The Broken Song

Chapter One

- City of Kiverryn, Iskendryn, Andavaran -

What was that smell? It couldn't be her. Even after that trip to Yairin, when she hadn't bathed in a week and had spent the majority of her days beneath those twin sweltering suns, she hadn't managed to stink this bad. But, this abomination was seeping so far into her nose she worried she might be permanently smell-impaired if she didn't find the source of it soon. So, she lifted one arm and took a whiff.

No, not her.

Her legs dangled over the edge of the rooftop, kicking absentmindedly as she took another bite of her sandwich. Her gaze swept her immediate surroundings. She had been up there for the better part of an hour now, waiting, rather impatiently so, for the opportunity to present itself. Why did she ever listen to Ned anyway? His leads were always tenuous at best, and when he did have something good, his timing was just the worst. But, she had come here anyway, the mark far too promising to resist, and had secured her position on the ledge of one of the prettier buildings in Kiverryn. It afforded her an uninterrupted view of the street below, and would provide her the best angle of attack. It was the perfect spot.

Except for the horrid smell.

Raising the sandwich back to her face, she smelled it cautiously. Thankfully, it wasn't the source. Her eyes darted, instead, to the brown bottle at her side. Her eyes narrowed. She was alone on the rooftop, and there was nothing else that could be causing such a smell. The bottle had to be the culprit. Eyes squinted, brow furrowed, she slowly peeled the lid away and raised the bottle to her nose.

She nearly vomited into the street. That would have been bad enough. Worse still, was that, revolted by the horrible smell, she recoiled, and her grip on the bottle loosened. Wide-eyed, she watched it drop onto a passerby below. It struck him directly on the top of his head, smashing to a thousand pieces and dousing the poor man in the putrid liquid. She could only stare as he pitched forward, knocked unconscious by the blow, his body falling perfectly behind an empty merchant's stall, obscuring his body from view.

Shit.

She knew that man. Michael, he had called himself. He had seemed nice enough, a little weird, but he didn't deserve to die like that. Even more extraordinary, no one seemed to have witnessed her blunder at all. High up on the roof, she blinked slowly, eyes trailing over the street, but when absolutely no one made to help him, she shrugged and took another bite of her sandwich.

What could she do? She was on a timetable after all.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her mark finally appeared down the street. A gilded carriage, it seemed to glide in her direction, bringing with it a lovely treasure that she was going to enjoy stealing from greedy Lord Such-and-Such.

Scarfing down the rest of her meal, she jumped to her feet on the edge of the rooftop and stretched her neck and shoulders, trying to loosen up. She readied herself, watching as the carriage made its way down the main street without the slightest knowledge that it was in danger. She smiled to herself.

This would be fun.

The carriage was almost directly below her when she jumped. Her body tensed, ready for the impact. This wasn't the first time she had done this, but she needed to focus. She had a limited window if she was going to remain unnoticed and steal everything in the carriage before the city guards caught her.

Her feet hit the roof, her body crouching low to soften the impact. She wasted no time, gripping the edge of the roof to slide her body through the open window on the right hand side. With assured finesse, she took her seat as casually as a noble gliding into a ballroom, crossing her legs and leaning back on the wooden bench with a flirtatious smile on her face.