Lady Blackfeather had workmen assist in installing Kara in a small shed with a cot, a basin of wash water, and an impressively huge meal.  Lady Blackfeather did not let any of the other children in, but sat herself with Kara for a little while.  Kara had the strong feeling that she should not try anything with Lady Blackfeather.  There was something about her that said she had strength beyond the obvious six workmen outside.

            “Did you drug the food?  You seem to really want me to eat it,” Kara said, sniffing at the dinner items.  She glared at Lady Blackfeather.

            “You’ve had a bad life, I take it,” Lady Blackfeather said, looking regretful.  “I promise we have not altered the food.  I know that’s not enough, but do believe that we want you conscious and answering some questions later this evening.  And perhaps cleaner than you are now.”

            Kara snorted.

            Lady Blackfeather brought out a bundle of clean clothing.  “Djaren outgrew these last year.  You could use some things in your own size.  I also noted that when you were kicking, your boot soles were coming off.  If you will refrain from using these on my children, I give them to you.”  The lady held out a pair of sturdy black work boots.

            “Are you trying to bribe me?” Kara asked.

            “No, dear, to mother you.  It’s a bad habit, I know, but I can’t help it.”  Lady Blackfeather smiled.  “I have a soft spot for tortured and lonely souls.  And plucky children.  You deserve better than this.”

            She brushed an old bruise on Kara’s face and Kara flinched back, ready to lash out. 

            “You don’t have to go back to them,” Lady Blackfeather said.

            “Don’t waste your pity.  I’m not impressed,” Kara growled.  “Go feed a kitten or something and leave me alone.”

            Lady Blackfeather sighed.  “The offer still stands.  Make what you will of it.  Doctor Blackfeather will see you later, when he returns.”

            Kara did not like the sound of that.  She distrusted doctors immensely.  As soon as Lady Blackfeather had left she sniffed at the food, and finding no suspicious odors she devoured as much of it as she could.  The rest she stuffed into the pillow case.  She splashed a little of the wash water on her face and neck to keep cool, and drank some more of it.  She did get into the new clothes and boots, and found them to her liking.  They were in dark colors, good and sturdy, with a little repair work here and there.  Both knees of the trousers had carefully sewn patches.  She kept her big coat and filled the pockets with leftovers and some of the nicer looking dinner dishes.  There was no silver, unfortunately, only wooden utensils.  Kara took them anyway, and began using them to dig at the rear corner of the shed. 

            Through cracks between boards, she noted where the workmen were watching.  She waited patiently and kept digging, and was rewarded by seeing them move a little further off into the shade as the sun progressed across the sky.  One of them at last dozed off, and it was time.  Kara wriggled through the hole she’d made in the corner, and emerged silent and dirt covered behind the shed, near the sleeping workman. She dragged the pillow case of food out after her and crept through the camp to where the carriage horses were picketed.  She untethered one and climbed up onto its back.  She would come back to steal something later, but now she was already late.  Her contacts would be meeting their employers tonight and handing over the rock they had stolen.  Kara raced off on horseback, into gathering twilight.

            It was fully night when she reached the meeting place.  Torchlight flickered in the darkness ahead.  She climbed off the horse, sent it on its way with a slap, and crept up to the rendezvous, a hollow amid old ruins, silent and listening.  There were voices.  She recognized Negal’s voice and that of the old man Himar.  They sounded nervous.  A bad smell hung in the air, strange and acrid and rotting.  Kara moved closer, still silent.  She peered out between two stones and saw a group of figures in the firelight.  A tall, robed man with an unfamiliar voice spoke.  The voice was hoarse, wet, and rasping.  The accents and enunciation reminded Kara of the place she’d come from, of slums in the shadows of great crumbling temples, of crowds and crying children, and people with nothing left to steal living beside palaces.  That accent belonged to past and nightmares, not here.

“You have brought it here?”

            “Yes, lord,” Negal said, “and we want our payment.”  Negal stood with his band of a dozen thieves, facing a group of twenty men in dark, hooded robes.  The stolen stone sat upon the ground between them.

            “And what,” the large man with the terrible voice asked, “do you think the worth of a rock is?”

            “You promised, lord, to reward us well.  You asked for this stone.”

            “I did.”  His voice cut off, followed by a sniffing sound.  His hooded head moved from side to side and turned in Kara’s direction. “Something watches,” the voice said.  “Someone is here.”

            “We were unfollowed,” old Himar said.  “We never betray a bargain.  We are honest thieves.”

            “What a term.”  The horrible voice made a wheezing sound Kara realized was laughter.  The smell grew stronger as the hooded figure began to move toward Kara’s hiding place.  She froze, staring.  One hand emerged from the figure’s robe, visible in the torchlight.  It was the arm of a rotting corpse. 

            “Lord!” Negal gasped.

            Kara was about to run, but was interrupted by a sudden rush of wind, as something huge swooped down low overhead.  The thieves did not seem to notice, but the robed stranger did.  He hissed in fury.  “The sky!  He is here!  Fire!”

            All the robed figures brought out things from under their robes--rifles.  The thieves fled as the robed men began firing wildly into the black sky.  It was deafening.  The corpse man brought out a rifle as well and used it with a more studied aim.  Kara caught a glimpse of one milky white eye.  She clapped both hands over her ears and ran, along with the other thieves, for cover, for safety.  A muffled gasp came from above, and something wet fell on her hand.  She squinted at it and saw black droplets.  She ran faster, losing herself in the night.

©2007 Ruth Lampi