“You should have warned me there would be so many gems,” Aven grumbled, running his fingers over his shaved head. The courtyard was filled with men and women milling around making pleasant conversation. They were dressed in elaborately embroidered silks and ornate headpieces, with bracelets and rings on every finger and wrist. Tables with fine food were scattered around and a band played music over the murmur of conversation.
“Be patient,” Bill chuckled, gently nudging the younger man in the ribs. He had long, coarse black hair that hung down his back and a beard of equal measure that hung down his front. His neck was ringed with iridescent blue scales that ran down to his shoulders. “We have a far greater prize on the horizon.”
“Doesn’t make it any less tempting,” Aven whispered, adjusting his simple robe as a well-dressed man approached them.
“Ezu Endin, I must thank you again for accepting my invitation,” the man said with a shallow bow, rattling the pearl-fringed hem of his silk robes. “Your presence is a blessing upon my home.”
“And what a beautiful home it is, Magistrate Tiyake” said Bill, returning the bow. Bill wore nothing but a black loincloth and open, black coat that showed off his hairy legs and belly. “My acolyte and I have rarely seen such a place”. The three-story mansion loomed up above the walled courtyard, shielding the party-goers from the afternoon sun.
“It is wonderful,” Aven said, mimicking Bill’s bow. He was dressed simply as well, wearing a gray short-sleeved robe and loose gray pants that ran to his knees. “I have never had such wonderful food.”
“It is only natural to want the best,” laughed the Magistrate.
“But perhaps,” Bill said solemnly. “It is unnatural to have so much of the best.”
The Magistrate nodded sagely. “You speak wisely. What is left uneaten at my home is always sent along to the bellies of the poorest in Chanan Harbor.”
Bill pressed his palms together and intertwined his fingers. “You are a man of splendor and of balance, Magistrate.”
“You are too kind, Ezu,” the Magistrate beamed. “I hope I can ask one more kindness of you. My guests will be gathering for the poetry reading soon. Could I ask you to say a few words before we begin? So that my guests may benefit from your wisdom, of course.”
“It would be an honor. I will take some time to prepare my remarks,” said Bill. “May my acolyte and I make use of your rain shrine? I have already been shown where it is. All I would ask for is solitude.”
“I will instruct my guards to let none bother you until it is time,” the Magistrate said with a bow before taking his leave to attend to other guests.
“You play the Ezu very well,” Aven said after they made their way through the crowded courtyard into the mansion. The polished wooden floors were mostly devoid of life, with the occasional servant flitting back and forth and guards doing their rounds.
“It’s almost like I was born one,” he said, scratching at the scales on his neck. “Nothing like a sacred hermit hanging around to make these types feel important and holy.” The pair quieted themselves as they passed a lone guard standing watch by a thick wooden door.
They did not speak until they reached the solitude of the rain shrine. It was an internal courtyard open to the sky with a shallow pool of water at the center of the room. In the middle of the pool rose a marble pillar carved to look like flowing water at the bottom and clouds at the top. “Blessed be the Eternal Waters,” Bill said, clapping his hands together.
Aven waited to speak until the clap’s echo stopped. He looked up and examined the windows that ringed the courtyard until he was sure no one was listening in. “What’s your plan?”
“I am much more interested in hearing your plan,” Bill grunted, sitting down and folding his legs into the lotus position. “Breaking and entering is your trade, not mine.”
Aven took a deep breath and stepped up next to Bill, looming over the sitting man. “Everything we heard from that drunk chambermaid was accurate. The whole house is empty, all the staff are outside tending to the guests. Guards too, except for the one guarding the door to the basement where the strongroom is. All we have to do is distract him long enough for me to slip in, which should be easy now that I’ve lifted this,” Aven said, holding up a shiny brass key.
“When did you do that?” asked Bill, lifting a bushy eyebrow.
“When you were lecturing the guard captain on proper breathing,” Aven grinned, stowing it back in his pouch. “From what the chambermaid said, he doesn’t like having a guard in front of the strongroom itself. Breaking in should be a breeze, the locks on strongroom doors aren’t that tough to crack open.”
“Getting out seems to be the harder part. Once you’re in the basement there’s no way for you to get out with the guard at the door,” said Bill.
“I counted windows when we walked the grounds. There are narrow, barred windows that lead into the basement. I can separate the bars from the wood and slip out, stash the loot and return to your side before anyone knows anything is missing,” said Aven, pulling a clay jar out of his belt. He dipped his fingers into it and drew four symbols on his arm with the ash.
A smile flashed under Bill's beard. “Your mother would be proud.”
“I’m not actually stabbing Azun in the face right now, so I doubt it,” Aven said, making for the door. “Count to forty and get the guard to come over here.”
“Good luck,” said Bill.
Aven slipped out the door and casually walked past the guard, taking note of his height, build and the reach of his arms. He stepped around the nearest corner and waited, controlling his breath and counting to forty.
“Excuse me!” Bill called from down the hallway. “One of the statues in this room is out of alignment and I need some help adjusting it.”
“Ezu, I am on watch,” the guard replied.
“I wouldn’t bother you, but my acolyte has gone to relieve himself and I can’t move it on my own. Your Master wants a blessing ceremony done at moonrise and I can’t make the proper preparations until everything is in alignment. The Magistrate said he wanted everything to be perfect,” Bill stressed.
The guard grumbled and stepped away from his post. Aven pounced, walking silently across the floor and slipping the key into the lock while Bill loudly praised the guard. After two quick turns he was in, gently shutting the door behind him. He stood on the top step and peered into the dim, dusty basement. Shafts of light shone through narrow windows, illuminating shelves, crates and a door made of solid iron. Aven crept down the stairs, testing each step for a squeak until he reached the stone floor. He pressed himself up against the wall and stripped off his shirt and pants. They were reversible, with black on one side and brown on the other. If he was spotted, no one could quickly identify him by his clothes. He tied a black mask over his head that covered everything but his eyes and approached the door.
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The strong room door was a massive slab of iron with bolts spread out in a regular pattern. “Four by six…made in Zi Sel,” he muttered to himself, pulling a pair of long metal rods out of his pouch. There were only so many foundries and blacksmiths that could make a door like this and they didn’t switch up their tricks very often. Aven held his breath, pressed his ear to the iron and slid the rods in, listening for the tell-tale click of a tripped bolt. Minutes dragged by until a vibration rumbled through the door as the lock disengaged. Aven flinched as he eased the door open, even the gentle grinding of the well-oiled hinges sounded deafening in the silent basement. But no one came to investigate.
With no windows, the strongroom was blacker than a moonless night. The dim light from the basement let him find a pair of hooded lanterns that he quickly lit. One he left by the door and the other he carried with him to examine the shelves. The walls of the strong room were lined with shelves and cabinets and another line of shelves split the room in half. The light from the lantern glittered off stacked bars of gold and silver, as well as ivory tusks and hunks of uncarved jade. “Stupid contract,” Aven grumbled, easing the iron door shut until it was almost closed. This type couldn’t be opened from the inside and getting stuck would cause problems.
“This better be worth it Tsen,” he muttered, walking past the glittering treasures to his goal, the bland, dusty bookshelf at the far end of the room. “Lanzu’s Manual of Plant Summons,” Aven said to himself, holding the lantern up. A pit dug into his stomach when he realized there were dozens more books than he thought there would be. He could read Linelan Script and quickly ruled out any of those, but that left fifteen more books written in Old Qis. Slipping away with one book was simple, but a shelf of them would be nearly impossible.
“Treasure won’t just fall into your hands,” he whispered, repeating one of his mother’s lessons. “You’ll have to work for it, even when it’s a fingertip away.” Aven closed his eyes and tried to remember some of the books Tsen read back on the ship. Some of the ones he read out on deck had illustrations that looked like his summons. Maybe some of the books would have pictures like those.
Before he could test his theory, a key slid into the lock of the iron door. Aven blew out his lantern and leapt behind the shelf that split the room. The door swung open and a pair of well-dressed party-goers were silhouetted by the dim basement light. “Oh look, someone left a lantern on,” a male voice said, picking up the lit lantern and holding it high. Aven looked down to keep the light from shining off his eyes.
“Wow,” said a female voice, leaning on the man’s shoulder. Aven stood stock still, movement would give him away more than anything else.
“Big, isn’t it,” the male said, voice filled with pride. “This is where my father stores most of our valuables. In the right market, that uncut jade is worth more than those gold bars.”
“You didn’t come down here to show me a bunch of rocks, did you?” the woman huffed.
“Of course not,” the man laughed, leading her to a cabinet on the same wall as the door. “I know what makes you shine.”
Aven slid around the shelf and crouched down for better cover. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he took a deep breath and throttled them. He wasn’t spotted yet, no alarm had been raised. Patience.
The woman squealed as the man pulled open a wooden cabinet, revealing stacks of fur pelts on the bottom and fur-trimmed robes hanging above. “Oh, so soft,” she purred, reaching out to rub one of them.
“They’re not in fashion, so my father bought them cheap. When they come back into style they’ll be worth a fortune,” the man said, taking one off its hanger and handing it to her. “Wouldn’t it be marvelous to be married to the source?”
“This feels more like bribery than a proposal,” the woman said airily, wrapping herself in the furs.
Aven scowled, knees burning as the pair went back and forth. His luck had held so far, but he couldn’t be sure they would stay by the furs. If the man tried to sweeten the deal by showing off some other riches there was too much of a chance he’d get caught. But it wasn’t over yet and Aven creeped along the ground towards the door. If he could get out and hide in the basement all he would need to do was wait out their bargaining session until they left. They were so wrapped up in each other they’d never notice him slip out.
“You make me feel like a horse up for auction,” the woman sniffed, fluffing the furs up under her chin.
“I’m just showing you that I can provide a life for you,” the man said, reaching out his hands, only for her to step away. “I know you have suitors at your door day and night, what could they have that I don’t?”
“They write poems for me to appeal to my heart,” the woman scoffed.
“I guarantee you every one of those poems was paid for,” the man scoffed back. “Can any of them provide you with things you love? Furs from the north? The finest quality Yerba? Turtle meat from the deep oceans?”
“If you want to marry me,” she said, pressing her hand against her face and spinning around to show him her back. “You have to speak to my-“
She froze when she caught sight of Aven halfway through the strong room door.
He leapt through the door and slammed it shut, the clang rattling his teeth. He heard faint screams and the sound of fists on the iron before he dived for cover behind a crate.
“Young Master?” the guard said from the top of the stairs. “Young Master?” he said again when no one answered. He rushed down the stairs and swore when he saw the strong room door shut. “No no no,” he gasped, grabbing the door and attempting to pry it open. “No! I am-“
Aven snuck up behind him and slipped a rope around his neck, pulling it tight. The guard lurched backwards and fell on top of Aven, clawing at the rope around his neck for a few seconds until he went limp. Aven dragged him under the stairs and checked his breathing with the back of his hand. The man hadn’t seen anything, there was no reason to leave a corpse behind. Slipping up the stairs, Aven peeked through a crack in the door and saw no one in the hallway. It wouldn’t be long before the guard awoke and stumbled upstairs for help. If he could get back to Bill, he could change his clothes and plead ignorance. He slipped out of the door and hurried towards the rain shrine.
A maid rounded the corner, a pile of soiled tablecloths in her hands. She screamed at the top of her lungs and hurled the tablecloths at him. “Help! Help!” she howled, running the other way.
Whistles sounded outside. One, then two, then dozens. The whole compound was on alert. Aven tossed the tablecloths off him and ran upstairs, heart hammering in his chest. Escape was the only option now as guards flooded the house. He leapt through the nearest door he could find and closed it behind him. It was small, with only a bed, desk and wardrobe with a window looking out into the courtyard below. Heavy boots thundered up the stairs behind him and he pressed up against the wall next to the door. A guard shoved the door open and Aven bit his lip to keep from grunting when it slammed into him. The guard dropped to his knees and looked under the bed, then stuck his head out the window. “You there, has anyone come out of these windows?”
“No,” Bills voice replied from below. “What’s the matter?”
“Stay where you are!” the guard said, racing back out of the room.
Aven let out a breath as more guards flooded upstairs. Once they didn’t find him, they would do a much more thorough search. It was time to leave now. The gates would be closed to lock him in, so the only option would be to go over the wall. Which meant getting outside. Which meant-.
Someone rushed into the room. A dark-skinned woman in a white and green dress yanked open a drawer and dug to the bottom, letting out a sigh of relief and saying something in a language Aven didn’t understand. She turned and locked her glowing, golden eyes on him.
Aven shoved the door closed and surged forward, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Quiet,” he snapped. The woman shoved him off with ease, sending him crashing to the floor. Aven yelped as he hit the ground, looking up in shock.
She stared down at him; eyes bright. She was tall and long dreadlocks spilled down her shoulders. “Wait,” she said in the Gray language, holding out her hand.
“What was that?!” bellowed someone outside in the hall.
Aven leapt to his feet and rushed past the golden-eyed woman, leaping out the window and into the rain shrine below. He rolled when he landed in the shallow water, sloshing to a stop and leaping to his feet.
“There he is, stop him!” shouted the guard from above.
Bill lunged at Aven so slowly that he couldn’t help but dodge. Aven ran past him and out into the hallway with Bill close behind. His heart surged when there were no guards to be seen, only bewildered party guests. “Assassin, assassin!” Bill screamed when he followed Aven out. The guests panicked and leapt out of his way, clearing a path outside. Bursting out into the sunlight, Aven spotted an oxcart parked up against the wall and bolted for it. The guards were clustered at the gates and failed to intercept him in time. With two jumps Aven was up and over the courtyard wall, disappearing down an alleyway as fast as he could.