Mordecai Letto
Cai cursed under his breath. Coming out here at this time made his skin crawl and the mocking laughter of the crows had startled him. They had watched him with their glinting, beady eyes, perched high up leafless trees, judging him silently until a twig snapped underfoot had sent them into a frenzy. So much for keeping a low profile.
The boy pressed on. The soil was dark, moist, covered with shriveled leaves and gave way even under his inconsiderable weight. Foggy marshlands teeming with wildlife were no place for unarmed children, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Inside the pockets of his coats he turned over the necklace, the ring, the odd diamond-shaped coins whose value and origin he was unsure of. He wished he could say he was a clever, nimble thief, but stealing from the visitors of mother Molly's wasn't hard. Often customers were in such a lustful hurry that they threw off their precious belongings willing and forget to take them back home. Other times they ended up half passed out at the bar, their ringed fingers numb and oblivious to the quick and gentle touch of a skittish boy.
He wondered how many of the girls knew he'd been building a stash of his own, a little security for the uncertain times ahead. Some had to know, they were clever enough for it and not hypocritical enough to say anything of it.
The ring with the inscription on it was the only thing that worried him now. "For my dearest love, J." it read. It was pure, plain gold and he almost felt bad for having taken it.
The crows still circled overhead when he arrived at his hidden stash. A dead, hollow oak some distance from the main road and with the crack in its barking facing away from prying eyes was where he'd stashed a small chest, almost a year ago now.
Checking over his shoulder to ensure he was alone, Mordecai stuffed one hand in his shirt and fished out the small key dangling from a leather necklace. He sank to his knees at the foot of the old oak and opened the chest with a familiar click.
No sooner than he'd loaded his trophies into the chest and turned the lock once more, he felt it. Maybe it was a sound, maybe just a change in the air, but somehow he knew he wasn't alone anymore.
He turned with a start. Amid the trees and overgrowth stood a distant figure, slight but elegant, white as marble from tip to toe. A child? Certainly a girl judging by her pale hair. Had she seen? How long for had she been standing there?
Mordecai balled his fists at his sides and squinted at the ghostly appearance. "Who are you?" he demanded to know, then crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you staring at me for?"
The boy pressed on. The soil was dark, moist, covered with shriveled leaves and gave way even under his inconsiderable weight. Foggy marshlands teeming with wildlife were no place for unarmed children, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Inside the pockets of his coats he turned over the necklace, the ring, the odd diamond-shaped coins whose value and origin he was unsure of. He wished he could say he was a clever, nimble thief, but stealing from the visitors of mother Molly's wasn't hard. Often customers were in such a lustful hurry that they threw off their precious belongings willing and forget to take them back home. Other times they ended up half passed out at the bar, their ringed fingers numb and oblivious to the quick and gentle touch of a skittish boy.
He wondered how many of the girls knew he'd been building a stash of his own, a little security for the uncertain times ahead. Some had to know, they were clever enough for it and not hypocritical enough to say anything of it.
The ring with the inscription on it was the only thing that worried him now. "For my dearest love, J." it read. It was pure, plain gold and he almost felt bad for having taken it.
The crows still circled overhead when he arrived at his hidden stash. A dead, hollow oak some distance from the main road and with the crack in its barking facing away from prying eyes was where he'd stashed a small chest, almost a year ago now.
Checking over his shoulder to ensure he was alone, Mordecai stuffed one hand in his shirt and fished out the small key dangling from a leather necklace. He sank to his knees at the foot of the old oak and opened the chest with a familiar click.
No sooner than he'd loaded his trophies into the chest and turned the lock once more, he felt it. Maybe it was a sound, maybe just a change in the air, but somehow he knew he wasn't alone anymore.
He turned with a start. Amid the trees and overgrowth stood a distant figure, slight but elegant, white as marble from tip to toe. A child? Certainly a girl judging by her pale hair. Had she seen? How long for had she been standing there?
Mordecai balled his fists at his sides and squinted at the ghostly appearance. "Who are you?" he demanded to know, then crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you staring at me for?"
