The Powerless by Lauren Robert

part 2

I feel the weight of the dagger tucked into my boot and relax at th ecomfort of  the  cool  steel as  I  pass  groups of  fellow homeless   for  the  night.

I  can  see  the  faint shimmer of  purple  forcefieldsshielding some, while others don’t even have an ability strong enough  to allow them to sleep peacefully, which is the exact reason they call the slumstheir home.

I keep my steps swift and sure as my eyes sweep back and forth across the alleys, never letting my guard down. The poor don’t discriminate.

Ashilling is a shilling, and they don’t care if they jump someone worse offthan them to get it.Several guards cross my path as I zigzag down streets, forcing me to slow down to steer clear of them. Every shop, corner, and street has beenbestowed the gift of leering, white-uniformed law enforcers.

These brutalImperials have been stationed everywhere along Loot Alley by decree of the king due to an increase in crime.Clearly has nothing to do with me.
I  slip  down a  smaller alley,  making my  way  towards the  dead  end.There, tucked in  the  corner,  is  a  mangled barricade of  broken merchant cards, cardboard, old sheets, and Plague knows what else. Before I’m evenhalfway to  the  pile  of  garbage we  call  home, a  face  obscured by  wildshoulder-length curls pops up over the Fort.
“Did you get it!?”Untangling her long legs from where she sits, she effortlessly stands andphases right through the  three-foot wall  of  our  trash barricade  without asecond thought, and then she’s bounding toward me with so much hope inher eyes that you’d think I’ve offered her a real roof over her head and awarm meal.
And though I can give her neither of those things, I do   far better in her   “I’m offended you doubted me, Adena.

I thought you’d have a little more faith in my abilities after all these years.” I sling my pack frommy back and pull out the crumpled red silk from within, unable to suppressmy smile as a look of awe settles on her face.She greedily claws the silk from my hands, running her fingers throughthe soft folds of the fabric.

Peeking up through the curly bangs hanging inher hazel eyes, she looks at me as though I’ve just singlehandedly   rather than steal fabric from a woman not much better off than we are.

Like F'm the hero and not the villain
Adena's smile could rival the sun over the Scorches desert. "Pac, you
and you sticky fingers work magic, you know that?
She throws her arms around my neck, pulling me into a crushing
embrace that causes more honey to ooze down my vest and pool in my
pockets.
"Speaking of sticky fingers .." I peel myself from her hug to fish
around in my pockets. I retricve six smashed sticky buns, only slightly
unappetizing with the hay now decorating them
Adena's eyes go wide at the sight before snatching one from my hand
just greedilv as she did the fabric. She turns mid-bite and strides right
as
back through our fort without a second thought, plopping herself down on
the colorless, rough rugs that lax
the inside of the barricade. She pats the
on
spot besidc her expectantly, and unlikc her, 1 ungracefuilly lcap over the wall
before I can take a scat
"1 bet Maria wasn't too happy about her shop being looted. A gain. Poor
thing should really up her security,." Adena says between bites. a crooked
a
smile ioining the crumbs on her face
Despite my robbing the woman at least once a month for the past
several ycars, she's still only managed to conclude that 1 am a he, At lcast,
she's trying,
"Actally." I say with a shrug, "she had two more Imperials stationed
I
around her shop than normal. She muet he getting tired of all the stollen
stickv huns over the years.
Adena narrows her hazel eves at the sight of my smile "Thank tho
Plague you didn't get caught, Pac." As soon as the familiar phrase slips past
her lips, my jaw sets instinctively while hers falls open mid-bite. she
visibly cringes, her brow crinkling and throat clearing, "Sorry. Bad habit.
My fingers drifit to the thick ring on my thumb, spinning it mindlessly
while Imuster a weak smile This topic is one we typically try to avoid
though it's my fault the subject became suddenly awkward to speak of in
the first place
All due to a moment of weakness that I wish I wasn't so relieved about
"You know it's not the words that bother me. It's
"1's the mcanin g bchind them she cuts in with a smile and a
shockingly accurate imitation of my voice
I ncarly choke on my laugh and a piece of sweet dough. Are you