I’m grabbing the biggest coin pouch I see.
Atzi wandered northward up the market street. So many people here for the festival next week, which means plenty of targets! More than typical this time of year, because it was only once every fifty years that the council involved the gods themselves, not just their prophets.
A buffet of delicious smells wafted down the street into Atzi’s nostrils. Augh, it should be illegal to make me hungrier! Unless you feed me for free! In addition to the food stalls, there were stalls for simpler wares, such as clothing, tools, and trinkets, the stall owners shouting over the hubbub of the crowd for attention. There were shops too, their signs inviting people in for drinks or blacksmithing or sex.
Atzi stared up at a sign offering the last one. She liked brothels, back when she had enough money to go to them regularly. This brothel had a prostitute who looked similar to a girl she liked. If I had some money, I’d go in right now… damn, I miss her.
It wasn’t clear which of the two she was thinking about, the way they blended in her mind.
Atzi moved on, naturally dismissing any of the many market stalls or shops to steal from, in, or near. Those were the places guards kept their eyes on, and there were more guards stationed than usual, too.
Instead, she stalked towards the intersection between the main residential street and the market street. She leaned against a wall and began to observe the people passing, looking for her ideal target.
Too flashy. She instantly dismissed a rather posh and portly fellow, who must have come from the ‘rich district’ connected to the residential street. It was a gated community Atzi never visited, not ever since she got caught. The thought of risking robbing someone from there… Once I’m doing good again, then I definitely will!
Letting the biggest coin pouch pass her by, she waited.
She next eyed some young academy student wearing the light blue robes of an apprentice. His coin pouch jingled enticingly, too.
She halfway reached a claw out, but… What if he blows me up! It’s not worth it! Most people had a robust fear of mages, Atzi included. She retracted her claw.
More time passed. So bored. Atzi clicked her tongue in annoyance, only to then have it fall from her mouth when a tall woman with long black hair appeared. Oh my gods. She drooled as the woman sashayed by, until she realized she'd missed another opportunity for theft.
Atzi cracked her neck and resolved, I’m not leaving this spot until I’m rich!
For the next ten minutes she had no good angles or targets. C’mon, c’mon! She was tapping her claws and clicking her teeth. She was too hungry to just give up, but maybe she could just steal something, anything, and get a bite to eat. I can always come back later.
An old man hobbled past. His outfit was barely better than Atzi’s, clearly a fellow slum resident, performing whatever tasks could earn him enough to eat. There was a pouch on his belt with the telltale weight of coin. Atzi decided, Life is for the young, and I’m hungry!
She wiggled her claws to nimble her fingers, and then swiped the coin pouch in a single motion. No one noticed. The old man didn’t even hitch in his step.
Atzi turned towards a wall and counted her haul. “Five bronze!”
She sprinted to join the tide of people heading back down south, and ducked out of it to head into her favorite tavern - it had the cheapest food.
The interior was thin but long, tables lining one wall and the bar the other. Only two people were in at this hour, drinking and chatting at a table. Atzi went directly to the bar.
The tavernkeeper, Parish, gave her an easy smile. Atzi sometimes saw girls fall over themselves when he did, which was funny because on many closing nights at the tavern she’d seen him take more than one man upstairs.
“The usual, Atzi?” Parish asked.
Atzi’s stomach growled, and she wiped her poisonous drool from her mouth before she could be yelled at for it. “Yeah. Food too.” Her tail flowed up and down.
Parish poured Atzi a big, frothing glass of rice beer, then wandered off to the far end of the bar to cook atop a wood burning stove. She grabbed her glass and drank greedily, tipping her head back and letting the beer flow in. She didn’t have to be shy about drinking thanks to her natural resistance to poisons, a perk of the swamp dragon blood she liked to brag about. Hear me roar. She gave a satisfied belch.
As she made to set down the half-full glass, she noticed a piece of paper underneath where Parish had set her drink on the bar. Atzi picked it up between two claws, put down her drink, and unfolded the paper.
“This evening,” it read.
Atzi would recognize the large, barely legible handwriting anywhere. It was Fence. About time you have a job for me! It’s been months! It had been two weeks.
Atzi ate the note. It was good practice with anything illegal, and also she was just that hungry.
After a few minutes, Parish came back with a bowl of beetles like popcorn. They were burnt on one side and undercooked on the other, because Parish was the worst cook she’d ever known. Not that she cared about the taste in that moment, she was just happy to eat anything, taking a big clawful of the insects and stuffing them in her mouth.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
“Anything else?” Parish asked.
Since I have a big score lined up, that means I can spend more! Atzi counted her chickens before they hatched. She was great at counting chickens; she caught like six earlier. “‘Nother drink,” she said between bites.
Parish poured her another beer, just as frothing as the last. After she finished that one, she ordered another. I’ve got time to kill.
By the time she was done, it came out to two bronze coins, half a coin each for the food and beer. Atzi paid her tab and wandered out. She squeezed by a tearful middle-aged man heading in, no doubt there to drink his worries away.
The sun was dipping in the sky, and it looked like rain clouds over the horizon. The rains back home were warm. Sostra’s rains… Atzi shivered. She quickly made her way back up the busy market street, and turned into a wide alley.
This alley also boasted market stalls, but there were no guards. The ‘legitimate business’ the people here engaged in was more than enough deterrence for other thieves. They all carried weapons and wore scowls, which only got deeper as Atzi slinked past. She was alert - only an idiot wouldn’t be - but she’d been through plenty of times before.
There was an informal organization among the low class criminals of Sostra. The more respect the others gave you, the better spot you could claim, closer to the entrance of the alleyway.
Fence wasn’t even at the end of the alley. Where the alleyway ended, there was a second, smaller one branching off of it. At the end of that second alley was their stall.
Fence was similar to her, a lizard. They jumped from their stool and, with all the cheer of a salesperson, shouted, “Atzi!” Their red poncho swayed.
She didn’t actually know their name, which was why she just called them Fence. They were somehow even shorter than her, and she enjoyed actually being taller than someone.
“Hey. What have you got for me?” Atzi asked.
Fence chuckled and rubbed their dark green claws together. “It’s a great one. Here, step inside.” Fence lifted a cloth heading into their shanty, just behind their stall.
Atzi ducked in, careful not to trip over Fence’s many ‘treasures’. According to them, it was where they kept all the stolen goods they hadn’t offloaded yet. In Atzi’s opinion they just collected garbage. Still, it meant nobody tried to rob them.
At least Fence still works with me. Nobody else wants to work with a ‘jinx’. Atzi turned around. “So, what’s the job?”
Fence stepped inside, letting the curtain fall behind them. “Well, here’s the thing. It’s two jobs.”
“Two?” Atzi lit up.
“First job’s a test. Client knows you, knows your rep, but is willing to take a shot on you anyway if you pass the test.”
Atzi grumbled. Still, better than nothing, as long as the test still pays. “Is the real job that good?”
“Yeah. But you don’t get the details ‘less you pass the test. Oh, but I can say it’s big. So big you’d be working with a crew.”
“A… a crew?” Atzi narrowed her eyes warily. “They know it’s me?” No way another crew would want to work with me, not after last time. “I mean, I’m good, I’m really good, it’s just, you know…”
Fence laughed for ten seconds, greasy black hair flung back, as Atzi drooped. “Yeah, you really fucked that one up! Ruined my rep for working with you, too! But this is our shot to not just make a lot of coin, but get back in the game. Proper like.”
Atzi winced. It wasn’t my fault. “Okay. Tell me the test, the details there. I’m in.”
Fence grabbed a cheap looking clay cup off the floor and tossed it to her.
She caught it and turned it over in her claws, inspecting it.
“Notice anything about it?”
Yeah, this thing is way too heavy. Maybe there’s something in the clay? “What is it? Or should I just break it open and see?”
Fence shrugged. “Sure, smash it as hard as you like. Just clean up after.”
Atzi cleared a section of a nearby table, sweeping away the occupying junk. Then she smashed the cup down, uncaring about shards thanks to her sturdy scales.
What rolled out was some sort of metal sphere from the base of the cup. Atzi lifted it between two claws, peering close.
Wait, this is pure lead! This thing must be worth at least eighty bronze- no, a whole gold! Maybe I could…
“Hey, stop thinking about stealing that!”
“I wasn’t!”
“You think I didn’t want to sell ‘em too? I got thirteen of them.”
Atzi’s eyes widened. “Th-thirteen whole gold?”
Fence jumped up and smacked Atzi on the head. “Thirteen lead spheres, idiot.”
Atzi groaned, rubbing her head. Jerk!
“I’d still have to sell them, and there’s no way the client wouldn’t find out. You think someone who’d trust us with this much money in goods is someone we could mess with?”
That’s a good point. Plus, I don’t want to fuck up this job. “Okay, okay, I get it.”
“They were pilfered from a Dyme trader, who was in the Empire for some reason. Someone who can steal from Dyme-”
“I said I got it! It’s like you think I’m stupid.”
Fence gave Atzi a flat stare.
Atzi seethed internally, but decided to put her payday first. “You want them escorted somewhere?”
Fence nodded. “The client wants you to deliver them to the guards.”
“T-to the guards? And say what? ‘Hey, here’s some mysterious cups, don’t ask any questions, don’t look into who I am’, huh?”
Fence bonked Atzi on the head again. “You’ll be switching the cups at the guard house for these. They'll get sick if they drink from them.”
Ow- wait. Sneaking into the guard house. This isn’t just a test, that’s going to be really hard. What if I get caught! “No. No, no, no, this is impossible! No way!”
Fence looked up at her, eyebrow twitching. “Hey, you fucking idiot! This is the only chance we’re ever gonna get. It’s this or sit crying yourself to sleep in that shack of yours every night.”
Atzi was silent. The only chance… She tapped her claws together. “What’s the pay for this part?”
“One gold coin, plus another gold coin if you manage to get one into the guard captain’s quarters, too.”
Atzi wavered. It was a job where anything going wrong meant years in a cell, at best. But I need the money. And it’ll fix my reputation.
“Alright. When?”
Fence laughed. “Excellent. Come back here tomorrow-”
The thundering boom of an explosion cracked through the air.
Atzi immediately ducked behind a crate. No, no! The shack shook with the force. It’s not my fault! Stuff was thrown around haphazardly as the ground rumbled. I didn’t do it, it’s not my fault!
She sat there, covering her head, shaking and crying, until the rumbling stopped.