"Alright, little ones, listen up." Mama casually balanced a knife on her finger as she spoke, eyeing it lazily. "You brought in a nice haul the other day; it should keep us fed for quite some time. However, it has been said that idle hands are mischievous, and I believe that maxim. Therefore, I'm sending you out again tomorrow."
The children were disappointed at hearing that. They'd been hoping for a little vacation. Galley, in particular, had looked forward to practising with his newly bought moonstone.
"Your target will be the local garrison. I've heard that its new commander is quite lax when it comes to security. Get it through whatever means necessary, steal as much as possible while the troops are still on patrol – I've timed the excursion for lunchtime, so half the regiment will be working and the other munching away in the mess – and get back out. Do not spend any longer than twenty minutes, you hear me? I imagine descriptions of the lot of you from last night's debacle are circulating already."
"Yeah, worm, no longer than twenty minutes, yeah?" Mimicking Mama's violent derision, Tricks thumped Squim soundly over the head with her fist. He moaned and cursed at her, scrambling away to hide behind the half repaired birdcage.
Mama cast a cold glance at Squim. "This one will not be accompanying you. He will spend the day with me, brushing up on my rules. Isn't that right, child?"
Squim shuddered and said nothing. Internally, every child present sympathised with the misshapen creature: Mama's re education sessions were often quite brutal, if soft spoken.
"You may spend the rest of the day as you please. Dinner will be on at six." Mama dismissed them all with a wave of her hand, turning to a bit of sewing. Tricks joined her, voluntarily: Mama was like a mentor to the young girl, whom Tricks had learned to imitate with fair accuracy. Deep within herself, however, Tricks would never boast the kind of cruelty than dwelt in Mama. Her heart was kind, even if her exterior was gruff. Squim abandoned the hole in search of entertainment of his own devising, making sure that the other two boys didn't follow him.
They weren't. Instead, Galley grabbed hold of Marlo's patchwork sweater and dragged him out into the sewers. He threw his compatriot a lopsided grin and motioned for Marlo to follow him. Curious, Marlo complied. They ran down the tunnels, single file, Galley impatient to try his toy out and Marlo wondering what the devil the other boy had planned. It would be something neat, of course: Marlo had no doubt of that. Galley was inventive and bold. He never failed to provide some intriguing course of action to Marlo, a fact for which the slightly older boy was thankful: were it not for Galley, Marlo probably would have killed himself by now. The tedium and despair of a thief's life would be too much to bear alone.
Winding their way into a culvert beneath the marketplace – Galley had wanted to be sure that Mama would not find out – Galley came to a halt, seating himself upon the rough stones of the sewer. Marlo sat opposite him, pushing aside a dead rat that lay a little too close for comfort. It slid into the water with a sickening plop and floated away.
"Whatcha wanna do?" inquired Marlo, his curiosity piqued.
Galley gazed down the tunnel a ways, merely to assure himself, and placed one grimy hand into his pocket. He did not, however, withdraw the cool stone that his fingers had wrapped themselves around.
"Ever seen a moonstone before, Marlo?"
Marlo shook his head in the negative.
"Ever wanted to?"
Marlo nodded, though that was a lie. The compulsion had never once come over him – however, he had no intention of disappointing Galley.
"Today's yer lucky day!" Galley proclaimed, bringing the polished gem out for all present to see. It brightened the dimly light tunnel considerably, casting jagged shadows on the walls. Marlo's eyes grew wide in shock. How the devil had Galley gotten his paws on a moonstone?
"Beaut, eh?" Galley said, proudly. His chest was puffed. Marlo nodded, running his index finger carefully across the surface of the stone. He could feel little pricks of magical energy dancing across his skin. It looked like one of the moons. Or so he imagined, anyway: he'd never actually managed to see a moon before. Valua was perpetually covered in clouds, after all.
"What're you gonna do with it?"
Galley sniffed and tipped his cap up. "What else, eh? I'm gonna learn magic!"
"Wow." Marlo folded his fingers together. His eyes never left the moonstone.
They both sat a while, gazing into the whirling depths of the stone. The light it cast slid casually across the walls, forever circling so long as the stone contained power.
There was silence for several minutes before Marlo spoke again.
"How?"
Galley blinked. His genius mind had never considered that before.
"Um. Well. . . maybe if I just try. . ."
Clutching the stone tightly, Galley stretched out one hand towards the wall. He envisioned it exploding violently. Much to his disappointment, however, it remained fixed firmly in place, slime and all.
Marlo tapped the stone, a gesture that earned him a gentle swat from Galley. "Hey, you'll break it."
"Sorry."
Galley tried harder this time, imagining the wall melting away into thousands of silver shards. Nothing happened. The lad strained his mind as much as possible, hoping to tap into the power that lay in his hand: however, naught came of it, aside from a slight headache. He slumped back in defeat.
"How much'd you pay for that?"
