KINGSLAYER

♕ 4 | 5 ♕

"You must be joking." My voice was flatter than the thin cakes being sold on the street corner by a man in an apron. Their sweet fumes filled the air. "You are even less intelligent than I imagined if that is the lie you chose."

"I actually don't have it." Holding out his arms straight out, he said, "Just this once, I give you permission to pat me down. Just to be sure. But no wandering hands, Imperatrix," he added with a chiding finger.

"I would sooner chop them off." Jerking my head downward, I demanded, "Take off your jacket and turn out all your pockets."

He did as I commanded, showing the knife was indeed not on his person. However, that did not mean he was being honest with me.

"That should do," he said, shoving his pockets back in and keeping his hands there. "Unless you want me to strip completely, in which case we'll need to go somewhere more secluded."

My eyes narrowed in dislike. "Do not be idiotic. And hurry your pace." Though I knew no one was visible, at least, I glanced over my shoulder. "Whoever—whatever—was down there, they know the artifact is missing, and they know the route I took to break out."

"'Whatever'?"

"Yes..." My limbs felt shaky when I revisited the events underground. "You know the stories of extremist Draven worshippers. From the little I saw, that was one of their most sacred temples—and whatever horrors the legends speak of, they seem to be true. Those people were dabbling with more than humans should."

"Hounds, this is wonderful," he said, not seriously, having not picked up on the fact I was shaken to the core. Or he just did not care. "It seems we've built up a healthy amount of enemies who will be chasing us the full way to the City of Luck."

I loosed a weak breath, feeling more undone than ever. Had I not gone to great lengths to conceal our identities and our goal? Look what became of that. If our enemies kept building, kept spreading the information to smoke us out—specifically a lost Queen as far from safety as she could be—news would likely spread to everyone like Alexander, everyone short of the law. They would flock to us like ants to a dying animal.

We weaved from street to street, being sure to remain in the busiest, loudest areas. Street dancers moved to music from instrument-players for spare coins. People were lined up past the door of a bakery that smelled heavily of pastries. None of them knew a heart of an evil God spread below their feet.

"You know," Alexander switched casually to Navrikan as a well-to-do family went by, the two children wearing perfectly-fitted dresses with gold buttons and hats to match. "This is prime thieving territory."

"Oh?" I lifted an eyebrow. "Will you finally give in to instructing me in your sleight-of-hand trickery?"

He sighed, as if it cost him greatly to hold up his end of the deal. "I refuse to give up all my secrets. You're only an amateur, after all. But what I can give you are several pieces of advice before you make your first move."

Bobbing my head, I prompted him to go on. "The first thing you must keep in mind is who the easiest target will be. Sure, I could steal the shoelaces off a noble if I wished, but the point still stands. Unless you have a specific person in mind, be smart. Know your mark."

"Tourists," I guessed.

"If they are unsuspecting, yes. Some people wear their feelings like a coat; you can decipher whether they're on guard or not. Look for the signs. Everyone has a tell." I frowned darkly, not wanting to know what mine was. "Also, as I'm sure you know from watching me, pickpocketing in crowds is infinitely easier because you have excuse for accidental contact if you're sloppy. Go for people with thick jackets or bags; more layers mean their sense of touch is dulled.

I hefted the box under my arm as the wood began to slip against my sleeve. "And what if the time comes in which there are less passerby to mask your actions?"

"Every situation differs. In some, a distraction may be needed. In others, you can get away with it using fast enough reflexes and a relaxed, normal air. Most times, acting suspicious is what will get you caught. If you make your mark question if what happened really happened, if you can trick them into thinking they're the one out-of-sorts well enough, you can get away with murder."

"You said 'most times'. Surely there is no instance in which acting suspicious is a help."

Shrugging, he answered, "Not always. Sometimes, the clearest path to success is drawing your attention to anywhere but the thing you're trying to steal."

Sensing my confusion, he looked up at the cerulean sky, thinking of how to elaborate. "For example... Say there's a tourist. And they're looking at you while subtly hovering their hand over their pocket where their wallet is hidden. Tell me what you would do."

My mind whirled for the correct response, knowing it was a trick answer. "Tail them into an alleyway, threaten them with a blade and take their wallet under the threat of death."

Alexander rolled his eyes so dramatically they were nearly fully white. "No, obviously not. We want to remain subtle, not openly bloodthirsty. If all their focus is on not having their wallet stolen, it's that much easier to brush past them on the other side and steal the iron keys to their house in their other pocket. Or the brooch in their hair. Get it?"

I was hesitant to be too cocky. "I believe so."

"Okay." Taking his hand from his pocket to point to an older man standing in line, he ordered, "Bring me whatever's inside that man's briefcase."

My gaze honing in on the leather briefcase—more particularly, the double heavy latches—embarrassment built in my chest at the thought. Of course he purposely chose an impossible task. "You cannot be serious—"

"Go." He nudged me forward, doing a terrible job of subduing his smile. "Having the balls to do it is half the struggle. Just do what I'd do."

When he forced me off the edge and onto the cobbled street, I glared back, suddenly determined to prove him wrong. I would be successful. If I possessed the gall to fight and kill warriors in front of thousands of spectators, I could steal a simple briefcase.

Lost in his own world, the man had not noticed me coming up at an angle to his rear. I felt Alexander's eyes on me the closer I became. Glancing down, I imagined unbuckling the briefcase with one hand and reaching inside with the other. Two swift motions and the deed would be done. As long as I let the briefcase hang freely, being sure not to jostle it in his slack grip, the mark would likely not notice until I was slipping into the crowds.

What if someone else saw me? I was only a few paces away. How could I naturally stunt my pace just enough to pull it off? I was never more aware of the space I took up than I was then.

At the last second, I turned ever so slightly, which ended with my left knee hitting the briefcase out of the man's light grip. It fell onto the street, its contents thudding all over the gray stone. The mark looked annoyedly down at me. My lips pulled wide in a cringing grin.

"My apologies, sir," I said in the Eastern Language, staunching my accent as much as possible. "I was not looking where I was going." Taking a knee, I began to help gather his things back into his clutches.

After muttering a 'thank you,' the man turned back to his business and I made a beeline for Alexander, heart pounding. Even before I was near enough to converse with, I noted the malcontented expression he wore, as if he was sorry to have bore witness such a scene with his own two eyes.

"What the hell was that?" he hissed to me. "That was the worst thing I've ever seen."

"I know, I know," I said, visibly annoyed. But then my scowl turned to a satisfied smile as I held up the three stolen fountain pens I hid in my sleeve and fanned them out before his face. "I just did what you would have done."

He made a grunt in the back of his throat, eyes going flat as he realized I tricked him. "That was not how I taught you, Imperatrix." But he was smiling ever so slightly too.