Page 61 of Dishonor Among Thieves
The late fall sun warmed my back, the light breeze carrying fresh, cold air down from the mountains in the east. If I breathed deeply, I could still scent hints of smoke clinging to the loose hair that escaped my hood and danced before my face. Soon, all traces of the foundling home would be washed from my skin. That would be a start toward healing the pains in my heart.
As we rode, Neo and I traded looks and smiles but spoke little. There would be much to do when we returned to the manor, and I was grateful for the time to be quiet. Without the charm around my neck, there was nothing tying me to my past but my memories, and the long ride through the sunshine seemed the perfect time for my thoughts to run free.
Despite the comforting rhythm of Sara’s walk and lighthearted conversations around me, I could not stop the flood of memories. I saw the faces of so many children over the years as I wondered where they were now. If they’d found loving, happy lives. Or if, like me, they looked back on their own history as a dark and chilling tale. Guilt over the ways in which I’d perfected my skills as a thief heated my cheeks and brought my chin low, as if I could duck beneath my hood and hide from myself.
Gini hadn’t just taught me well; she relied on me. Any family seeking to adopt a foundling would undergo an interview in their home. While Gini played the part of the concerned guardian, I would be sent with the child to explore the place they might—if the adoption was approved—call their new home. As I explored, I had one mission: searching hearths, pouches, under beds, in drawers.
Gini was certain that if the family did ever notice a valuable item had gone missing, they would never think to blame the innocent girl who’d held the hand of their future adopted child. The house sister tasked with making the process of leaving the foundling home for a new life easier. Gini could have used her illusions to ensure we were never caught, but that became messy and complicated to maintain. She preferred to use her magic only as a last resort, so the burden of becoming a capable thief fell entirely to me.
I was instructed to take as much as I could find. Nothing that held sentimental value, of course, as those items would be missed almost immediately. Jewelry and easily identifiable items were less attractive to Gini, who would have a hard time explaining how she’d come by the merchandise when she tried to sell them in the village. That meant quickly observing and deciding what to steal, as well as what to leave.
In the early years, I’d felt sick with guilt over things I’d taken. Eating blades, cutlery, loose hair pins… Anything small enough to be carried away in my sleeve or a pouch beneath my cloak.
For a short time in my late teens, I became more daring. Willing to risk being caught if only to spite Gini. I’d pick up an item and ask a question about it. Admire its beauty or condition. That way later when that item was missing, the family would remember my interest and maybe, just maybe, come to the foundling home to investigate or accuse. But the beatings I’d received once Gini and I returned home quickly cured me of the thrill of rebellion.
I eventually soothed my aching conscience by taking only those items that I was certain would never be missed. I took more from those who could spare it—the wealthier parents who would likely blame a single missing spoon on the carelessness of a butler rather than the sticky fingers of a houseguest.
And there were times a family had simply nothing of value but food. In those cases, I risked the most severe penalties from Gini. If she’d decided I could have taken an entire loaf of bread but I’d decided to leave it behind for a family who clearly had stretched their means to provide the food to us, I would be denied any food for a day. Never so long as to be noticed by the other children, but long enough that I would suffer for my lack of compliance.
Misery bent my shoulders and lowered my chin as I thought about all the crimes I had committed over the years. And now, I was married to a thief, although I had very little idea whether Neo actually stole anything. As far as I was concerned, brokering deals with goblins and raiding for treasure sunk deep in the sandy shores of Tutovl was far from criminal activity.
I felt Neo’s gaze on me, heavy and curious, but I put a smile on my face and refused to reveal the depths of my shame. I wondered if there was a way to heal me of the evils I’d committed, or if guilt would bend my back for the rest of my life. The thoughts echoed in time with the hoofbeats of the horses until finally, we reached the road that would lead us home.
By the time we arrived at the manor, the children were too excited to stay seated. Tabby and Kiva stood as Flynn directed the cart toward the front gate, which was being ably repaired by Syndrian.
Neo leapt down from his horse and clapped the man on the shoulder. “This is most unexpected,” he said. “You’re a versatile craftsman, Syndrian.”
The big man grunted and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. His light hair was tied back to expose the shaved sides of his head, several lengths of leather binding the long hair in segments behind his back like a horse’s tail. “I hadn’t planned to fix this,” he admitted, “but my mother sent me looking for Flynn when he didn’t return home last night.”
Neo shook his head, an apologetic frown on his face. “I’m sorry to have worried your mother. Flynn is an indispensable help to us.”
“Right glad to hear that.” Syndrian took note of the five foundlings, two of whom were climbing on Flynn’s lap, and twisted his lips into a smirk. “I noticed you had some damage here, and with the visitor inside and none but the butler at home, I figured I’d stay.” He cocked his chin at Neo. “To be fair, the man says he’s a friend, but I don’t have a good feeling about him.”
At the news that there was a visitor, the entire party seemed to tense.
“Syn, none but the butler is at home? Do you happen know where my sister is?” Gia asked.
He nodded. “Ms. Antonia said Molle Noll called her to assist a troublesome birth.”
“The midwife,” Gia said, nodding. She threw a nervous look at Rain and handed him the reins to her horse. “I’ll summon Dale to help with the horses and find out what’s going on inside.”
Neo was steps ahead of her, already striding through the front door of the manor.
“Thank you for your trouble, Syndrian.” Rain clapped the man on the shoulder. “Please, stay and let us pay you for the work.”
Syndrian waved a hand dismissing the offer. He gave his brother a look, while I fought a rising panic. I called to Kiva and handed her the reins to both Sara and Sedda. “Hold these until I’m back, okay?” I asked. “I’ll be just a moment.”
“My brother and I will take care of all this.” Syndrian’s eyes were wide as baby Fina started cooing and reaching to be picked up from the cart.
“Thank you,” I said, wishing I could tell him what fine instruments his throwing knives were. But that conversation, if we ever had it, would have to wait.
I rushed up the stone stairs, passing Dale on his way out.
“Welcome back, milady!”
I had so many questions, but Dale’s chipper demeanor settled the tension in my shoulders to a tolerable tightness. “Is everything all right inside?” I asked.
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Couldn’t be better. See for yourself! Your patient is at rest, and Neo’s got a visit from an old friend.” He narrowed his eyes at the children climbing over Flynn’s lap and the toddler Syndrian was holding like the girl was a mess of quivering shapeless goo that he didn’t know quite how to keep still. “I see we have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll attend to the horses.”
