Tristan J. Tarwater - Thieves at Heart (The Valley of Ten Crescents, Book 1)

CHAPTER 1

Out of The Dregs

Tavi, I really wish you weighed more, girl. You can never pull these things tight enough! Prisca the Tart stood up from the bed, examining the ties of the corset in the full length mirror. A look of disappointment came over the woman's highly painted face as she looked over the leather chords that criss-crossed her back. Come now, sweets, use those tiny fingers of yours and fix what you've done.

Yes, mam, came the quiet voice, the girl's head bowed as she went to work. The little girl was tall for what her face said her age was and skinny, her hair dark and greasy, barely long enough to cover her slightly pointed ears. One of them had been mutilated; where there was supposed to be a point was instead a straight line, pink and tender where a knife had cut the cartilage away. Her hair had been shaved a few weeks back to get rid of lice. Can't have bugs hopping about when I'm on business, Prisca had said as she had shaved the knotty black locks off. Tavi remembered how she looked in the mirror after the haircut and how she had cried so pitifully, her sunken in eyes becoming bloodshot and her face smudged with dirt and tears. Prisca had tried to comfort her by assuring her that she wasn't the only girl on the Row who had had to get her hair cut off before and that a dip in lice-kill would have been worse. Slender, nimble fingers tugged at the chords that were already warm from the woman's body heat, and the little girl coughed slightly as she worked, pulling back on the ties as hard as she could.

You're not coming down with something now, are you? Prisca asked, breathing in sharply as the little girl found a very loose spot and tugged hard. The minute you start feeling ill, you must let me know so I can get you something for it. Can't have sickness about, you know.

Just clearing my throat, mam she said, untying the tie she had made at the top and placing her tiny foot on the woman's ample backside, leaning back with all of what was her weight and grunting as she did so, the woman holding onto the bed frame as she did so. The girl frowned with a mouth that was slightly too big for her face though a pretty shape, and she carefully tied a bow at the bottom, making sure the chords were the same length at the ends. I still don't understand why I have to do this if you're to take it off anyway?

Oh, Tavi dear. Satisfied with the tautness of the garment, the woman turned to look in the mirror again, tucking a blonde curl behind one ear while letting another fall across her face. You're a bit young to understand, but I'll teach you in time. I don't know how you elfy ones grow, but I suspect sooner than later you'll be ready to answer calls, with the Priestess' blessing. But you really must start eating more and eating the things I tell you to. You're far too thin! Can't have men thinking they'll snap you in two.

A bell above the door chimed, the dented metal causing it to ring strangely as it did. Prisca clapped her hands merrily, reaching over for a vial of scented oil she had been gifted recently. It smelled like something Tavi had smelled before but couldn't place. Prisca said it was distilled moonflower and something the girl had never heard of that made men wild. The woman turned the bottle over on her finger and dabbed between her breasts before running the still shining finger across her neck, the way someone might do to indicate that they were going to slit someone's throat. She placed the bottle back on the bed stand; it had been a gift from the person she was expecting and she had told Tavi it was good to have gifts out when the customers came. Excitement made the woman bounce up and down on the mattress, her hands clasped over her heart as she did. This could be it! I think it is. Make yourself scarce now and have at it, you know what to do. Before the Tart was even done with her orders, the little girl had ducked into the space between the walls as always, careful to place the upholstered chair close enough to the secret hiding place so that she could reach it easily and to hide her as she did her task.

When she had originally started picking the pockets of customers for Prisca the Tart, the anticipation had always filled her with fear and excitement. After a few months of sliding back the hidden panel and rummaging around for coins, charms or other things the men would never report to the local authorities, it became mundane, almost easy. However, today was different. Tonight was the New Moon, and as Prisca the Tart had always done on the New Moon, she and Brass Sera and Kind Gia had gone down to the soothsayer to have their fortunes told for the month. The soothsayer, wizened with time, hands curled with the tightening sickness had turned over the cards for Prisca and informed her that from a secret place, a boon would be in her room before the moon went down. Dark, young eyes could make her benefactor out from behind the false wall, see her large bosom rise and fall with each breath. Tavi couldn't let her mam down. Her stomach fluttered as she considered what good fortune would come their way. What would the men have in their pockets? Maybe someone with a good deal of money would take Prisca into his pocket and by default, Tavi would be lucky as well. Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips, waiting, her heart pounding as the sound of booted feet came closer.

The door opened and for a moment, no one walked in. Then Prisca clapped her hands joyfully and the man entered, closing the door behind him. She thought she recognized the boots and strained her ear to listen to what the grown ups were saying.

Ah, Priscabeautiful as always, came the deep voice, muffled slightly by distance and wood. His boots were well worn but had once been fine, a deep mahogany brown color that was offset with tarnished, metal buckles. There was something funny about the heels of the boots and the sound they made whenever he walked in, but the girl could never quite place her finger on it. Prisca stood up from the bed, only to stop short, laughing raucously as the man rushed towards her and threw her down onto the straw filled mattress.

This was the part that Tavi was interested in, though not for the reason other people would have had a listen or peeped in. Sometimes Prisca and her clients would talk for a while, the Tart pouring them a glass of beer perhaps or allowing them to read her things they had written. The more time they spent doing this, the longer Tavi had to sit in the wall, waiting for an opportune time to get to work. On one occasion a fellow had talked to her mam for so long, Tavi's legs had both fallen asleep to the point that Prisca had to pry her out of the wall, laughing the whole time and apologizing to the crying thing. But this man whose boots she liked and wondered at was making good and quick on his money. She listened to be sure that they were fully occupied with one another, the bed squeaking and rustling with their movement before she slid back the tiny panel in the wall.

She had examined the jacket he had tossed carelessly onto the small couch. It was a typical jacket, with the pockets facing her which would make her job even easier. Depending on whether the event was quick and painless, as her Mother had told her most business transactions were, Tavi would decide if she should check for inner pockets, where most of the better items were hidden. Her hand was wrist deep in the left hand pocket when she heard Prisca squeal and the man say something that made the woman laugh. Tavi smiled to herself, a small, excited smile that happened within the dark between the walls. A deeper inspection would be made.

The little girl took a deep breath before sliding her hand out, sliding it over the fabric and through the folds, searching for the inner pocket that came standard in jackets. A lip of fabric brushed against her fingertips and she grinned, listening carefully before letting her fingers slip into the surprisingly silky soft lining and into the hidden pocket. She felt something cold and hard, her tongue slipping its way past her lips as she wondered what it could be, her fingers trailing over the length of the objecta dagger?