The Thief King

34 | A Child's Bargain

There's something to be said about tears and their persistence. How could something as small as a dew drop and light as a feather be stronger than a person's will? It took will power to fight the shivers on an icy night, or to battle with fatigue threatening to sweep a girl off her feet. Yet tears persisted through whatever dams a person put up. Hard as Sera tried pulling them back, her eyes refused to dry, refused to cease tearing up, refused to stop reminding her of words she would rather forget.

She placed a hand over her face and gently wiped under her eyes with the heel of her hand. Thankfully Hannah had not noticed. The ten year old still sat hunched over her sketchbook, pink tongue peeping through her lips as her charcoal scratched across the parchment. Her blue eyes darted up every so often, studied her prey, then dropped again to the sketch. Small fingers guided her weapon, trailed it along the parchment, smoothed down its marks. Her head was slightly tilted and would change its angle with every new stroke. Koltin had the same habit.

Sera dropped her hands, sniffing softly. Her eyes had to be bloodshot, she wondered if Hannah had noticed and chosen not to say anything. The girl had barely said a word since Sera picked her up from Magada's, which made her wonder what transgressions the mischievous fiend had involved herself with. There was no doubt Hannah and Joey had been out after curfew, no matter their claims to have been at the cathedral the entire time.

Where Hannah had chosen not to notice, Magada had and questioned Sera with an all-knowing, all-saying stare. Sera, not willing to talk about it until she had spoken to Koltin, had shaken her head and rushed out of the house and since distracted herself with the market stalls and goods. Koltin had left coin days ago, and in a short amount of hours Sera had but a few coppers left in her pocket.

Hannah straightened, cracked her knuckles, and regarded her work with a series of eye lifts before her mouth pursed.

"Something the matter?" Sera cleared her throat and leaned forward to see the drawing.

It was rough, a series of lines thick and thin, hard and soft that meshed and blended to form shape and shade. Sera had always found watching Koltin draw magical; an alchemist turning parchment into gold, summoning chaos and colour, commanding its obedience with the lash of his tools. She'd watch his eyes see, and his fingers record, sketch, smudge, and brush. Hannah was still a novice, her lines confident, yet tinged with the innocence of youth. And no less beautiful. The drawing of the old man sleeping next to his stall as his wife bartered with a customer over the price of their wares, was close to exact. To Sera's untrained eye it was brilliant, but she could tell from Hannah's demeanour that complimenting it was out of the question.

"It's almost there, kiddo."

Hannah tsked. "I can't seem to get the mouth right." She dropped her pen and sighed. "Koltin's shown me so many times, but it's so...urgh."

Sera stretched to angle the paper. The man on parchment was a linear replica of its reference, the mouth had evidence of Hannah's attempts to rectify and erase, but other than that, it was a wonderful sketch.

"Just say it," Hannah sighed and shook her head.

Sera made a sound that was initially intended to be the beginning of a word.

Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose and waited. The gesture was cute, but Sera knew better than to laugh.

"I think it's brilliant," Sera said finally, smiling at the distraught youngster. "And I think you are being far too harsh on yourself."

"Yeah, but Koltin–"

"Koltin didn't draw half as good as you at your age," Sera snapped, shocking herself. If Hannah noticed the bitter tone she did not show it, but just to be sure, Sera injected an extra layer of sweetness. "Your drawings are wonderful, kiddo. Your talent doesn't deserve to be doubted, you owe yourself more than that."