Alex stepped out into the day, squinting a bit at the bright light of the
sun. He had spent the day hunched over the dusty tomes that the museum's
library had to offer. He carried some of these in the knapsack slung over
his shoulder, though he expected they'd provide as little information as
the ones he'd left behind. He made his way down the steps and into the
crowd heading for the market place. He'd promised Emma gifts, and he knew
he'd better get a head start.
He didn't mind being jostled as people moved through the narrow corridors of the bazaar. He had complete awareness of his person, and would know in an instant if anyone tired to take from his pockets. He paused by a stall that sold trinkets, his eyes scanning for something that might catch his sister's eye. His gaze caught on an unusual box, slightly octagon in shape. It was dark with age, and tarnish. He reached for it, startled when the shopkeeper, having noticed his interest, quickly snatched it up and pressed it into his hand.
"A gift perhaps? For someone special to you?"
"Maybe." Alex said thoughtfully, turning the box over in his hands. Something about it was familiar, but he couldn't bring it forth in his memory. "How much?"
So the haggling began. Pretty soon he had the box tucked into his pocket, and was on his way to the next stall. He did not see the gaze that followed him from the recesses of the alleyway as he continued his search for Emma's gift.
He was near the end of the market place when something hard crashed down against the back of his head. He fell to his knees, his vision beginning to gray as he fought against the hands trying to pull the knapsack from his back. He heard shouts as he blacked out; all he saw was a robed figure hurrying away.
.He was awakened by a light touch on his cheek, and a soothing voice speaking his name. He opened his eyes, seeing only a robed figure through his blurry gaze. He had his gun out in an instant, pointing it with a shaky hand directly at the figure.
"Is that any way to greet your favorite aunt?" Rebecca asked, amusement lighting her face at the horrified look that crossed his face when he realized whom it was he held at gunpoint.
"Aunt Becky." Alex groaned, re-holstering his gun immediately. "Please tell me Ardeth isn't here, because if he saw me do that he will kill me."
"I am here." Ardeth said, concern was making his voice stern as he crouched beside his wife. "I will wait to kill you until you are on your feet."
"Thanks, I appreciated that." Alex said wryly. He sat up, leaning into Rebecca as she slid an arm around his shoulders. "The bastard stole my bag."
"What was in it?" Ardeth asked, rising to his full height as Rebecca and Alex stood.
"Nothing important. Just some books I thought might be interesting. I keep the important stuff in my pockets."
He patted said pockets, verifying that his papers and money were still where they belonged. He felt the lump of the box he had purchased and smiled, thinking that at least the gift he'd bought Emma was still with him.
"It will be a disappointed thief then." Ardeth said, seeing the relief that filled his wife's face as the color returned to Alex's.
"When did you get here?" Alex asked, wincing as a drum started up in his head. He was grateful for the company as they mad their way back through the throng.
"We arrived at the museum shortly after you left. Amanda mentioned you were coming to the marketplace. We heard the commotion." Rebecca explained.
"Of course, we knew it had to be you." Ardeth broke in, a grin lighting his usually serious face. "You are your father's son, after all."
Alex grinned; wincing as the movement made his head aches that much more fiercely.
"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back at Jonathan's:
Jonathan perched on the edge of the table as Alex emptied his pockets; worry deepening the lines in his forehead as he watched his nephew. If anything happened to Alex while he was here, he'd never forgive himself. Neither would Rick. He did not relish the thought of what his brother-in- law might do were he to let anything happen to his son. He saw the cloth wrapped object that Alex set down and he reached over to pick it up.
"What's this?" He asked, turning it in his hands.
"A trinket box, I think." Alex replied, reassured that all his money and identification was still in his possession. "I thought Emma might like it."
"Can I look?"
"Go ahead." Alex said, even though Jonathan had already begun to unwrap it.
"Good Lord, boy. Where did you find this?" Jonathan asked, horrified as he realized what he held in his hand.
"At the market. Why? What's wrong Uncle Jon?"
"You've found a bloody key, that's what is wrong." Jonathan said, his thumb pushing in the tiny button hidden in the side.
It sprang open, revealing the familiar star-shaped pattern.
He didn't mind being jostled as people moved through the narrow corridors of the bazaar. He had complete awareness of his person, and would know in an instant if anyone tired to take from his pockets. He paused by a stall that sold trinkets, his eyes scanning for something that might catch his sister's eye. His gaze caught on an unusual box, slightly octagon in shape. It was dark with age, and tarnish. He reached for it, startled when the shopkeeper, having noticed his interest, quickly snatched it up and pressed it into his hand.
"A gift perhaps? For someone special to you?"
"Maybe." Alex said thoughtfully, turning the box over in his hands. Something about it was familiar, but he couldn't bring it forth in his memory. "How much?"
So the haggling began. Pretty soon he had the box tucked into his pocket, and was on his way to the next stall. He did not see the gaze that followed him from the recesses of the alleyway as he continued his search for Emma's gift.
He was near the end of the market place when something hard crashed down against the back of his head. He fell to his knees, his vision beginning to gray as he fought against the hands trying to pull the knapsack from his back. He heard shouts as he blacked out; all he saw was a robed figure hurrying away.
.He was awakened by a light touch on his cheek, and a soothing voice speaking his name. He opened his eyes, seeing only a robed figure through his blurry gaze. He had his gun out in an instant, pointing it with a shaky hand directly at the figure.
"Is that any way to greet your favorite aunt?" Rebecca asked, amusement lighting her face at the horrified look that crossed his face when he realized whom it was he held at gunpoint.
"Aunt Becky." Alex groaned, re-holstering his gun immediately. "Please tell me Ardeth isn't here, because if he saw me do that he will kill me."
"I am here." Ardeth said, concern was making his voice stern as he crouched beside his wife. "I will wait to kill you until you are on your feet."
"Thanks, I appreciated that." Alex said wryly. He sat up, leaning into Rebecca as she slid an arm around his shoulders. "The bastard stole my bag."
"What was in it?" Ardeth asked, rising to his full height as Rebecca and Alex stood.
"Nothing important. Just some books I thought might be interesting. I keep the important stuff in my pockets."
He patted said pockets, verifying that his papers and money were still where they belonged. He felt the lump of the box he had purchased and smiled, thinking that at least the gift he'd bought Emma was still with him.
"It will be a disappointed thief then." Ardeth said, seeing the relief that filled his wife's face as the color returned to Alex's.
"When did you get here?" Alex asked, wincing as a drum started up in his head. He was grateful for the company as they mad their way back through the throng.
"We arrived at the museum shortly after you left. Amanda mentioned you were coming to the marketplace. We heard the commotion." Rebecca explained.
"Of course, we knew it had to be you." Ardeth broke in, a grin lighting his usually serious face. "You are your father's son, after all."
Alex grinned; wincing as the movement made his head aches that much more fiercely.
"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back at Jonathan's:
Jonathan perched on the edge of the table as Alex emptied his pockets; worry deepening the lines in his forehead as he watched his nephew. If anything happened to Alex while he was here, he'd never forgive himself. Neither would Rick. He did not relish the thought of what his brother-in- law might do were he to let anything happen to his son. He saw the cloth wrapped object that Alex set down and he reached over to pick it up.
"What's this?" He asked, turning it in his hands.
"A trinket box, I think." Alex replied, reassured that all his money and identification was still in his possession. "I thought Emma might like it."
"Can I look?"
"Go ahead." Alex said, even though Jonathan had already begun to unwrap it.
"Good Lord, boy. Where did you find this?" Jonathan asked, horrified as he realized what he held in his hand.
"At the market. Why? What's wrong Uncle Jon?"
"You've found a bloody key, that's what is wrong." Jonathan said, his thumb pushing in the tiny button hidden in the side.
It sprang open, revealing the familiar star-shaped pattern.