A/N: (takes a deep breath) Okay, I have a lot to say before I start this story.
First, to anyone and everyone who's read my other stories. I swear I will finish this one. I have the outline and a couple chapters already.
Second: This story has no real plot. Its only purpose is for me to play with Tamora Pierce's wonderful characters. If that bothers you… read it anyway. You might like it.
Thirdly, gave me a hell of a time uploading this. I have always gotten along well with the Document Manager, and yesterday it turned its back on me (sniff). Why Why?
Fourthly, this takes place during Alanna: The First Adventure. But as of now, Alanna has no role in it.
Lastly…
Enjoy!
Prologue: Mara
Mara slipped back into the shadows, pressing the priceless vase she held against her chest. The shadow of the wall hid her for now, but the moon was rising; soon anyone with eyes would be able to see her.
She edged along the wall, staying in the darkness and creeping towards the door. No one was supposed to be home yet. She had done very careful research when planning this particular theft, and barring a catastrophe of cataclysmic proportions, the merchant whose house she was in and his wife should still be at the opera. They had only one maid who was sound asleep, leaving magic to protect the valuables they owned.
So there was only one reason for the muffled sounds coming from the front of the house. She darted out of the room, following the noise. She wanted to be certain.
The men -- at least two of them -- were just a room away from her now. She listened intently.
"C'mon, 'Fingers, let's get what we came for," one of them hissed, so soft that Mara could barely hear.
She recoiled at the words. The Rogue's men. She glanced protectively at the vase she held, deciding what to do. Make a run for it, and not care who heard her? Or sneak away more slowly, and risk them catching her?
What little Gift she had was drained from removing the wards around the vase, and she had spent the day on the run from more of the Rogue's men: she was exhausted. She would have very little to fight with if they caught her.
Suppressing a curse, she decided to get further away from the room with the Rogue's men in it, then run. She didn't want them to catch her.
She slunk away, careful not to make a noise. The fate of an independent thief caught by the Court of the Rogue was not a pretty one.
The door behind her swung open, and Mara threw herself around the nearest corner, rolling as she fell to protect the vase. Then she ran for it.
The others must have seen her before she could hide; they chased after her. Heedless now, she flung open the front door and dashed outside, then stopped short.
The body of her lookout lay unmoving at her feet.
"Dammit, Johnny," she swore softy, feeling for his pulse. Johnny was the only one she could trust to always have her back.
As she realized he was still alive, she jumped to her feet. There was nothing she could do for him now. She would have to leave and pray for the best.
As she disappeared into the darkness, Lightfingers and his companion reached the doorway. They caught barely a glimpse of her, but it was enough. George Cooper would have her description before the night was over.
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