Days of the Dead Book 1: The Thief's End

Chapter 2: Yes, this is my daily routine

Kit
I make it through the school day, just. Classes are miserable, but I sit in the back and draw in my notebooks and do the bare minimum. I really don't see a point in focusing at school when, and I've done the math, there is a 80% likelihood I'll be stabbed any given week. It's just not my top priority.
So I avoid people, and I am tempted to use some of the twenty I got from Aster for lunch. But I don't. The car needs gas and my mother needs soap. I went in her shower last night she was using bar soap she takes from work.
School ends, and I pack up my assignments and leave. I'm walking home. It's four miles but who cares? Right? I mean clearly no one. I only went missing in the swamp that once and lost my voice.  There's been remarkably few precautions. Like, I realize why it happened and I know that will not be reproduced. But. Nobody else knows that I could have been kidnapped. Well. I was kidnapped. However.
I walk to the Winn Dixie first. My father used to work here. So they like me for whatever reason. Those two things don't go together but whatever.
I get a jar of peanut butter, a loaf of bread, and I find the pretty pink dove soap my mom likes, and a bottle of shampoo. It's quiet in here this time of day. Not a lot of people. No real cameras.
I slip a bar of chocolate into my pocket, as well as tube of bug bite lotion. My slight of hand has been perfected over the last five years. At this point I don't even need magic to pick pockets or shoplift the odd necessity.
I go to check out. The girl at the register used to babysit me when I was little. Billie Mae Clark, she's not bad. About seven or so years my senior, dating a guy who works at the car shop.
"How are you doin' this afternoon Kit Wren? Your mamma doin' good?" She asks.
I nod, smiling. She's one of the few people who talks to me normally and recognizes I can hear just fine.
"Good, stay cool. It's so hot still. I'm sick of summer," she sighs, as she cashes me out.
I set the movie tickets on the counter, pushing them over.
"What? These for me?" She asks.
I nod.
"Where'd you get 'em? School? You win 'em or something?" She asks.
I nod the affirmative, shrugging a little, and pointing towards my mom's work.
"Oh your mamma gonna be working?"
I nod.
"Well thank you," she smiles, as she bags up my groceries, "Take care now you hear?"
I nod, taking the paper sack, eager to get the melting chocolate bar out of my pocket.
I walk back out into the blistering summer heat, pocketing my change withdrawing my treat. I eat the half melted chocolate, licking the wrapper free of any last bite of candy. Then I drop the bug bite lotion into the shopping bag, crumpling up the receipt and tossing it to the side of the road. Can't have my mother notice my crimes. That wouldn't do at all.
I walk the rest of the way back home alone with my own thoughts. I've got a new adventure tonight but, I'm also hungry. And not for a peanut butter sandwich. And I'm not eating what my mom left in the fridge. That's her lunch tomorrow and no dinner tonight.
Our dingy green trailer sits at the end of the park. A couple of dogs bark at me but nothing major. A few neighbors out smoking but they don't call to me, why when I can't speak?
I let myself in, making a mental note to get a better lock. Not that we have anything worth stealing but my mother is home alone most nights. I don't know if a better lock would help I realize we need a better house. Someday. Maybe. Maybe someday.
I set the groceries on the counter, finding the back of an envelope to write a note on, Got paid for tutoring. Buy some gas! Ate at school. Turned in early.—Kit (because so many other people leave notes for you)
There that's that done. I go into my room and set up my fake Kit. A pair of jeans and sweatshirt stuffed with old clothes and hidden under the blankets. That way if she peaks in, I appear to be asleep. No, I'm not claiming to be good at this. Once or twice she's found out I'm gone, only for me to show up hours later, beaten half to death, exhausted, with stolen stuff I'm desperately trying to hide, while she sobs. By some miracle I actually convinced her both times that I was off visiting friends and didn't mean to worry her. No, I don't know how I did it either, and I do not look like someone who has friends.
Then I'm set. I close the door and block it a little. I'm hungry and I'm tired. I'm not going on my new adventure without a decent snack. And honestly I don't even feel like a good adventure at all at the moment. I've been good lately doesn't a little thief get a little tiny vacation?
I'm saying I do. My master can be cross about that if he likes. Later on. Not now. Now I deserve some fun. I take off my shirt, and kick off my jeans, sorting under the bed for my black pants and shirt. I'm wearing the only boots I have. And then I put on a white cloak.
I take off my necklace, sorting through the various rings. I know each one by heart. In the dark I feel them, pressed against my skin. A million different adventures, dozens of different lands. Each a new beginning.
I take my favorite off the end. It's got little plunder, but I use it as a home base of sorts. I'm generally safe, and I can usually get food with no questions really asked, it's a good place to go if I've got nowhere else and now and then I can steal the odd trinket.
I slide the ring on my pinkie, and feel the usual, familiar, rush of magic.
And then I'm falling to the stone floor of some castle. I do not know what it's called or anything nobody's very coherent here that's why I love them.
I can hear the clamp of boots on the stone floor, and I roll to my feet expertly. Seven years of ballet and gymnastics while the entirety of the town laughed at me paid off when I became a professional inter-dimensional burglar. Who's laughing now? Well not me because I have no voice but metaphorically it's me.
"Kit! Where've you been keeping yourself! Come, we've got to run!" Now this is a very strange person. This person has in all the time I've known him not once been doing what he was meant to. He's like eleven, looks like he's eight, and is a force of pure unrestrained chaos. For no apparent reason, despite having no self-control or critical thinking, he's also always the leader of whatever friend group he's in. The boy grins at the sight of me, skipping a little. He's in simple clothes, messy dishwater blonde hair that's limp in the summer heat and grey blue eyes. He's never not smiling and is perpetually pleased if only with himself. He gestures the appropriate direction for us to flee and I follow. I couldn't question why even if I wanted to at the moment. I also probably don't want to know.
We run down another corridor, and dart past some servants or like, I don't know other people who live here? Like maybe it's an apartment complex type of castle? They had those right? Anyway we nearly run into people who are not at all surprised at the chaos that radiates from this kid. I'm not saying his name 'cause I don't know they call him like three different names maybe it's the names of all of his personalities.
"Come on! This way!" He grabs my arm and drags me the opposite way of where we'd been going, hauling me into some side passage and slamming a door.
"There," he pants, putting his hand through his hair, "What are you up to?
I shrug.
"Then come with me! We're off for some fun," he says, without giving me a moment to respond, leads me out a door and into a stinking alley. 
"Adam! Look who I've found, Kit was lying about, he wants to join us," the boy says, towing me by the arm. I'm relieved to see the rest of his party, another couple of boys, one older than me, one maybe six or seven. The older, Adam, is a decent guy. I like him, he's a sorcerer so he'll help me with magic now and again, and he's good for messing around and finding food, doesn't mind that I don't talk.
"Took you long enough, hello Kit," Adam smiles warmly. He's darker complexioned than the other two, with brown eyes and hair. He calls the little harbinger of chaos Ed, and then the smallest is called Johnny. I think they're all brothers, or something like that? It's not been made clear but they generally act like brothers and will hang about like this. Maybe step siblings as the oldest doesn't look so much like the other two who are both fair haired and blue eyed.
I nod, smiling, and motioning that I'm here for food.
"Let's go! Before they come looking," Ed sighs, stroking his hair out of his face.
"Did you run away again?" The little one asks.
"Ed," Adam sighs, complacently though. He's not gonna like, stop him. Like I said, Ed, the one with none of the brain cells, is somehow in charge.
"It was Latin tutors! I was bored it's too fine a day to study, and I want to go visit father," Ed bounces, "Come on, we'll be caught."
"Going," Adam laughs, moving finally as we progress to the busy street. No cars here, just horses sometimes, and right now it's just packed with people. The heat is oppressive and the stench nearly unbearable.
"Have you seen our father today? Where do you think he is?" Ed asks, taking his little brother's arm.
"Down by the Thames I'd expect with this fine weather, you're as bad as the other," Adam says, tolerantly as he shoulders his way through the thickening crowd.  I think their father is like some sort of boatman or something? I don't know I've seen him once or twice when the boys went to find him down by the docks. They seem to have some money and respect so like maybe the father owns the docks? I don't really know.
It's the heat of the day. And we're quickly in the crowded district. Street vendors, merchants, pedestrians trying to make their way home. The two littler boys dart ahead, laughing, the older holding his little brother's hand lest he lose him in the street.
As usual my better nature is taking a leave of absence, and I pick a few pockets. Just enough crowns to get myself some dinner. I'm starving.
I motion to Adam that I'm getting food. He's not a bad guy. He usually pays attention to my hand gestures and like I said he'll help me out with some magic stuff now and then if I've, I don't know, gotten my little gay hand caught in some sort of box I was trying to rob. As a purely random example of something that definitely happened. More than once.
"Yeah all right—oi, Ed, come on lets get something to eat you probably haven't eaten since breakfast," Adam calls, the other two are already up ahead gawking over the river.
"Look! We saw a severed head in the water!" Ed calls, climbing halfway up a cart to look, "The ravens had plucked its eyes out."
"I'm happy for you—? Come on, did you two eat lunch or were you too busy sulking?"
"Second thing," Ed hops off the cart amiably, "Can we have pies?"
"Remind me why I'm buying you treats again?" Adam asks, cuffing his little brother's shoulder.
"Because you love me? As everyone should," the little scrap says, spinning around.
"We didn't have lunch because mother got us a new Latin tutor," Johnny sighs, rubbing his face with his wrist.
"Come on then," Adam says, tolerantly. He leads us to street vender, selling hot greasy pies, in the most unsanitary conditions known to man. I'm going to catch a horrible disease one of these days that is if I don't just die doing what I do on a daily basis which is robbing the rich and powerful.
I procure my pie, hot, dripping with fat, and full of mystery meat. I'm not even questioning it I'm sure I've eaten worse. I'm starving after my long afternoon and nothing since the cafeteria lunch. I don't know what excuse the boys have but they dig in equally quickly. And no, this doesn't stop Ed from talking.
"I heard there's a joust on Saturday, d'you want to go? By which I mean you're taking me, by royal command," Ed says, pointing at his older brother.
"No—mate—don't do this to us—again—like no. I don't care if you love it, it's illegal," Adam groans. Jousting is like, illegal for them they've had this argument before. Apparently human nature prevails and people still do it now and then. Naturally the small ones still perpetually want to do it.
"Well, you technically have to do what I say. So I'm invoking my privilege. I'll be able to compete in a few years," Ed says, happily, "So I will. Because no one can stop me."
"Remind me to become permanently intoxicated as soon as he comes of age?" Adam says, so tiredly, as the two younger ones immediately start talking about jousting and how they want to do it. I mean it sounds fun I'm not going to lie; it also sounds really, really dangerous.
I smile and pat his back.
"You're right, what makes me think that we're gonna live that long," Adam mutters.
"Bet Hugh would take me. Bet Hugh's gonna try to go as well," Ed says, darting back to go leer at the water looking for severed heads. I don't know if I've made it perfectly clear, but I think this person might not be safe to be out.
"Yeah well, Hugh wouldn't know a good idea if it walked up and punched him in the face so, you know, low bar—he's one of our dad's friends, try not to talk to him. He's not a bad sort but he hasn't heard of a bribe he doesn't want to take or a blackmail scheme he doesn't want to be involved in," Adam elaborates for me.
I don't know what he's talking about sounds like a great sort of guy to me.
"That's actually completely accurate. I mean we can't trust him, but entertaining as hell. I've developed half my sense of humor due to that man. My uncle says he's the reason he's gone grey," Ed says, with his mouthful, unaware that barely made any sense.
"Mum hates him," Johnny elaborates.
"Mother hates everyone Johnny, including us, it's like her key personality trait—come on I think I saw another head," Ed tugs his little brothers arm and they dart off through the crowd.
"Gonna be the death of me those two," Adam shakes his head.
I nod.
"Well, you could give me hope," he laughs, as we hurry to catch up.
The boys stopped at one point on the bank of the river, looking out at the putrid water. In the past they've said this is London which would fit I suppose they all have British accents I guess. So I guess we're in Europe or some form of it? I don't really know. Nobody's showed me a map or thought to explain it logically they just have occasionally informative arguments.
"Look, there you see it, Johnny? That's a head all right," Ed leans down to point for his younger brother.
"Don't we burn people alive?" Johnny asks, frowning. Now is as good a time as any to point Johnny is probably a sadist. Like, I know I exaggerate but like really. I found him burning rats once.
"I wouldn't know. Father won't let me go to any executions," Ed says, annoyed. I have no idea if other people in this, whatever, universe, think as much about killing people as these kids do. I mean maybe; they don't appear to have television or anything.
"Yeah, that's because, you don't actually need to go, or be involved in that, you should do your lessons, don't make me remember why I should be returning you to your tutors," Adam says, shaking the boys' shoulders, "Now come on. We were finding your father weren't we?"
"You just trying to get rid of us Adam? Think we'll get murdered or something?" Ed asks, laughing, "You're not any fun if you won't let me do as I please."
"No, don't do this—Ed I've just eaten I don't—," Adam groans.
The other two boys take off into the crowd, bolting and almost immediately disappearing from view.
Adam and I groan simultaneously and then follow them.
"You get the little one," Adam grunts, veering off in one direction.
I go in the other. I don't actually know why we follow them and actively try to get them back. But Adam's my friend and so I suppose he'd get in trouble or something if he lost them permanently. I don't see who would blame him, not if they'd met the children. But it's important to him the hellions are preserved so I generally help out.
I break into a sprint, my feet pounding the cobblestones. I see the little boy ducking in and out of the crowd, but he's rapidly losing me. He knows I'm behind him.
Time to change that up.
I run up a wall, using magic to support me, and leap onto a tile roof. Much quicker up here, no one else runs on roof tops I don't see why. Cool as hell and much easier than ducking in and out of the madding crowds.
I leap to the next roof, keeping the boy in my sights. He doesn't spy me up here. Not yet. Always look up.
My roof ends and I'm forced to summer salt back to the main drag, narrowly avoiding a set of horses.
Then we're back darting through the crowd, I jump into the air and use one of the street stalls to flip onto another roof, gaining the high ground and flipping down in front of the fleeing villainous child.
I spread arms out, smirking in a general "I win again" sort of way.
"Not again, Kit, no fair you use magic," Johnny sighs.
Then some horrible deranged monster tackles me from behind, knife to my throat, "But he looses because he took the time to gloat," Ed kneels on my chest, knife pressed to my throat. I am mentally calculating the odds of being able to flip him off and him actually going through with stabbing me. I'm not liking what I get.
"Jesus, Ed, we talked about not drawing knives on people," Adam scoops his brother off of me, knife and all.
"Why? It's a great way to make friends," Ed laughs, sheathing his knife. I flip him off, a gesture that he doesn't full understand but takes negatively, which is the goal.
"No, not with normal people, we're lucky Kit puts up with you lot," Adam sighs, tolerantly all the same, "You all right, Kit?"
"He's fine," Ed says.
I nod, brushing off my robes delicately. I'm more annoyed that the rascal got the better of me. He's right I should never have turned my back not knowing where his little criminal self might be lurking. 
"See? He's fine we're having fun," Ed groans, tugging on my arm, "Come on Kit. You know I wouldn't cut you unless I really felt like it."
I stick my tongue out at him.
"Aye, that's what I'd cut as well," Ed giggles, "Nothing you might use."
"Johnny, stop laughing, what've we said about validating your brother when he's talking about cutting people up?" Adam says, taking his brother's shoulders.
"It's a joke, Adam," Ed rolls his eyes.
"Aye, do the pages think you're funny?"
"They're like, required to, so yes. A couple are really laughing though. They should, I'm hilarious," Ed says, falling into pace with us complacently. The kid has an ego the size of the Pacific Ocean, in case it wasn't already completely obvious.
"Just what we need, eh Kit? More gang members?" Adam asks me.
I shrug a little, smiling.
"Yeah no we don't, don't look at me like that; it doesn't mean more people to chase after him," Adam laughs, punching my shoulder.
"D'you know, I think if you were first born, Adam, I think I'd just become a pirate. Or I'd go find another throne, I don't think I'd take yours. I might though. I don't think so though because then you could help me invade someplace else. Everyone says father should invade  Scotland, maybe I'd do that," Ed says, almost skipping, chewing on a fingernail he broke during our merry little chase. I guess we're near Scotland. I thought that was an island though?
"Please, tell us more thoughts running through your head. They help us sleep better at night, not the opposite," Adam says, dryly.
"I just want a sword," Johnny says.
"Well you can have a sword. I really think we both should get to go jousting but people who don't want us to be happy are against that—,"
"Words cannot express how tiny you are! You're literally too little, we'll see when you're bigger," Adam sighs.
"Really!?" Ed, perfectly happy, "But you would go with me? 'Cause I can go on my own but it'd be more fun—,"
"Yeah we'll see in a year, or seven," Adam cautions, holding up a hand to indicate a necessary height, as the littler boys bounce with glee.
Jousting is apparently very important to them, and both boys begin talking about it animatedly. Adam and I are not required for additional input, so we mostly just make sure they don't run off again. Adam rolls his eyes a little at them.
I don't actually fully know what jousting is.
"Have you ever been? Jousting?" Adam asks me.
I shake my head, shrugging a little.
"You don't know—you don't know what it is? It's a sport—that we do not participate in," he glares a little at the boys who are still arguing rapidly about it.
I nod, shrugging a little.
"Yeah there hasn't been, a legal, match in ages. Our father's against it," he shrugs. I mean if it's illegal it would make sense he didn't want the kids doing it. "Same as football."
"That doesn't involve enough swords!" Johnny says.
"Doesn't involve any swords! It's all shoving, and pushing, it's boring," Ed says.
"Yeah, I mean I saw one once, in France, a joust. I didn't participate because you know, I'm not them," he says, "You're not missing anything."
I nod. I'm probably missing a lot, but I'm going to choose not to worry about it.
We find their father eventually, at one of the docks along the river. Now their father, as I said, I've met him twice before. And every single time I've seen him, he's with about three or four, equally good looking, men of about his age, all just following him around, all equally well dressed for this world. And every time we've come upon him he's chatting with a group of sweaty, strapping boatmen. The point I'm trying to make is I have no idea what's going on here, but I do know this man has my utmost respect and has life figured out far more than I probably ever will.
He himself is not bad looking, late thirties or late forties? Maybe twenties? Something like that, rich blonde hair that's a bit curly, he has a beard but it's trimmed, and kind blue eyes. He's usually smiling as he speaks with his assorted companions, though today he doesn't smile till he lays eyes on his boys. The two younger ones look most like him, though from what I can tell the oldest is most like him in personality.
"What are you two doing here?" He laughs, catching both younger boys in a hug and pinning one in either arm.
Adam and I hang back.
"Fancied a walk," Ed laughs, clearly pleased with his father's attention.
"Without letting anybody know I expect? Teddy, you know it's going to disrupt everyone if you just disappear," his father says, shaking the boy, but with obvious affection. See what I mean about them calling him different names? I don't know maybe they're unlocking personalities?
"Oh, everyone knew I left," Ed says, very pleasantly, for someone who definitely escaped custody of whatever minders he's supposed to have. As I say it there's the definite possibly this is all some sort of asylum place and this isn't their dad it's just like, the warden and he's nice when they breach containment. Like that could really be happening.
"We wanted to visit, I don't like the tutors," Johnny mumbles.
"Don't like your tutors or doing your lesson?"
"Second one."
"I thought as much," he says, giving them both a squeeze again, then looking up at us, "Thank you, Adam, for minding them."
"We don't need minding!"
"No, we don't!"
"Thank you for keeping an eye on them. We won't keep you boys from your day any further," their father says, taking a couple of coins from his pocket, and handing them to Adam, "I'll see them home."
"Thank you," Adam nods respectfully and I follow suit.
"Why can't I stay with you? I should for the day," Ed says, pleasantly.
"Because you've skipped your lessons? Which are important, and your mother probably got word you escaped, again, and she'll be worrying about you being kidnapped," his father says, making the erroneous assumption anyone but him would want these particularly children. "Now go with Oliver, both of you." One of his pretty entourage steps forward to join the boys.
"My lords," Adam bows and then we make our exit. I glance back quickly. Not a hint of malice, the man is chastising the escapees a bit, but nothing serious, no sign of a lashing. Maybe he is like the mayor or something and takes all the kids in? He looks like the youngest boy the most but not significantly.
"They're fine—he's not gonna be mad," Adam says, checking my expression.
I raise my eyebrows, surprised my thoughts were that obvious.
"Yeah, you jump like a stray dog—don't, I've noticed that's all. Lot of the boys were like that, when we were pages. Like. Anyway, our father's not one of those, I've seen him drunk a few times he didn't get nasty then either," Adam says.
I shrug a bit, good for him.
"Your old man still around?"
I shake my head no.
"Better off eh?" He asks, patting my back.
I killed him. So yes. I nod.
"What about that drink?" He asks, holding up the coins, "Come on, you look like hell, and it's by Royal command." They use that joke, it must be an in joke or something anytime one of them wants to do something or whatever it's by royal command. I don't know maybe this is what families are like.
I shrug. I should be working. I should really be finding more plunder for my master. But I also would like that drink. A drink and fried potatoes in some form, and I can let the alcohol ease my aching muscles. And Adam isn't a bad friend. In fact, he's one of my better ones. Seriously.
He leads us to a little bar, where they know him. He pays for a couple of huge cups of beer. It's like beer it's very thick and nutty with some like, bubbles to it I guess. It's not bad whatever it is and I'll be light headed enough not to care about things.
"Go on, what's troubling you?" He asks, as we sit down at the bar.
I gesture to my mouth sassily.
"Yeah, I noticed. I also noticed you've looked miserable all day. What's going on? Girl troubles?" He asks.
I glare at him.
"Boy troubles?" He laughs.
I nod.
"Someone you like doesn't like you back?"
I shake my head no, taking a sip. With the pie on my stomach it doesn't go right to my head, but it's close.
"Someone you like doesn't want to like you back?" He asks.
I nod, pointing a finger gun at him.
"I'm sorry. It's rough, I don't—know your social circle whatever. Nobody much cares what I do but—obviously people talk, your age shouldn't be too bad though," he frowns, a little.
I roll my eyes a little.
"Ah, sorry, if it helps you can write it out—?" He offers.
I shake my head no. Nothing helps. Getting my voice back would be a start but I'm sick of always doing that as well. I'm forever working towards something. And I'm not seeing any reward, ever. I'm just tired. I want to have fun but I don't know how I'm supposed to do that when I'm stuck without a voice.
I feel bad. I'm a poor friend but I don't know what to do about that either.
I shake my head, biting my lip and forcing a smile.
"You don't have to be okay you know. Whatever you've got going on, I know you're a wizard so it's all complicated and whatever but, I know I'm just a sorcerer and I'm not even a good one but, I'm here to help," he says.
I nod, smiling. There's nothing he can do. Not when I don't know how to help myself.
The beer doesn't help my melancholy mood, but it does make me forget what exactly I'm melancholy about. It fills my gut as well, which helps. We finish our drinks and get pies halfway through. That soaks up enough of the alcohol that I'm steady on my legs when we leave. I have work to do tonight. Like it or not.
We say our goodbyes, well, he says goodbye and I make the appropriate hand gestures. Then I slip off to depart.
I make my way up to a rooftop, and stare off at the sunset, fiddling with my amulets.
High time I got on with thieving. My master will be calling expecting more treasure and right now I have nothing. This was all for pleasure.  I sigh. I really don't want to go to most of my old haunts and I'm not overly interested in tumbling into the unknown with the new amulet. I mean, I could, but I don't know where I'm going it could be nothing at all I really should focus on finding something. But most of my old haunts are dried up or I don't actually know where'd acquire treasure as I've already robbed them a few times. I know where some good treasure is, but it's occupied, at the moment, so to speak. But it is treasure. I sigh, sliding on a thick, iron ring.
And this brings us to, the idiots in the cave.