Prologue

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Mark scampered quietly over the roof of the enormous flour barn. The soft tap of his stocking feet was easily drowned out by the clanking steps of the armoured guards as they moved along their regular patrol routes below.

The boy grinned, shaking his long bangs out of his eyes as he picked up the pace. A few more warehouse rooves and a drain pipe-slide later he had disappeared into the moonlight soaked fields.

The silver ocean of grain expanded around the testing facilities for many flat miles and served as the perfect cover for those who knew how to move without leaving trails through the wheat.

Now that the hard part was over, Mark let his body settle into a relaxed jog. He still had about an hour to go and needed to conserve the little energy he had left.

The sheaves slid silently by as he wove an untraceable path through the fields. Mark always enjoyed the feeling of wheat on his skin. When he was younger he would often come out to the fields and spend the day just sitting among the stems, hidden away from everyone in the village; no one else dared to trespass on Baron Timo's property. And as a result, he had picked up on a few things, things that the Baron did not want the public to know.

Things that made Mark useful.

Things that made him money.

A sudden rustling made the boy's hair stand on end and he instinctively dropped to the ground. He held his breath as another figure abruptly appeared out of the silver field.

"Don't worry. It's me," a woman's voice whispered.

Mark let out a sigh and hauled himself back to his feet, brushing away the dirt that had stuck to his baggy sweatshirt.

"You're about as quiet as I am. I thought we were supposed to meet under the East Street Bridge?" he smirked at the black silhouette as she shrugged her shoulders.

"I got impatient. Did you get the other half?" her voice held a note of doubt that made Mark puff his chest out in indignation.

"You bet!" he said proudly, slipping his hand into his pants pocket and taking out a single piece of paper, "Hey!"

The woman had snatched the paper away faster than he could react. He'd blinked and missed it.

"Good work," her face shifted and Mark saw her darkly painted lips lift into a smile, "I'm impressed."

The boy swelled under her praise and lowered his face to hide his smirk.

"Well, I'm done here," the woman slid the paper into a pocket of her long, dark coat before reaching out to him, "Thank you for your cooperation, Mark."

He shook her hand, enjoying how soft and warm her skin felt against his own.

"I'm heading out," she said when they stepped apart, "What's the best way to get to the harbour from here?"

Mark's eyes lit up and he nodded.

"Stick to the fields until you get to the main road. Cross it and then follow the path along the western edge of town until the first crossroads and take that left. There's a lot of crates along there that you can use to dodge the night patrol. You gotta time it right though," he said, pointing out the direction she should go.

"You sure that's the safest way?" she asked.

"Yep," Mark popped his lips in emphasis.

"And you're sure the information you got is the real deal?"

"Uh-huh."

The woman paused and glanced at him, but the glow of the moon behind her cast a shadow over her face. She lifted her arm and tossed something through the night.

Mark snatched the object out of the air and smiled when he heard the clink of coins.

"Then I'll be seeing you, kid."

The boy lifted his finger to his forehead in a mock salute.

"See ya, lady," he said as she moved off and disappeared into the fields without a sound.

Mark stayed where he was for a few long minutes, only moving when he was sure he was alone. His hand dove into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a mini transponder snail.

"Hey, you there?" he whispered into the receiver.

"Yes." A voice crackled over the line.

"She's on her way. She should walk right into your hands," Mark smirked.

"Good. You can collect your pay after we've captured the spy."

"Roger that," Mark turned off the snail and returned it to his pocket.

He looked around and frowned. Since the lady had met up with him much earlier than they had planned, instead of being a block from his house, he was a good hour's walk away through the fields.

Why did she meet me here anyway? He let out a sigh as he started the long trudge home, She was pretty strict with the timeline...

Then a sneer twisted his mouth.

It didn't matter. He'd done his part. He'd got her money.

And soon he would get another payday for delivering her right into the hands of the Flour Baron who ruled this island.

Serves her right for trying to steal our secrets.

Mark turned his eyes towards the harbour. She should be there about now. At this distance he could see a few ant-sized figures running along the shore, most likely the Baron's goons getting ready for their ambush.

Mark squinted towards the bay and frowned.

He'd hear the sounds of the struggle from here, he was sure he would. Why was it still so silent?

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Then two things happened at once, both incredibly worrying to the young man.

A sudden explosion rocked the silence of the night and an orange glow intruded on the edges of Mark's vision.

And, perhaps most worrying, the cold touch of metal on the back of his neck sent a jolt down his spine.

*Click*

"I told you I'd be seeing you, kid."

Mark's mouth gaped, gulping for desperately needed air.

"Shit! What are you doing here?!" he tried hard not to let his voice shake.

"Well, I had the feeling you were lying to me so I went back to get what I needed. I may have forgotten that flour was so flammable..." her voice held a tinge of regret.

Mark's eyes widened and he spun around.

The woman didn't lower the gun, pressing it against his forehead as he gazed upon her black silhouette outlined by the angry orange flames that were consuming the barn he had been running across only minutes before.

"You... you bitch!" Mark spat, "That was the largest warehouse! Now the villagers will have to work triple-time to make quota!"

The woman's shoulders rose and fell and she pushed the gun harder against his clammy skin.

Mark's mouth was suddenly dry as a desert.

"Ple-please don't kill me!" he stammered, "I can show you the real safe way out! It was all Baron Timo's plan! He made me betray you!"

The woman let out an angry hiss.

"If there's one thing I hate most in this world," she bent down and her finger tensed around the trigger, "Its liars."

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