To my surprise, the threatening figure at the door, was none other than Yaelle, spear in hand. She clearly was very upset, and headed straight toward me. I was not exactly camouflaged, holding a literal light emitting marker.

What was she doing? Did someone dangerous come? The guards?

Upon seeing me, instead of stopping and explaining as I expected her to, Yaelle actually started moving faster.

“Where is he?!” she yelled, enraged.

I had no idea who she was talking about, but considering she was about to skewer me, I carefully walked backwards up the stairs.

“W-what’s going on?” I asked her, panic shaking my voice. I hesitated on whether to take my chances hiding upstairs or attempting to pass by her somehow and escape into the streets.

I put the glowing stone down on one of the steps as I kept backing away. Not a useful item in either case.

“Loann’s gone!” she accused, still approaching. “Your buddies took him somewhere!”

My buddies? What? Why did she think I had friends out there?

“I don’t know what you think I have done,” I pleased, “but I swear I am not responsible for Loann’s disappearance.”

I was almost at the at top of the stairs. Just a couple more steps…

“Oh yeah? Let’s see what you took, then!” she said, dashing forward.

I failed to follow her reasoning, but admittedly, I had other worries at the moment. Yaelle’s unexpected lunge had brought her to the bottom of the stairs. As I could not match her speed, we found ourselves face to face, only separated by easily climbed steps and one shiny blue waymarker.

Yaelle paused her motion and frowned, staring at the only thing I still held in my hand.

“Just the letter?” she asked, looking me over.

“That is what you asked for, is it not?” I replied hurriedly, utterly confused, but glad she might no longer be so inclined to kill me. “The letter for Lord Neventer,” I added, though I doubted she needed the clarification.

“And nothing else?” she insisted, still inspecting me.

“No!” I denied vehemently. I did not think it a wise moment to point out that I had indeed considered taking something much, much more valuable.

“Fuck!” she swore, but stopped pointing her spear at me.

She took some time to think, reassuring me about my chances of making it out of here alive.

“Alright, you’re coming with me,” she finally announced. “We’re going to report this to Lord Derrien.”

Now that the immediate danger was past, I started wondering about the consequences of Yaelle barging in.

“What about the alarm?” I asked her, still shaking with emotion. “Have you not triggered it? Should we not run before the guards come?”

If we got caught here, Yaelle might have the right connections to avoid a harsh punishment, but I doubted Lord Derrien would sacrifice much to spare me. Hopefully, she would not try to fight the guards. Although… maybe that would prove enough of a distraction for me to escape.

“Oh, that? No, don’t worry about it,” she answered, to my surprise. “But yes, we have to hurry.”

Yaelle dashed to the door, and I started following her. When I halted to retrieve the light emitting stone, she glanced back and stopped me.

“Don’t bother, “ she ordered. “Just leave it.”

That would indeed make running easier, but it was confusing, since she had specifically given me the opposite order before.

“I thought you said this left a trail that could be traced back to you,” I said, half-asking a question.

Not wanting to make it an actual issue, I left the rock on the stairs and follower her out, closing the door behind me.

Her creature had stayed outside. So had the enchanted cloak, laying unceremoniously in the dirty. I grabbed the garment and quickly put it on as Yaelle kept on walking hurriedly. We were going back to the place they had initially brought me to.

----------------------------------------

There was nothing to distinguish the thieves’ hideout from all the other buildings in the street. At least, nothing that I could perceive. The notion that perhaps some other form of marking may exist, yet be as invisible to me as the switches were, could not be discarded. To my eyes, it looked like a single story construction made of the same stone bricks that proved ubiquitous in this city. A few windows here and there, but their shutters were currently closed. I knew it had at least one other floor, underground.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

As we entered, I stopped and, exhausted by our hurried walk, worked on getting my breathing under control. Yaelle was far from sharing my physical condition, appearing mostly unaffected by the effort. This lack of endurance could prove problematic in the future, and I resolved to improve on that point.

Perhaps misinterpreting the reason for my pause, Yaelle spoke.

“Go back to your room for now. We’ll take care of it,” she instructed me, going through a door I knew nothing about.

For once, Yaelle’s furry companion did not follow her, but stayed with me instead. Looking at the animal, I had no doubt of its intelligence, seeing through the animal’s attempt at fooling me by having its tongue hang loosely to the side. It did not appear aggressive, however, so I was not too worried.

This was the first time I was on my own in this building, prison cell excepted. Enjoying the absence of a forceful escort, I observed my surroundings.

The entrance led to a very large corridor, with five doors on each side. Lighting was assured by magical stones, unsurprisingly. It was fairly barren, with only a few sideboards, upon which sat nothing, a couple of chairs, and a bowl of water next to an empty one. The latter was likely meant for Yaelle’s beast. My cell was in a room underground, a place accessed through stairs hidden behind the last door on the right.

While I recalled the way to my cell, and was about to go, a sudden realization stopped me: there was something wrong with how Yaelle had behaved. Under immediate danger, I had not really been paying attention to the implications of her statements. Now, though, I understood she had expected me to have taken more than just the letter. How did she know that there was more to be taken? Not only that, but while the emergency could explain a disregard for the risk of magical alarms, it did not excuse leaving evidence she had clearly stated could incriminate her. This robbery must have been a test of some kind. Yaelle knew the owner would not exact retribution for it. And, somehow, taking more than what the mission specified would have meant failing. Furthermore, she also seemed convinced to do so would have revealed me as belonging to an unknown attacker.

My musing was interrupted by the door Yaelle had entered opening again, this time letting Lord Derrien out, followed by Yaelle and a man I had not seen before.

The stranger had long black hair tied in a knot. His dark skin matched the color of the leather he wore, a combination highlighting his metallic breastplate. I could distinguish the corners of a shield on his back, something seemingly rare in these parts. Much more common was the fact that he was armed, some kind of thin sword being attached to his side.

“You?” Lord Derrien remarked upon seeing me.

Any notion of confrontation over this subterfuge of a mission disappeared instantly as I laid eyes on him. As one would expect of any criminal gang leader, the man exuded threat through appearance alone. I had not taken notice of it before, but Lord Derrien did not appear to even bother carrying a weapon. Perhaps his fists were dangerous enough.

“I am sorry. I was about to go back to my room, but got caught up in my thoughts,” I mumbled. “I will be going now.”

I started leaving for the stairs, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Wait! It’s fine,” Lord Derrien assured me. “I was going to fetch you, anyway. I need you to find Aostin and tell him about the situation. The kidnappers will try to catch the Locomotive.”

He handed me a small torn page on which was drawn a line with many angles.

“Aostin is at The Proud Rats. Just follow the directions on this paper. You do know who Aostin is, right?” the man I currently worked for asked, frowning.

“Yes,” I assured him. I reached for the paper, but then stopped, as I realized my hand was already holding something. “What should I do about the letter?”

“The letter? For my brother? Just leave it on a table there. It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Now, go. We wasted too much time already.”

I put the letter I had taken from what I now believed to be Lord Derrien’s own house on a sideboard before leaving the building. The group followed me out and locked the door.

As I started struggling to understand the directions sketched on the paper, Derrien pointed to a street, providing me with the clue I needed to read the overly simplistic map he had given me.

Unfortunately, he and his company walked toward the other way, so I found myself alone in the streets of this city I did not even know the name of. Again.

----------------------------------------

The late hour ensured I encountered very few people. None of those I did cross paths with appeared to be sober.

As I faced it from the shadows, I could not decide whether the establishment supposedly hosting Aostin was intended for rich people or not. The facade of this bar was a work of art, but the theme might not please the most wealthy of patrons: painted on luminescent materials were humanoid rats dressed in ridiculously complex costumes. A clear mockery of their pettiness. Emotional auras encircled the head of each animal, but this time the symbols and colors did not seem that out of place. Indeed, their chaos paled compared to that of the depicted attires.

A man stood at the entrance, guarding it. Clearly an employee of the bar, for he wore a fitting set of clothes. It was as if someone had turned a gaudy carpet into a tunic, then a colony of multicolored ribbons had sprouted on one side. Still, his rapier was visible, making it evident the man could in fact repeal undesirables.

“That is going to make things difficult,” I muttered to myself.

I recalled Nouel saying an enchanted cloak would not provide camouflage for someone interacting with me. Thinking about this, I also realized the oddity of the cloak providing any cover at all. Should the enchantment not have stopped, since I probably could not recharge it? And what were its effects, exactly?

Now was not the time to question it. Loann’s situation was urgent.

Perhaps the fact that I no longer wore any weapon would help prevent a conflict when I talked to the man. If I just chose my words carefully when starting the conversation, surely he would see reason and not attack.

Becoming more easily noticeable as I walked into the light emitted by the painted walls, I addressed the bouncer.

“Lord Derrien sent me,” I said as calmly as I could. I had kept the message short and to the point so that there could be no misunderstanding.

I must still have failed, because the man reached for his weapon, regardless. However, instead of rage distorting his face, I could see fear. Indeed, he was rapidly losing color, contrasting more and more with his gaudy tunic. Fortunately, it seemed this reaction had also forestalled his drawing of the rapier.

“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed. “He’s real!”

I was already stepping backward, raising my hands to motion him to stop any incoming attack, but to my astonishment, he bolted. Too stunned to react, only my eyes moved, following him as he turned a corner and disappeared.

“What? But...” I asked the night. “What happened?”

I reasoned it was best not to stay here wondering for too long. Indeed, even if not for Loann’s situation, waiting for the man’s potential return was foolish.

Instead, I opened the door he had been guarding and entered the bar.