For a Year (A Greatest Thief Novella)

Days - Part Two

I hated being in the lower city without Finn. He offered a strange sense of security. He saw things in the crowds that I couldn't see, he walked the streets with his usual easy confidence. He knew the place and the people. With him, I felt like I stood out a little less.

He would be proud of me for not wearing my cloak, I thought as I hovered near the main gate. I couldn't disguise my sword, but at least I wasn't wearing a bright blue marker of my wealth. Although I knew the way to the thieves' home, I decided against showing up unannounced. Waiting near the gate had worked twice, surely it would work again. I leaned back against a wall so no one could come up behind him, and waited.

As I waited, I tried to see the people the way Finn would. After some time of careful observation, I finally started to notice things. There were quite a few children around, and they seemed to work in small groups. One or two would distract someone, while another child would reach into a pocket or bag. They didn't seem to target other Native Zians as much as they targeted visiting sailors. Maybe it was because the people from the lower city knew how to avoid them, or maybe it was some sort of code.

"You're Finn's lord."

I jumped a little, my hand flying instinctively to the hilt of my sword. The older boy who wasn't Baisan was leaning against the wall beside me casually, toying with a little knife in his right hand. It took me a moment to remember his name, and in that time I managed to regain my composure.

"Castin. I need to speak with Baisan."

"About Finn?"

I nodded. "Yes, I need to explain that—"

"Don't tell me," Castin surprised me by interrupting. "If you're going to say that he's dead, I don't want to hear about it until the others do. This way." He started to walk through the crowd and after a moment I followed, one hand still on the hilt of my sword. Castin kept far enough ahead of me to make conversation impossible.

When we finally made it onto a less busy side street, I took a few quick steps to catch up. He shot me a glance before turning back to the street. He was a lot like Finn in the way he looked around. Wary but aware. The biggest difference between them was the way he was handling his knife.

"He isn't dead."

Castin didn't react as if he had heard me, but there was no way he hadn't.

"Castin. He isn't dead."

"Something's happened, and it's your fault," he said sharply. "Nothing ever happened to him before you came along. Being a lord doesn't mean you can just ruin people's lives. But I doubt you care about that. About any of us."

I bit back an angry retort. I wasn't used to being talked to that way, but he was right. "I gave you money," I said more calmly. "I was trying to help."

Castin spun, taking a few steps backwards. "What were you paying him for?"

"I don't follow."

"You were paying him for something. What was it?"

Castin wasn't flipping his knife around in his hand anymore, he was holding it tightly. Even though I had no intention of pulling out my sword, I let go of the pommel, hoping that would put him at ease. "It wasn't anything like that. We're friends, and I wanted to help him. I could spare the money and his family needed it. I was happy to help." He seemed to accept that answer and turned to keep walking. I followed a few paces behind. "Did you all think I was paying him for something?"

Castin didn't reply, and shortly afterwards I saw the familiar, run down building appear in front of us. Instead of stepping through the doorway, he turned around to block my way. "Baisan!" he called over his shoulder.