She turns to me. Her cheek should be pinker and maybe redder in color than it is but, you know, it’s obscured under a dusting of rouge. Oh, she’s pissed.
She comes at me this time, swinging high. I duck and weave where she blocks but Veronica twists me around. I kick off away from her, losing my balance in the process. She doesn’t quite throw me, I manage at least that much, but I still go down. Right in front of my nose is a pie someone dropped on the floor. Most of a pie anyway. Another inch and my face would have been covered in the gooey glop. That would have been embarrassing. Hey now…that’s an idea.
I pick the pie up and throw it at Veronica. She blocks it by holding her arms out before her. The pie missed most of her but it splattered all over her forearm and along her left side. She looks at her dress then at me
“I’ll get you for that!” she swears as she comes at me again. I guess that dress is expensive? Or, rather, was?
She hits me in the side of the head but I manage to turn my head so it isn’t that hard of a hit. I duck under her next punch and strike her in the gut again. I roll to the side as she swings again and get in a good jab at her kidney. Before I can roll away she has my arm. I contort myself a bit and get enough leverage to kick her firmly in her rear. It isn’t much but the blow is enough to draw her attention to said rear, not my arm, and in that moment I pull free.
There is another pastry near me. I throw it at her and she dodges, her foot slipping on some food on the floor. Her stance has been good so far in those heels. I wish there was more food for her to slip in. It would ruin her dwarven fighting stance.
I look to the large table filled with cakes, pies, pastries, meats, and cheeses. If she’s pissed enough at me, will she follow? Surely she won’t find any footing on that table.
“Some hero. Can’t even handle a thief all on your own? Do you want help? I’m sure Blaise is upstairs. He can deal with me himself. If you want, go and get him.”
She won’t. She’s too pissed.
“I don’t need Blaise,” she says.
If I was going to just fight you fairly, you would be right. But, I’ve got a strategy now.
Food fight!
I back up to the table with all the food on it and Veronica comes charging at me. I’m a slippery little thing when I want to be. She reaches out to grab me and I just fall to the ground while rolling behind her. I kick her outstretched butt as hard as I can while rolling once more and getting to my feet.
Veronica starts to turn towards me but I kick her once more quickly and I send her flying forward, her heels skidding a bit on the floor. I can imagine her mouth open as she cries out and flies into the table. She lands right into the cakes and pies. Her head is too high up to be covered in goo but her arms and chest have to be plastered!
She’s paused for a moment. All the cold gooey crap is unexpected, I’m sure. Let’s see if I can end this. I run up and jump onto the table as she tries to pull herself up, picking bits of confectionary goodness from her cleavage. I think I hear her mutter a curse at me as she does so. She’s about to turn towards me as I leap over her. I grab her by the side of her head with both hands and slam her face back down to the table. I hear a squish and I know she’s found that pie that she almost fell into. Well, it isn’t almost anymore!
She gasps as she staggers backwards. This is great! That ridiculously made up face is just, gone. It’s just…it’s all this white, yellowish, creamy goop with a hole where her mouth is gaping open in utter shock and humiliation. She’s got a little in her hair too. That’s all Veronica is now, a pie monster.
“You…you…” she stammers.
I laugh. I can’t help it. It only causes her to rage more at this degrading defeat.
“You look so silly!” I say, prodding her on.
Her manicured fingers grab as much of the pie and cake from her face that she can, throwing the sticky remains that had clung to her face to the ground. Her eyes are free of the creamy mess now and she blinks a few times, clearly wonder what the fuck just happened before remembering what happened as she sees me laughing at her. And I laugh because it’s funny. And it is pissing her off and Veronica seems to be the type to make bad decisions when pissed off. I don’t want her to go and get help; I want her to hate me. And oh, she hates me. Like, really, really, hates me.
If she catches me I am so screwed.
I turn and see some horizontal beams along the wall. I leap from one wall to another and then come to a rest where the wall makes a corner, my feet resting on the inch of ledge that the beams give me, holding myself steady.
“Come and get me. If you can!”
Veronica approaches the table, grabbing it with both hands. She’s going to climb after me! Once she falls on her ass I’ll knock her out, tie her up, and make my way upstairs. I was hoping that hair grab face plant thing would be the knockout blow that I needed. Yes, it was funny that she got pied right in her painted face but I wasn’t actually aiming for that pie. But it was great!
“When I get my hands on you I will make you ever regret meeting me!” Veronica roars at me as she staggers to the top of the table, standing fully on it in her vain attempt to get at me.
I’d like to take a moment and talk about shoes. I like shoes. No. That’s not really true. I love shoe. My sister doesn’t get it. Shoes are fantastic! Fabulous! There are so many shoes; Shoes that are suited for a lot of walking; thick boots for marching or combat; soft shoes for comfort. Take the shoes I have on now. They are soft soled boots but with ridges along the bottom so I can get traction. Running silent is pointless if I’m sliding everywhere. Yeah, I know how to move about without making a sound, but the shoes help. Shoes, for my sister and me, are tools and no different than our lock picks, our vials, and other assorted gadgets.
The shoes that Veronica is wearing….are super sexy and I am absolutely going to get a pair. Three pairs maybe. Different colors for different outfits, obviously. They would look great for parties and evenings with Bridget. I bet Bridget would find them sexy. I know she would find them sexy. If Bridget doesn’t have a pair I’ll get her a pair because she would look stunning in them. But here, stepping all over that goopy table? Veronica brought the wrong shoes to this fight.
One foot starts to slide and then another. Her face, what I can see of it, turns from her lost footing being a mild annoyance to one of terrifying fear. I can see the arrogance from the first slip where she knows that slip is just a misstep and she can recover to the next few where she knows she can’t and she doesn’t know what to do.
She can’t catch herself. She staggers forward! Yes! Once she falls down I’ll pounce and…wait. She’s pulled herself back upright. No! She’s over compensated! She’s falling over backwards. She’s careening head first into a barrel. Oh! Is that molasses?
She screams as she sees her impending, sticky, doom. Her screaming dies off as she descends into the barrel, her legs kicking about impotently. She slowly sinks into the barrel of viscous molasses, her sexy underwear clearly on display as her top half has already submerged and her dress has parted from her legs, because gravity. Mental note: get a pair of those for when you see Bridget next.
Veronica continues to kick. She’s rocking the barrel with her struggle. It sways one way, then the other. Her head has to be at the bottom of the barrel now. I can see her feet slipping under the molasses as she finally rocks the barrel over with a crash
The molasses pours over the floor. I don’t hear anything. Oh no! Have I killed her? She suffocated! Damn it.
But then, after a pause, she does scream. Not one of those, I’m in pain screams. It’s one of those impotent screams of rage at her helplessness. She’s been humiliatingly defeated and she knows it.
I can hear her dress tearing as it sticks to the side of the barrel as she struggles to free herself. I bet all that long black hair is just as stuck. Her butt is just waving there, sticking out of the barrel. Oh, this is marvelous! I hop down to the floor. I should kick her ass, literally.
“Ahh!” Veronica screams as the hot fork pierces her curvy backside. She moves away from the fork, racing forward and…
Thud! Right into the bottom of the barrel.
Veronica falls flat on her belly.
Well, I don’t want her to suffocate. I’m a thief, not a killer. I’ll just walk over, stepping over the pooling molasses, and roll the barrel over so she’s on her back. The molasses is everywhere. Trays! I’ll toss some trays on the floor and step on those. There are some all over the place. There! Now I’ll just push the barrel over. Heave ho and all that!
Wow! Is she heavy covered in molasses. It’s okay. I’ve got it. Ugh! Just rock it back and forth a bit Mary, get some momentum. There! I got it! It’s moving! I peer into the barrel to make sure she rolled in the right way with the barrel and see her nose above the molasses.
Is she a sight! Her hair is stuck to all the sides of the barrel along with the shreds of what was once a beautiful dress. She is just, covered. She’s like a tar monster with boobs. Feathers! I need feathers!
Stop Mary! Focus. You have a job to do. Quit playing. Just, go upstairs and be ready if your sister needs help. Fortune awaits.
Okay. One more peek. I need to burn this image into my memory.
She’s so shiny and sticky! I will remember this, Veronica, for the rest of my life.
Crowns and Jewels
So far I don’t see a lot of heroes leaving the feat hall, but that is going to change. It is only a matter of time, a short amount of time, before some hero think about checking on their new prisoner what with the entire kitchen staff fleeing to the first floor. But I’m not waiting around to see how this plays out. My new accomplice is out and on her own and I am now moving ahead with the heist.
I have a handful of knives hidden away, tucked under my skirt. I’ll need them in a minute.
All of the guards are focused on the feast hall and in the hallway just outside. Guards are talking to servants as they try to figure out what went wrong. So far I don’t see anyone rushing up to the vault. They will. Once they notice that I’ve escaped they’ll head to protect their treasures.
And if it takes them too long I’ll just summon them.
The guards at the stairway don’t turn an eye to me. I’m still just a servant making her way up to the second floor. Blaise hasn’t told everyone that I’m a prisoner yet. With the feast underway honoring the arrival of his parents he probably assumed he had time afterwards. He clearly planned on me staying locked up more than a few minutes. I look back and see my cellmate mingling, uneasily, with the other servants.
“No one will be looking for you,” I said to her.
“What if they do?”
“Okay, first, don’t be nervous because you’ll look nervous and you will stand out from the crowd,” I said.
“Okay.”
“You have enough money to get you some place safe. You’re just a petty thief to them. The gates will open when the heroes rush out later. Trust me, they will. Some of the servants who live in town will want to go home and will leave then.”
“Okay.”
“Go with them. Keep your head down and you’ll be fine,” I said.
“Okay. And…thanks,” she said to me. I just smiled and gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.
She’ll be fine. It’s me and my sister that they will be after. Well, most likely me. I’m the one that has to break into the vault and get the Tear of Astra. My sister just needs to stay out of trouble and out of Bridget.
Another crack of thunder. It is going to be a good storm. Storms are great. They turn day into night and force everyone’s eyes to the ground. All the guards along the walls will not be looking at me as I climb up the keep’s walls.
The second floor is only a little bit on edge. And that is only because of the storm.
Despite my rush I have to walk at a leisurely pace. Thieves get tripped up by looking like thieves. Not me. I look like a servant.
This is working better than I had hoped. While all of the heroes are in the feast hall, out of my way, I will eventually need Blaise to head upstairs. I need him to show me where the real Tear of Astra is. I was going to search that war room and maybe his bedroom looking for the Tear of Astra since I know it isn’t on him. This will work out better! This is why it pays to be flexible; I couldn’t have planned on Blaise having a second Tear of Astra or Veronica being a runecaster, but all those little pieces make for a concrete plan.
I turn around the corner and see the last hall I have to take. No one is stopping me. They’re all talking about the storm and looking out the windows. I’ll have to be careful when I climb.
The door to Veronica’s room is closed. Her servants are likely inside. I’ll have to be quiet as I pass.
The storm is almost on top of the keep. As I turn into the storage room I can see that it has brought an early night to the region. Good. Also in the good news column, the room is empty.
I was afraid that it would be a small storm. Yes, I was told it wouldn’t be but predictions of weather never go as expected all the time.
I close the door. It opens inward so I can easily bar it with a chair or two. I just need time to get my gear together.
First, I need to get changed into something more appropriate. Scaling the wall dressed as a servant isn’t going to work. It’s dark outside and it’s only going to get darker. I need to be dressed in black.
I take my skirt off and turn it inside out and tie it off to make it a sack that hangs from my belt. Gloves are pulled from my bodice and a long black strip of cloth that is for my head. I tie my hair up against my head and then I wrap it around my hair so it won’t be tangled up in anything. I make sure that I also cover my mouth and nose so only my eyes are visible. Just in case someone sees me I don’t want them to recognize me.
Turning my undergarments inside out turns them black. The legs and arms of my undergarments pull out to give me long sleeves and long leggings. The top of my shirt pulls up as well and buttons under my neck. Everything is form fitting. This is important: you do not want things getting torn or getting caught on anything. And you don’t want to be running around naked either.
I reach for my bucket and see everything is still there. I put the contraption in the sack hanging from my belt and find the end of the rope my sister made. I tie off the knives to form a crude grappling hook. It will help but I will need more.
This is what the molasses is for. I pull out a vial with a blue liquid inside. This blue liquid is a special concoction of my own design. My sister may know knots and contraptions but I know my way around a kitchen. When mixed in with a sticky substance it will become super sticky. It took me a lot of work to get this formula down. It just needs something sticky as a starter and my potion just amplifies that.
I kick the bucket to break it and stick some of the wood in between the knives to make the hook a bit sturdier. I can use one of the wooden shards from the bucket to stir the mixture.
Next I smear the mixture on the knives, the wood, and the end of the sheets. The glue should work well but I don’t want to test how long it will hold my weight.
Now to secure the rope.
Sheets don’t make the best rope and despite the knots my sister tied, which should hold me, she said I shouldn’t risk it. I take some more of the glue and spread it over the knots and then tear some sheets into strips and wrap one strip around each knot. The glue should hold the sheets together long enough for me to make my climb.
I open the window and can feel the cool breeze coming in. Along the inner curtain guards are already looking more to the sky around them than the keep.
Crack!
That was close. The storm is nearly on us.
The first drops of rain start to hit me and I step into the window frame and look up. Above me I can see the metal bars of the vault!
The rain is coming down now in a torrent with periodic cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning. The guards out on the walls are looking downward to keep the rain out of their eyes.
I twirl the end of the sheets and throw it up to the bars.
It caught and…it’s stuck!
I put the end of the sheets in my sack so as I climb it will just gather there instead of dangling below me where everyone can see.
I close the window behind me leaving only my blouse inside. And then…I start to climb. Faster Corvina! Faster! Ugh…this is a real workout. This is the part that I really don’t like. It’s not that I’m scared of heights, it’s just that I’m not a fan of the length of my life determined by how sticky my glue is and how good of a knotter my sister is. Heroes don’t realize just how much effort it takes to break into their vaults and steal their things. If they saw me at work they would be more appreciative, I think.
Almost to the top. I pause and look around me. No one is pointing to me. It’s pretty dark and the rain is real heavy now.
I continue my climb. Almost there.
Almost…
There! I’m at the bars. I quickly tie the sheets tight around the bars so it is more secure and then around my waist and leg. Just in ca…
Crack!
Damn! I’m slipping! Shit! The contraption! It’s falling!
Caught it. Wow, that lightning was close. I nearly wet myself. Damn!
Now I’m dangling upside down, one leg tied to the bar, holding onto my sister’s geared contraption. Well, no one is going to help me up. Time to get myself upright.
I reach up, my fingers grasping for the bars around the window. One of the bars is almost in reach. I…I’ve got it!
The Thief of Dunmire and the Tear of Astra (The League of Sinister Means Book 1) Page 16
