Little Thief

Chapter 3

Deep breath... focus... find your inner peace, or whatever...

I squared my shoulders, and stared at my designated foe.
The battered leather bag stared back blankly, propped up on the pillow of my borrowed bed.

"So," I said, narrowing my eyes. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Which is it to be?"

The bag didn't move. Ah, so we had a non-talker on our hands, was that it?

"Listen to me very carefully, Signor Bolsa. I was told you held special properties, that you were part of an unusual clan, if you will. That you had the ability to give me anything I required, within reason of course. And yet, you seem to be putting up a resistance, hm? For the past two days, I have requested and you have remained noticeably empty. What do you have to say in your defence, Signor Bolsa?"

The rocking of the ship made the stupid bag bob up and down in my eyeline, infuriatingly nauseating. The leather strap slumped down, but again, I was given the silent treatment.

"Oh come on!" I whined, refraining from stamping my feet like a toddler. "Give me something to work with! Two days, two days I've been stuck without soap or a toothbrush or just even a nice bottle of water, and you're giving me nothing! Why can't you be like Dora the Explorer's bag, he always sang a little song."

I threw myself onto the bed, defeated. I was getting pretty close to running out of ideas, which never happened to me. I always managed to think of at least something different to try in the face of adversity, and the stupid book bag had left me stuck. 

At least it was very in keeping with traditional Greek mythological epics; the gods (or titans) gave you a magic item for it to either take ages to figure out how to work or to bring you to your natural demise. I was just eager to stay away from the latter.

It wasn't like it came with any instructions, and Atlas had chosen not to indulge me with such information. 

I had tried asking it nicely. I had tried demanding it to work. I had tried asking it in my mind (just in case it was psychic, you never know). I had tried writing down what I wanted on a piece of paper and feeding it the bag like a light snack.

Nothing had worked.

"Fat load of use you're being, Signor Bolsa," I mumbled to it, turning over in my bed.

It had been a pretty uneventful few days aboard the large ship, the Dauntless everyone called it. After a dreamless sleep the day I had been brought aboard, I had tried coming up to the deck for lack of anything else to do. Everyone avoided me like the plague, not even meeting my eyes most of the time and just staring at the floor. 

Eventually, I managed to wheedle out of one of the more seasoned sailors what the big deal was.

"Aye, they say it's bad luck to have a woman on board, miss," he had said, his mouth a grim line as he sucked on a pipe. "And one with red hair, well..."

Ah yes, of course, how could I forget? My biggest crime was having tits. And my hair was more of a dark auburn, if we were to be pedantic.

"Seriously?" I had asked flatly. Around us, all the soldiers scurried away if I caught them looking at us, not unlike skittish ants.

"Mm," he agreed. "Although, I would wager your lack of proper attire might be another cause. Hardly your fault at all, miss, but I should think the army lads know better than to stare at a lady dressed in breeches."

So I had more or less stayed in my cabin the rest of the trip, unless my stomach really protested with the bobbing of the ship.

My review so far? 1724 was boring. ADHD did not help the matter.