The bird caught in a mouse trap

Chapter two

Ariabella

I stood in the shadows, hidden in the crack between two towering buildings, staring out at the bustling city. I groaned, pulling at the collar around my neck, trying to relieve myself from this discomfort, but it did nothing. Sweat rolled down my back in big droplets. It was mid-summer and I felt like a chicken left out on the grill for a little too long. Any longer and I'll collapse from sunstroke. I want this done quickly because I know Rozalee doesn't like to wait, and she has a temper on her that could match the Gods' themselves.

My eyes sweep through the crowd, trying to find Tucker. He'd told me ten minutes ago to 'wait for his big sign' before he'd sunken back into the crowd and disappeared into the shadows. I tell myself to wait five more minutes before moving, sign or no sign. A job is a job, and I expect to be going home with a bag full of gold coins swinging at my hips by the time the sun hits the horizon.

I tap my foot impatiently, biting back the comments that are rising in me for when I see Tucker again. Gods' help his soul because when I'm done with him he'll be hanging from Friar's Bridge in his underwear. I sigh, distracting myself by fidgeting with the rings on my fingers, twisting the gold around my forefinger. Suddenly, a high shriek breaks through the noise of the market, and it is silent for a moment, save for the squawking of chickens. I grin as I step out of the alleyway and into the market.

I catch a sight of him hiding behind a few crates, the hood of his cloak hiding all but a stray curl of his fire-red hair. I smile, unable to help myself. To the commoners, he's well hidden in the shadows. Yet to me, I could always spot him, with his fiery red hair and green eyes the colour of pine trees. As children we used to run through the Capital, hiding in alleyways and behind barrels trying to see how long it would take the other to find us. I always won, of course. But occasionally, he would sneak up behind me and scare the living life out of me. I smile at the sudden memory.

Slowly, I make my way towards him, sliding and swerving in between the crowd. My hands have a mind of their own and creep into pockets and shawls and pouches, seeking anything that looks like it would get me a pretty coin. That was another game we played, to see who got the most valuables at the end of every job.

Tucker darts behind another barrel, dagger suddenly in hand and begins sawing away at a rope near him. Mischievousness gleams in his eyes like a bright star, and only deepens when the rope snaps free and a dozen barrels of goods come crashing down. He laughs, carefree and happy as a merchant snapped around, ire on his features, scanning the crowd, trying to find who is responsible. Yet, he'll never find Tucker. Within a second he'd disappeared and reappeared by my side.

'You found him yet?' He asked, folding back the strand of hair that never seems to sit down.

I nod, my eyes trained on a man across from us. 'There.'

Tucker follows my gaze. We watch the man. He's standing at a market stall, fingering the flower petals as a diversion to chat up the pretty lady that works there. Given the frown on her rouge lips and annoyance on her features, it doesn't seem to be working. The man is Wesley Bass, formerly known as Rozalee's rat. Though I know that he was much more to her than that.

Rozalee Caleron is an information broker in the Empire's Capital, Oraira. Though many of the dodgy organisations don't necessarily recognise her as being a 'threat', I believe they're a bigger fool to underestimate her. She's a prideful woman who takes children in from the streets that have nowhere to go and raises them to be her eyes and ears. I was only eight years old when she found me, and Tucker was even younger. Some find him quite odd, but I find I quite like his crooked nose and lopsided smile pleasant. He's been by my side ever since Rozalee took me in. I wouldn't call Rozalee dangerous, but I would refrain from being on her bad side. She knows everyone and every little dirty secret in the Empire. People often make the mistake of betraying her, then all she has to do is send her little mice out into the city with whispers of their misdoings, and not long later they'll find themselves with a pistol pointed at their head or a dagger in their gut.