It’s a rock I picked up on the beach,” Travius said. “A simple, pretty rock. Worthless.”

“Then it was a trap,” Nim said quietly, understanding her dilemma. She could hear carts outside, passing under the window. She could jump for it. But the window had iron bars covering the glass.

The guard lay on the floor, his hands still bound and his mouth gagged, but he watched with wide eyes. Nim now knew why he had been laughing.

The rock left her grasp before Travius had time to dodge, but her aim wasn’t true. It hit him in the shoulder, knocking him backward but not stunning him, as she had meant to do.

“You little-” Travius grabbed his shoulder with his right hand and lunged toward her with his left. She dodged, rolling on the stone floor, and came up ready.

“I only want you to serve your time,” Travius clenched his teeth. “You stole my gold, you vagrant. You nipped it right out of my pocket. And I had a lady with me.”

“Didn’t impress her, huh?” Nim said, slipping out his way just as he approached. “What a shame.”

“Guards!” Travius yelled. “There’s a thief here!”

“All this for a bag of gold?” Nim asked. She raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure it’s not more? Seems like you’ve got an obsession?”

“I believe in the law, child,” Travius sneered coldly. “And you’ll see justice.”

“Guards!” He yelled again, still lunging toward her. With every lunge, she stumbled nimbly out of his way, barely breaking a sweat.

But she knew she couldn’t escape him forever. She ducked under his next grab and ran with everything she had toward the door.

Just as she made her dash, a guard appeared under the door’s stone arches. Before she could stop, she smashed into him, smacking her face into his metal chest plate.

“Oooh,” she bounced off with a metallic ring, everything from her forehead to her chin going suddenly numb. She knew from experience that the pain would set in momentarily.

Dazed and sitting on the floor, she heard Travius laugh loudly.

“Take her away,” he said, smiling at the tall guard, who merely looked annoyed in return. “You’ve only just saved me from being burgled by her again. This is the second time. She’s stolen a bag of gold from me before, only a couple of months back.”

“Truly?” the guard yanked her up off the floor. “She looks like a bad sort.”

She dangled at the man’s side, only half-conscious. The guard’s gaze raked over her, taking in her dark, clinging clothes and leather boots, designed for soft steps.

“Thief’s clothing for sure.”

The guard pointed at the man on the floor, tied and gagged. “She do that to him?”

Travius moved forward to untie him, his fancy purple robes swishing around his feet. His extravagant dress robes had hindered him in his capture of Nim, and they hindered him now as he bent to untie the man. He twisted them out of the way.

“I’m afraid so. She’s a nasty one.”

The guard nodded.

“We’ll take care of that. On your feet, thief. It’s jail for you.”

His gravelly, grating voice broke through her state of confusion. His fingers sank into her flesh as he lifted her up, forcing her to stand.

Travius grinned, his teeth shining. With his expensive robes and smooth, fair face, he made a grand figure. And a triumphant one.

“I told you I’d find you,” he said, his eyes intent. “And you’ll serve your time now.”

He shook his head, templing his fingers in front of his chest. The Twelvemoon Stone, only a harmless rock, lay abandoned by the wall.

“I always get justice. Always.”

“I should’ve listened,” Nim said.

Her lips felt hot and a bit swollen, but her face seemed otherwise unharmed from her sudden contact with the guard’s metal breastplate. No teeth lost.

The guard yanked at her arm, dragging her unceremoniously out of the small room. The last thing she heard was Travius laughing, and the guard she had gagged and tied joining in.

The second guard took her down a set of stairs and into an alleyway behind the rich man’s house. There, he shoved her away from him.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he said. His voice had shifted. It was no longer gravelly or gruff. Instead, it was low and somewhat melodious, if a bit angry. He took off the guard’s helmet and held it out to Nim. “Do you know how difficult it was to get this outfit?”

“How’d you know I was in trouble?” Nim asked, following him out into the street as he stalked away. The area’s steady thrum of morning activities was moving along on schedule, and she stepped out of the way of a moving cart as she turned the helmet over in her hands. It looked brand-new. “I told you I’d be fine.”

“You always say you’ll be fine,” Toby said, running a hand through his dark hair. He shook his head and frowned. “You take too many risks, you know.”

“Where’d you find this helmet?” Nim asked, dogging his steps and eager to change the subject.

“None of your business,” Toby said, surly. He walked steadily, sure of his destination.

“You could sing me a song about it,” Nim said, trying not to smile. Toby hated it when she made jokes about his songs.

After a moment, though, he turned his head and grinned. He couldn’t help it.

“No need for a song. I got it off a new recruit,” he chuckled. “Sleeping off a night of celebration behind in the alley.”

He tossed the helmet into the back of an empty, unhitched carriage as they passed and kept walking down the cobblestone street.

Toby glanced down at Nim, who was having to take two steps for every one he took. “Can we stop looking for that rock now?”

“We can stop looking for the Twelvemoon Stone now,” Nim agreed. “On to the next artifact, my friend.”

Toby shook his head. “So you didn’t get the rock, eh? I knew it was all a setup when I saw that foul Travius go in behind you.” 

He turned the corner toward the wide road leading out of town.

“The next adventure’s of my choosing, then,” he said. “I’ve got more sense than you.”

Nim smiled. Toby liked to tease. But she knew how fond of her he really was. After all, she’d saved his life many times. Toby might be good in town, where his wits and entertainment could save him, but he was no warrior.

“Out into the world again?” Nim asked as they passed through the main gate. The fresh morning breeze sent her blonde hair into a frenzy and blew away any disappointment over the supposedly expensive gem she’d missed out on. There’d be more to find out there. 

“I don’t think we’d do well to stay near Travius, do you?” he asked, his voice clipped. “I can’t pretend to be a guard forever. I’m not looking for a new career path at the moment.”

“Into the world then!” Nim breathed the air deeply and patted Toby on the small of his back. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. And you can sing songs about it afterward.”

Toby laughed and pulled a delicate lute from his pack. 

“If I have to keep saving you from prison, I’m going to have to start singing songs about myself.”

***