He made it to the next corner and skidded to a halt as voices drifted around the bend. Scrambling into a doorway, he curled up on the stoop as though he was simply an urchin catching some shelter for the night. The voices drew closer, accompanied by boot steps.

“Slow night, no one out in the rain.”

“Even the guard stuck to the taverns tonight.”

“What’s that?” They rounded the corder and spotted the boy.

“Just some kid, he don’t even have shoes.”
“What’s he doin’ out?”

“No where to be in, I guess. Leave him be.”

“Fine, just bored.”

Their steps moved on, voices retreating into the night. He peeked through his arms, seeing their backs off in the distance, waiting for them to get out of sight. He listened a few minutes longer, then unfolded and dashed around the building and up the next street.

The guildhall was three streets away, past the market. An easy task on a busy day, but at night the city guard kept a close eye on the open space. He skirted between the stalls, edging his way around. The taverns were quiet by now, and nothing stirred. He tried to look everywhere at once, certain he was being watched. The bag at his chest jangled as he came to a sudden stop, and his heart frozen. Still, nothing moved.

He could see the far side of the square, the alley that would take him home. A pool of light the last obstacle. He looked all around it, checking every shadow, doorway and roof. The absence of rats disturbed him most. Surely they were not all asleep, too. Taking one last breath, he sprinted for the alley.

Just as he entered it, feeling the elation of escape, he bounced backwards, falling to the ground with a sharp gasp. Looking up, he saw boots, gray worn pants, and a barrel chest covered with a charcoal tunic. A dagger in his hand and a gleam in his eye, the man offered him a hand up.

“I was starting to worry, Danny, you should have been back over an hour ago.”

“Old man wouldn’t go to sleep, sir, had to wait him out.” He took his master’s hand and dragged himself off the ground, handing over his precious cargo.

“A couple more of these and you’ll be a journeyman, Dan, just a couple more.”

“Time to go to work.” The little band scattered out into the market. “Be careful.” he whispered, but they were gone.

Thom stood against the wall of the Singing Bear. His charges, three boys and two girls, all about seven years old, wandered through the crowd. He could see their paths, ripples of disturbed adults. They had been training for three months and this was their final exam.

A loud scream drew his attention to the far left of the square. A guard was holding Chris off the ground by one arm. He was wriggling and kicking to no avail. Thom shook his head and looked down as the guard carried the boy away.

A shout and a minor scuffle to the right, but Sara scurried away without being caught. Seamus reappeared beside Thom without warning and handed over a large purse then slipped away again. Ruby wandered in and out of sight, munching on various sweets. Thom noted her shirt was more stuffed each time she passed, as well.

Thom stared intently at the swarm of people milling about. Xander was nowhere to be seen. There was no ripple, no disturbances, no sign of the fifth young pickpocket. He and Seamus were the best of the bunch, but Xander did not like to show off. He would not reappear until he was done.

The sun was setting as Thom turned back to base. Ruby joined him, still munching on a pie. Seamus caught up next, turning over yet another purse. Sara was sitting in the alley waiting. They all went inside. Xander stood against the wall, his belt bulging with gold and Chris standing shame-faced behind him.

“Couldn’t let him lose his hand, or his head.” Xander explained.

“Thank you, that was thoughtful.” Thom dumped all their profits on the table. “Most of you did quite well today. Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.

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