Dragon Thief Box Set

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It was getting a little old being left behind in this jungle of commerce. Again, I gave chase, and again I lost my prey, but not for a bad reason.

I had reached the district with the containers. Baskets hung everywhere and adorned pottery glistened in the sun. One of the taller woven baskets, one tucked into the back row of a very full and large stall, had caught my attention, or rather, who was climbing into it. The little scamp who had stolen my broom slipped inside, but he had a little trouble dipping the tall broom in with him, which is what caught my attention. He finally succeeded in climbing inside and placing the solid woven cap over him.

I tiptoed through the forest of baskets and up to his little hiding spot. For my efforts I received an askance look from the proprietor, but a sheepish smile from me and another customer gave me an opening.

I flung off the lid and the boy gave a stifled cry. The young thief sat in the bottom with a knife in one hand and the broom in the other. I had interrupted him slicing through two of the famed knots. At my appearance, he clutched the broom tightly against his chest, but I was still bigger than him and was able to snatch the broom out of his grasp. In the tussle, some of the blanket slipped off the handle, but I managed to wrench it out of the basket.

“Give that back!” he cried out as he tried to leap to his feet. I slammed the lid on his head and felt him squirming beneath the rope strands. His soft muffled voice filtered through the tight binding. “Let me out of here!”

“Not until you behave,” I told him.

“You’re not my mom!”

“Thank God.” I muttered as I looked around for something heavy.

My prayers were answered by a heavy rock used to anchor the tent down in high winds. I waited until the young lad had paused a moment before I dropped the broom and scooped up the rock. In a quick moment, the heavy miniature boulder lay atop the basket. I had to admit the weaving was impressive.

“Lemme out!”

I stepped back and plucked the partially unwrapped broom from the ground. “Count the threads. That’ll give you something to do before the owner finds you.” A scream came from the basket, but it was so muffled I could barely hear it from where I stood.

I sauntered out of the stall with my prize in hand. There was no sign of Castle and the soldier was nowhere to be seen, but that gave me time to try to adjust the blanket around the broom. The cut ropes were proving to be invaluable, as the covering wouldn’t stop slipping off.

I needed a good place to do the adjustments in private, and I noticed I had reached the border of the plaza. An opening in the low wall led to a side street of shops, along with a few alleys. I slipped down one of those shop streets and into the first alley. The dank space with its wet dirt ground reeked of sewage, but at least I was alone to figure out how best to cover the broom.

“What have you got there, dearie?”

I whipped my head up toward the street and found the way darkened by the short figure of an ancient crone. She fit the picture perfectly: a tattered shawl, a drab-colored dress, and long scraggly white hair. Her face was a mess of wrinkles from which a long nose stuck out. The woman’s sharp black eyes lay on the broom in my hand.

I clutched the object against my chest and took a step back. “Nothing.”

The woman held out one wizened hand. “Then you won’t mind giving it to me.”

I shook my head. “Sorry. Christmas isn’t for another few months.”

She leapt at me with more speed than I would have given her credit. Her bony hands wrapped around the broom handle, and we played tug-of-war in the cramped space. Our shoulders knocked against the wall and my feet tripped over the uneven, puddle-ridden ground.

The crone had speed and surprise, but she didn’t have strength. I wrenched the broom from her hands, and she clawed the air to snatch her grip back. One of her clawed fingers snagged on the ribbon around my wrist and pulled the knot loose.

My breath caught in my throat as my facade flickered before completely fading. The crone stopped her fighting and gaped at me. I turned tail and raced away down the alley to the adjoining street. The light shone on my eyes, blinding me for a moment until I knocked into someone.

“Easy there,” came the familiar voice of the soldier as he caught my arms. “You shouldn’t…” I whipped my head up and froze when I saw the recognition in his eyes. “You!” I broke from his grasp and rushed through the gap in the low plaza wall. “Hey! Stop!”

I heeded his words like a dog heeds a rolled-up newspaper, with tail tucked between my legs as my feet sped me far away from the trouble. I slammed into the ground and frantically waded through the stream, all to no avail. I was repelled by the angry looks and furious hands of those trying to find their own way through the chaos. A particularly large woman used her thick arm to shove me between two stalls where I spun around and stumbled backward.

I caught sight of the soldier having better luck wading through the obliging populace. There was no way through the plaza mess, so I scampered behind the stalls and over the short wall. The winding streets of the metropolis had more welcoming arms as I ran down the thoroughfare.

I took one of the first side streets available to me, hoping in my chaotic route that I would lose my follower. That’s how I ended up on that dingy little road lined with tiny shops and homes. My frantic feet also led me to trip over a pile of junk that sat beneath a shop window, and I crashed to the ground with the broom clattering to the stones close beside me. The blanket completely fell off and I was left scrambling for the clumsy handle.

“Why can’t you be smaller!” I snapped as I struggled to sit up.

I gasped as the strange light from before illuminated the object. The grooves lit up and the wood shivered beneath my hands before the whole thing shrank. In a few seconds, I found myself holding on to a small clarinet-like instrument.

“How very interesting.”

I tilted my head back and found myself staring into the interested eyes of a small, slender man of sixty. Scars covered his hands which were clasped in front of him, and there was one markedly long one down his left cheek. His medium-length hair was a mess of gray strands dispersed throughout his otherwise brown locks. He wore a simple black shirt and red vest, along with a sturdy pair of black pants. A long gray cloak covered his back and brushed against the ground behind him.

What stood out most was his peaked nose and sharp eyes. Those gray orbs showed an open curiosity as they studied me.

The stranger knelt in front of me and tightened the ribbon. “This should no doubt be worn properly.” The mirage swept over me in a second. He drew off his worn cloak and tossed it over my chest, so the cloth covered most of my front. “And a little something, just in case.”

At that moment I heard the swift feet of my pursuer. The stranger, too, turned his attention in the direction I had run, and the soldier hurried up to us and leaned on his spear.

He had to catch his breath a moment before he asked us a question. “Have you seen a young woman with brown hair pass through here?”

The old man stood and pointed further down the street. “Yes. She was quite rude and knocked this other woman down. You can catch her if you’re quick enough.”

The soldier bowed his head. “Thank you, sir.” And with that, he sprinted down the street.

The stranger waited until the soldier was out of sight before he returned his focus to me. “Can you stand?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

The man watched me climb to my feet with that keen air about him. “I feared I would have had to carry you to Castle, wherever that scoundrel has gone off to.”

I froze and gaped at him. “Castle? How do you know I’m with him?”

He lifted up my left hand where the ribbon proudly displayed its new bow. “Not every family has such an unusual magical trinket, Miss-?”

“Millie,” I told him as I tried to brush myself off with my right hand. The flute, however, got in the way, and I stared confused at the small item. “It changed again.”

“I would dearly like to question your use of the word ‘again,’ but I fear this isn’t the place for such a discussion,” the professor mused as he took up the throw blanket and draped it over one arm. “Shall we find that rascal who has so abandoned you to the wolfish guards?”

It was my turn to study him. “Who are you?”

He frowned. “Has he never mentioned the Honorable Professor Edward Impara?”

My mouth dropped open again, and just when I was getting all the flies out. “You… your Professor Impara?”

He waved his hand at me. “Yes, yes, now let’s be off before you cause more trouble, and include me in it.”