Flawed Gemstone

Consequences of Greed

A shout of horror woke Grumpy up, and he sat up with a gasp, his eyes searching the room. He froze. The wrappings of the brothers' treasures were spread across the room, but the items themselves were nowhere to be seen. Doc was sitting up at the end of the bed, his face ashen. The others were scrambling out of the beds, searching the room.

Grumpy's mouth was dry as he gazed at the rest of the room. It was untouched. A flex of his magic proved that the protection was still around the room. Nobody else had come in. Desperately, he tried to remember the night before, and a sharp sense of greed came over him. Horror washed through him, and he began to shake. No. Not again. Not their treasures. But his memory was coming back. He had gotten them out, touched them, looked at them shining in the moonlight. And then what? A flash of a face, a black market dealer, the treasures changing hands...

Heart pounding, Grumpy surged up and got dressed in record time. The brothers were still searching, and they had found the jewelry they'd made, proving that a thief hadn't gotten in or they would have taken those items, too. Grumpy felt sick as he bolted out the door, rage and despair fighting inside of him as he darted outside. He looked around, spotted a thief going around a corner down the street, and bolted after him. The thief quickly figured out he was being pursued, but Grumpy wasn't a guard. He was a thief, too. Within a minute, he'd pinned the thief down, his chest heaving. He looked frightened.

"Where's the den?" he demanded.

The thief blinked, not having expected that question. "What?"

"The den! The den! Where Calida has shacked us up!"

The thief was shocked, and Grumpy realized that this boy was the same thief he'd given money to the day before. Grumpy fumbled at his belt and pulled out some money.

"Take me there! Now!" he begged, shoving the money into the boy's hands.

The boy gazed in astonishment at the not-inconsiderable sum, and he nodded and stood up. Grumpy fell into step beside him, and the boy quickly pocketed the money and strode along. They looked casual, but Grumpy was impatient.

"What's yer name?" Grumpy finally asked.

"Zander," the boy replied. "Yours?"

"Grumpy."

The boy snorted and looked away. "No kidding?"

Grumpy flushed, but fondness for his name won out. "Yep. So?"

"Never heard of you. But the older boys said you're a high-ranking member."

Grumpy huffed. "Humans call me Ivan."

"Ah. Him I've heard of." Zander eyed him curiously. Grumpy ignored him.

"They bet ya wouldn't steal from me, eh?"

Zander looked away. "Yeah..."

"Dumb a them."

"Yeah." After a pause, Zander glanced at him. "Why did you give me money yesterday?"

Grumpy shrugged. "I knows what it is ta be hungry."

"Nobody's ever given me money before," Zander continued.

"Mmhm."

Zander studied Grumpy as they walked along. He was uneasy and upset, glancing around and fidgeting like he wanted to bolt. As the city changed from bright cleanliness to less friendly, shady dimness, Grumpy could feel other thieves looking at him. He didn't care. He had to get back the treasures, even if it meant giving up himself. At last, they got to a run-down inn, and Zander pointed.

"That's it. Large secret basement."

"Get outta here, kid," Grumpy said, flexing his fingers. Green sparks flew from his fingertips.