Sly Cooper 5: Promises Made By Thieves

Chapter 15: Sly

I relatively easily create a good fire pit. There's dried-out wood everywhere, wood that would probably not be that way had this raging river arrived sooner than it has.

I then wonder what I'm going to do about actually lighting it when I hear an uproar in the palace above the hill. I hear what must be guards leaving the palace, looking for someone. I see their torches. My whole life I've been avoiding guys like those. I crouch down and try to just remain still, but it looks like their attention is not directed to me or the river but something else. Whatever it is, it's definitely not me.

I wait for about twenty minutes when they're out of sight. No one really goes back to the palace. Normally, I'd use whatever diversion just happened to steal some stuff or at least scope the place out. But I think right now I need to get just a teensy bit of sleep. The sun will probably be coming up soon.

Accepting I'll have to wait until it's hot again to eat my meal, I hide my fish in the grass beside me and I actually swiftly fall asleep.

I awaken to the blistering heat again, and for a second I'm terrified I'm still in the middle of the desert, forgetting all that happened last night.

I don't know what time it is but it still feels early. I see the tree behind me is only providing shade to a different part of the ground, so I crawl over to lay down there instead. The shade is now under my fire pit. Guess I'll either have to move it or wait longer to have my meal.

Grateful at least that the sleep has made me feel a bit less nervous about everything, I wait until my fire pit is back in the sun, then I use the tip of my cane and angle it between the sun rays and the wood. It takes some effort, the hardest keeping my hands still, shaking from no food for a day, but soon enough I have a fire.

I take a stick and cook the first fish, which I first dip in the water to get some sand off. It's not too long at all before I take my first bite and I love it. When I finish it I have to get out my cane again to get more fire going. The second fish is just about ready when I feel a knife go around my neck, and the fish falls into the fire, completely forgotten.

"Don't make a single move," grunts whoever's behind me. His breath smells like rancid roadkill. I can't form a joke about it. "Stand up."

"Okay, okay..." I then see about ten other guards running from various directions right at me, with half fury, half confusion. The guy behind me grabs my cane, and my heart lurches a little.