Thief Mage, Beggar Mage by Cat Hellisen

Author:Cat Hellisen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ghost Moth Press
Published: 2022-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

TIK-TOK-TIK-TOK

The week was a long one. Full of strange love songs, and half-sightings. The blind man who had become Tet’s neighbour against the market wall liked sitting near him. At least when there was no rattle of coin against wood, he could listen to the old songs.

Tet had started trying to use the little finger as best he could, and though it ached by the end of each day and the notes buzzed, it gave him a small feeling of accomplishment. I can do this. I can rebuild.

The blind man, Sovhar, asked him to play songs Tet didn’t know, and when he told the man he had never heard them, Sovhar sang to him in his wavery old-man voice until Tet got the tune right. The market was meagre for the most part, and the people buying the thin, limp produce and the rough cloth were thin and rough themselves. They didn’t have coin to spare for another broken man home from the border but they left what they could, even if it was nothing more than a gourd or a tuber. Still, Tet couldn’t risk going to the more affluent areas – not if the palace guards might still be on the lookout for him, or at least for Ohtet Maynim. Tet didn’t want to take the chance that someone might recognise him.

When he trudged home each evening with his meagre take, he kept to the alleyways and shadows. It was not just because he hoped to avoid any guard who might be prowling the eastern areas, but in case he caught a glimpse of a one-armed thief flitting through the dark. That day, like all the others, Tet saw nothing but the long moving shadows of the buildings, clawing the streets like black fingers as the sky washed red over the city. Always disappointment. Tet had collected nine more of the ruined one-pieces by playing the love songs of dragons, but after a few days had passed, no one added more. He must have missed some vital thing – a word he was meant to say in answer, or a sign to give them – to let them know he was to be trusted.

Tet’s head was heavy and slow, and his wrists and hands ached from playing so much; he planned to take to his bed early. The homeward-bound crowds had thinned, most people were already at their cooking fires, or boiling water for tea. He walked head down, half-asleep on his feet, and didn’t notice the dog until it was right before him.

He jerked to a halt. The dog was red-furred, the tail curling over its back like the coil of a new vine. A free-dog. A strange sight in this city where all the hounds were kept as slaves on iron-link chains. It growled, yellow-white teeth curving to points.

Tet’s heart hammered slow and painful, fear making his limbs numb. Have I already been found? This was an animal sacred to his people, and to Epsi, Vitash, and Nanak.

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