The Den of Thieves (I)
It was a dark night with a blue-black sky sprinkled with porcelain stars. They reminded me of the shine off the doorknobs in the morning; just a pinpoint of light that always seems to blind you at the most inopportune times. I looked up at Devin who had climbed up the edge of building and was balancing lightly on the precipice below the roof. The golden light in the window blinked out and left all but Devin’s left black glove blending with the dark blue shadows and blotting out a single star.
He swung into the window and crept across the carpeted floor, his feet making barely audible patters in the carpeting. The drawer was a little heavier than he anticipated, but he slid it out slowly. The large ruby sat glittering in the small light on the bottom of the drawer and he expertly lifted it from its case and placed it in the sack attached to his belt. Just as silently, he replaced the drawer and snuck out the window, shimmying down the drainpipe at the corner of the building and hitting ground with a quiet pat.
He glanced up at the window and sighed. His hands fell to his sides gently and for a moment innocence returned. But just like a bucket of water was dropped on his head, he ran down the streets and through the shadows until the rich district merged to West End. He stopped at the back door of a bustling saloon and knocked four times rapidly. The door opened flooding the purple alleyway in orange light.
“What do you want?” A tall boy with milk-chocolate brown hair and freckles opened the door and leaned against it looking Devin up and down critically. His newsboy cap was tilted at a rakish angle and his shirt was half tucked into his patched gray pants. A silver mouse curled around the back of his neck and peered at me with scarlet eyes. Recognizing Devin, the boy crouched down a bit and whispered, “You got it?”
“Yeah,” Devin panted lifting up the sack and handing it to the boy. The one at the door opened the sack and dropped the fist-sized ruby into his hand. His blue eyes sparkled and he tucked it into a pocket on his belt.
“All right, come on in.”
Devin walked in cautiously and headed where the boy pointed, to a door hidden from the bustle of the kitchen behind storage shelves. The crackle of stove fires and clanking pots and pans hid the creaking door as it opened and kept the adults oblivious to the two boys slipping out of their presence.
The cellar was a dirty and cold labyrinth that the boy led Devin through to another door in the far corner of the room. The room reeked of rats and old dusty wine, but the age did not undermine its silence. The freckled boy pushed the door open and stood outside, smiling mischievously.
“Welcome to the Den of Thieves!” he said cheerfully.
Devin was more awestruck than anything. The room was not very large, about half the size of the cellar we crossed, but was lit by at least a hundred candles all behind pieces of wine bottles giving the room ghostly colors by which to maim the guests. Most were in ratty clothes and bare feet, but a few were fairly well dressed and dapper. Eyes watched Devin as he nervously and instinctively went towards the back corner where a few trays of food were lay out for the feasting.
“So who’s the new kid, John?” someone yelled from across the room.
“Devin Hasslehoff,” the freckled boy answered proudly. “He’s a bestiafama, too.”
“Yeah, we see why you like ‘im,” someone retorted bringing nervous and angry laughter into the room. Devin tried to sink farther back into the shadows.
The room smelled like dirt and smoked cheese and meat. The putrid smell of wine lingered with the wax from the burning candles. But none of these were as strong as odor of humans who hadn’t bathed, which was not surprising given the dress of these children. John made a retort back and the festivities continued with laughing and singing. Devin was nervous, but he remained in the corner, out of sight and out of mind.
“You must be a great thief to be chosen by the king’s right hand man,” a voice said softly and sweetly over the din. Devin looked up and turned an impressive shade of scarlet. The voice belonged to a very pretty girl; everything about her was dainty. Her hair was a pallid yellow like the color of fire and her eyes a water-like blue-gray. There was a little smudge of dirt against her left cheek that extended the length of her almond shaped eyes. She sat down next to Devin calmly.
“The king?” Devin managed to say. He swallowed deeply.
“King of Thieves. Isn’t that why you’re here?” She frowned slightly.
“I—”
The truth was that Devin simply wanted a place to eat and sleep. But his explanation was cut short by the silence in the room as everyone shuffled to the side of it to make an isle for the people at the door.
“Make way for the king!” a short ash-haired boy yelled from the doorway. He stood aside and tapped a large stick on the ground. John came in next and walked towards the back. The girl had gotten out of the way quickly, but Devin, not knowing what to expect, wasn’t quite quick enough. John grabbed his arm and pushed him to the side into a group of standing people. The group swayed and struggled to keep upright. Though everyone frowned and swore under his or her breath, no one made a louder noise. I slipped between people’s legs and sat on a shelf between to candles that had burned out and watched.
The boy, who came in after John, was taller and older than most of the ones in the room. He had pitch-black hair with equally dark eyes that sparkled boyishly. On his shoulder was a rather large raven with a piece red ribbon tied around its neck. It spotted me and bowed ever so slightly before swiveling its head around to catch the rest of the crowd. The boy was dressing in clean cotton with a dagger at his side and a paring knife attached to his boot. His procession took a turn to the left and he sat down in the chair waiting for him at the back of the room.
“Long live the king!” everyone shouted at he sat down. He smiled mischievously and waved his hand. Everyone sat down on the floor where they were and I noticed Devin being quick to follow suit this time.
“Well, well, well,” the boy in the chair said. Everyone relaxed a bit. “Sir John tells me there’s fresh blood tonight.” Titters filled the room. “Bring him to me.”
John reached into the crowd at the same time dirty arms pushed him up and Devin was dragged into the middle of the isle. The king smiled.
“Is he good?”
“Best I’ve found.”
I jumped down from my perch and sat beside Devin. He was looking a little pale at that moment, but still standing strong. I rubbed my head against his hand gently. The raven looked down at me but I did my best to puff up and stand proud.
The king noticed me and then snapped his head towards John. His dark eyes were panicked and he pulled John close so fast he lost balance and hit the chair hard with his other hand in an effort to keep still. He blushed and then straightened up, grabbing the ruby from his pouch and handing it to the king. The other boy frowned before the arrogant look settled in and he handed it back to John.
He cleared his throat subtly and looked down the bridge of his nose at Devin. “Welcome to the den,” he said with a tinge of hatred. Everyone cheered and clapped from the isle. He stood up and turned to John, “I’ll talk with the you, later and bring your latest pet.”
