17

Financial Procurement

The upper class area was nice enough. Still built with the white stone the city was known for, but with more intricate architecture. Not as sprawling, tall, or rich as Orrick, but nice enough in its own right.

She wasn’t sure why she wandered here; habit, she supposed. There was significant enough doubt that she would find any form of work around this area, unless someone wanted a particularly uncultured maid. There were other ways, but she wasn’t ever going to stoop to that level.

Turning into a street lined with unnecessarily large manor houses, she fretted at something hard and metallic lining her cloak. In her moment of distraction, she found herself colliding with something soft, warm and fluffy which bounced her onto the ground. The first thing she noticed wasn’t the ample bosom of feathers with an unknown meat to feather ratio, but the overly ostentatious work of jewels and precious metals attached above them. The rich colour of sunlight, mottled with sapphires, rubies and emeralds galore.

How much would something like that get her?

No. She didn’t do that kind of work anymore.

She looked above the necklace to see the white avian it was hanging from who carried the expression of one who had just stepped in excrement. Parts of her retinue stood in varying degrees of shock and mild amusement. Two burly guard hounds locked the gate of one of the estates. One noticed the commotion and ran to the lady’s side, ready to pounce.

‘Oh… Sorry,’ Kathiya said.

‘Why must they let the vermin infest our part of the city?’ she said, directed at her entourage, who giggled and guffawed at the sullied girl sitting before them.

You know what? Fuck morals.

‘Oh, I’m so very sorry!’ Kathiya said, jumping to her feet and dusting off the avian. ‘I must take better care of where I am going!’ She dusted off the ivory white dress, patting down the contorted shape from an overly tightened corset. ‘But these eyes aren’t so good anymore. Had to sell my eyeglasses for food yesterday, but that’s okay.’ The lady had no idea what to do with her hands, struggling with the concept of having to push her away and not touching the filthy commoner. One of the guard hounds put a stop to that, throwing Kathiya back onto the ground.

The lady gave a harrumph of annoyance and embarrassment, while her group continued their titters. She stormed off, trying to repair what dignity she had left.

Kathiya waited till they had made far enough distance, and she pulled the necklace from her sleeve.

She laughed at just how easy it was. It reminded her of when she got into the game in the first place.

Seeing the way its crystalline gems and the warm glow of vibrant gold glimmer in the lamplight. It looked good. So good it looked kind of tasty.

She checked to see if anyone was around her.

Free from any prying eyes, she gave it an experimental lick. It tasted of metal. She didn’t know what she was expecting.

Despite all that, it wasn’t nearly enough. She could certainly get some good money for it; a few days of food, some new equipment and enough to venture onward, but it just wasn’t enough for her or to really make that lady feel it. There was more out there. In that manor.

She would be doing her a service. They say too much gold rots the soul, and this necklace would be a mere dent in her finances.

How dark was it? Enough to work with? The sun had already set beyond the horizon, and the blue sky was well into fading to black. There was just enough light to see Ves’sa land on a church roof and accidentally dislodge the top of the spire, sending it crashing into the street below.

She’d help, but she was too far away. She’d have to sort this out herself.

The gates were tall and well barred, but within it appeared most of the occupants had left.

A simple climb. She had scaled greater. Climbing the buildings of Orrick and frequent bow use gave her good upper-body strength.

From the top of the stone arch, she got a better view. Some lights remained on, but they were few and far between. More than enough shadow to work with.

Silently, she dropped from the arch and crept through the flower gardens, keeping low among the sculpted hedges and garden walls.

She reached the front door to discover they had locked it. Of course they did.

Now what? There were windows, but the stone beneath was smooth as marble. Even as good a climber as she was, she’d never be able to scale that.

She fretted again at the strange metallic thing in her cloak. What in the world was it?

A set of lock picks. Some habits never die out. This time, she was thankful for it.

She eased the tension tool into the lock, twisting it slightly until she felt the tension against it. She held it there while she delicately inserted the pick. She kept her large ear close, listening for the sweet spot where the pins would sit nicely in place.

She turned the pick, feeling the tool lightly bend with tension. One false move and the pick would bend more than it could afford to.

A click.

The click of pins finding their rightful place within the tumbler. One of the most satisfying sounds in the world.

She swelled with pride, the old skill still as fresh as it had ever been.

The door inched open, and she slithered her way in. She shut it as one would put a baby to bed, ensuring the door would make as minimal noise as possible.

With that, she was in.

An elaborate foyer, with two curved staircases starting near the centre and twisting to the above balcony. The chandelier alone was worth more than her entire life. The decorative vases would make a fine sum, if only they’d have been smaller. As it stood, they were about three heads taller than Kathiya and she wasn’t about to carry something like that around with her.

As long as her mask and hood hid the lighter parts of her fur, she could blend in well with the shadows. The trick was to wear something that wasn’t totally black. Nothing in nature is completely black in colour, and it sticks out more easily than you’d expect. Well, except for Ludgar; his fur was so dark it was almost weird.

With all the presence of a poltergeist, she ascended the steps, looking for a room that would contain something of value. Maybe a study or a bedroom. Those were where the valuables were usually kept in an ordinary home.

She turned into a hallway warmed by dim candlelight. From one door, a maid emerged, donned in the standard black and white apron known from their trade. She left holding folded blankets, probably the dirty laundry replaced with fresh.

That must be the master bedroom, or one of them at least. Now was just a matter of getting past the maid, now dusting the menagerie of frames, clocks, and small statues littering the hallway’s table.

As the maid dusted, Kathiya focused on the candle. It was like making a connection between two objects, and required some concentration. It flickered and eventually faded, leaving the maid succumbed to darkness. She searched around her apron, looking for matches, when Kathiya slithered her way under the table, silent as a shadow, and slipped through the door before the maid could relight the candle.

This was easy, much easier than she expected. It was like slipping on a glove you’re still the right size for. She didn’t want to be ding it, but it felt so good and she was so good at it.

No one to show how good she was, but the billowing drapes from an open window, rippling in the air from the faint sea breeze.

The bed had curtains. She never understood why. Surely closing the actual window drapes would be enough, wouldn’t they? Maybe it was a rich person thing. If you have wealth, you must show it off. So, you attach curtains to your bed.

The room alone was bigger than most homes she had seen. Certainly bigger than the hunting lodge where she and her father had lived through many unkind winters.

She prowled the decorative room, rifling through drawerers and cupboards for anything of significant value.

That’s when she spied it sat upon the powdering station. A guilded little box, speckled with the image of golden flowers. Held in place only by a simple and easy to pull apart lock.

A jewelry box!

Perfect!

This was a great score, and she loved the way the lamplight refracted through each gem. She held out her hand, a dazzling stone sitting between each finger, and she held it up to the darkened sky.

What was it Sethel said before? Something about the hardest part being “getting away with it?” Crazy lizard. That’s the easiest part.

A hand appeared from seemingly nowhere and gripped her by the wrist, gems dropping to the ground.

‘Well, well, well, and just what do we have here?’ Some large creature in a well-used guard uniform held her arm. Another stood by, arms folded, remaining silent. ‘Now just where has someone like you found something like these?’

‘These are mine! I found them!’

‘Where? In someone else’s house?’

‘Nooo…’

‘You’re coming with us, by order of the city watch.’