KMAM

So, aside from plague (viral bronchitis, yay! they gave me hydrocodone to kill it o_O;;), I have been working on my story for LT3's Kiss Me at Midnight anthology, for which the deadline is the end of the month. It's a cute little story about a mage and a thief who is trying to steal from said mage, but neither of them has the motivation the other suspects. ^__^



Neri weaved his way through the crowd quickly, holding the tray of wine glasses level and steady. He paused, letting people take full glasses and deposit empty ones, all the while keeping an eye out for his target. His contact had been sure Lord Casimir Thompsett would be attending the party, and there was no reason to doubt it. The party was the celebration of the king's tenth year in power—everyone who was anyone was attending.

That Lord Casimir Thompsett was one of the king's mages meant that he was practically required to attend. Neri only had to be patient, and he would find him. He'd seen Thompsett before, too, so he wasn't working blind. Find Thompsett, nick his watch, and get out. Simple enough, and Neri wished he could shake the bad feeling he had about this job.

Returning to the kitchens briefly for a fresh tray of drinks, Neri returned to the ballroom, moving into a different section of the room, nearer the musicians. It was there that he finally caught sight of Thompsett, conversing with a few ladies and lords who appeared to be hanging on his every word. Neri ghosted closer, continuing to hand out wine glasses and accept empties.

Thompsett was wearing the watch. A gold chain hung from the front of his dark blue waistcoat, disappearing into the pocket on the left. From the description Neri had been given, the watch itself would be gold as well, engraved with a dragon and set with garnets.

A lovely piece, but far too recognizable to fence. If Neri hadn't been hired to snitch it specifically, he never would have bothered. Stealing it in public was risky, but it was his best shot. Thompsett was a king's mage, after all, and there was no sneaking into a king's mage's chambers. He'd thought about wrangling an invite—Thompsett was not hard on the eyes, and it was a solid gambit. From what little he'd learned of Thompsett before the ball, however, Thompsett was not one to dally so.

Approaching the group, Neri offered the tray of drinks and a coy smile to the group. It couldn't hurt, after all, even if Thompsett would likely ignore it. To his surprise, Thompsett looked at him, returning the smile. His hair was black, pulled back neatly, simply tucked into a black hair clip. His eyes were bright in the light of the ballroom, a pretty blue-green, and it would have been no chore to warm Thompsett's bed for an evening.

Accepting the unspoken invitation, Neri stepped closer, offering the tray to Thompsett. "A drink, my lord?"

Thompsett stepped close—too close, as though Neri had asked him for something else. It was the perfect opportunity; Thompsett's body blocked the view of the people around them. Neri tilted his head up, smile widening in invitation, and deftly plucked the watch from Thompsett's pocket. It fell off the chain as soon as Neri had it out, and he palmed it, bringing the tray closer.

"I believe I will," Thompsett murmured, giving Neri a smoldering look that made Neri want to forget the job and make good on the promise in Thompsett's eyes.

Instead, he gave Thompsett another smile and stepped away, offering the tray around to the people nearby. When he was a bit away from Thompsett, he slipped the watch into his pocket. He didn't dare leave immediately, continuing to circulate until his tray was mostly empty once more. Then he left, glancing back once—but Thompsett was nowhere in sight, lost in the crowd.

He deposited the tray on a table when he reached an empty hallway, then hastily pulled off his jacket, turning it inside out. It was a deep, silken red on the inside, something suited to a modest merchant instead of a servant. Neri's hair had been tucked up under a dark cloth, and he pulled that away, tucking it into a pocket. He tied his hair back with a ribbon, smoothing it back neatly.

It had been too easy, Neri thought, frowning worriedly. The whole thing should have been more difficult—getting close to Thompsett, getting the watch, getting out. Technically, he wasn't out yet, but why had the chain just … fallen away? He should have had to take it, too. Moving swiftly down the hallway, further from the ballroom, Neri ducked into a side hall, opening the first door he came across that wasn't locked.

It proved to be a small sitting room. The fire was burned down, almost out, but it cast enough light through the room to prove it to be empty. Neri shut the door behind him, then crossed over to stand near the window. He was still on the first floor, so the window was a viable option if anyone discovered him. Pulling the watch out, he fidgeted with the hem of his jacket until he managed to extract the thin rod hidden in fold. It took a whispered word to activate the charm, and light flooded over the surface of the watch.

Gold, carved with a dragon, studded with garnets. As it should be, and Neri wanted to chalk it up to fortune smiling on him, but it was too easy. Especially for a last job. It could be fake, but it was a very good fake if so. It didn't matter, Neri decided. He had a watch that fit the description, lifted from Thompsett. If it was the wrong watch, well, it wasn't as though he could ask Thompsett.

Neri deactivated the spelled wand, tucking it back into his jacket hem. He put the watch back into his pocket, and turned to head back to the door. It was time to leave. He was halfway there when he heard the sound of heavy, booted footsteps approaching. That never boded well, though it was possible the boot-wearers were just passing through.

Considering his options briefly—hide or exit via window—Neri quickly decided on the latter. The further he was towards leaving the palace behind, the better. Crossing the room, he tried the window—locked. Running his fingers along the frame, he found the lock quickly, deftly undoing the cheap mechanism in the dim light and then sliding the window open. The footsteps stopped outside the room, and Neri hesitated.

How did they know he was in here?

His fingers sought out the watch again, and Neri wondered with growing suspicion whether they were following the watch. If they'd known about the plan for it to be stolen … if they wanted to catch him, or more likely, the bigger fish who wanted the watch … they could have made it easy for him to get it, then tracked his movements with it, and planned to follow him right back to his employer, where they would swoop in and get all of them.

Could a mage cast a spell like that? Neri wasn't sure. His only experience with magic and spells were the charms and spells like his light wand. They were expensive enough, without getting into the higher-level magics.

Was he overreacting? No one had barged in, but the footsteps—multiple pairs of boots were hard to miss—hadn't gone on and neither had they retreated. Which left him standing by a window, debating throwing away the piece he'd been commissioned to steal. It would take him another year to make up the price he'd been promised for the watch, and that was providing his employer didn't kill him for the failure.

Maybe they'd gone on and he hadn't heard, as occupied as he'd been with the window. There wasn't much noise outside, but it could have overridden any noise the booted feet had made. Neri took a step towards the door. Maybe he should go, and lead them on a merry chase if they were, in fact, following the watch? He could always leave the watch, too, though that option was the least appealing. Safest, but least appealing.

Standing there wasn't going to help anything. Throwing caution to the wind, Neri crossed the room to the door. He kept his footsteps quiet out of habit, used to sneaking around in occupied houses in the dark. Reaching the door, he opened it, tensing against whatever awaited him on the other side.

Three men flanked the door: two guards and Thompsett himself. None of them seemed to have expected him to open the door, and Neri took advantage of the hesitation, pulling the watch from his pocket and throwing it at Thompsett. Not waiting to see the reaction to that, Neri jerked back, slamming the door, and sprinted across the room towards the open window.

Tucking his arms close, Neri dove out the window, aware of shouts and the sounds of pursuit behind him. He hit the ground hard, rolling with the force of impact for a few feet before scrambling up. He didn't pause, sprinting off in the vague direction of the palace gates. He undid a few buttons as he went—playing an overindulged fool would likely get him through the gates, provided he could lose his pursuers.

Neri gasped out a yelp when someone grabbed him from behind, his boot catching on the ground. He unbalanced, tumbling to the ground, the weight of his assailant landing heavily atop him. Neri immediately shoved, trying to squirm free, his heart beating a rapid staccato inside his chest. His captor cursed when Neri scored a solid hit with an elbow, and Neri was almost free when the man murmured an incantation.

The world melted away, a swirl of colors and cold and dusty air followed by intense hot and suddenly Neri was no longer outside, but instead was lying on a hard tile floor. A large fire crackled nearby, and Neri couldn't catch his breath, couldn't settle the way his head was still spinning, couldn't reconcile being outside one moment with being inside the next.

Something moved nearby, and Neri was abruptly reminded that escape was the priority, not collecting his head. Shoving himself up, he groaned when his stomach flipped and his head spun twice as badly. Sudden movements were a bad idea, then. Someone was walking away—and a second later the sound of a lock clicking into place registered.

Neri glanced around. He was in a large sitting room of some sort. Sofas, chairs, and tables blocked his way to the door on the far side of the room, and the route to the windows was similarly filled with obstacles. There was another door, but it was blocked by an angry-looking Thompsett, who had finished locking it, as though a lock was somehow a deterrent to Neri.