Having the sheets on your bed thrown off and being yelled at are never pleasant ways to meet a new morning, but this was how Satchel awoke. It took him a moment to realize Jarek was shouting and going on about how a proper thief would know when he should get up no matter how tired he was. Satchel rubbed his eyes and yawned deeply after standing up.

  “Sorry, Jarek,” he said sleepily.

  “Oh, so now you remember my name?”

  This started another tirade about young people’s lazy attitudes these days. Jarek finally left the room, allowing Satchel to dress. He went into the kitchen where frying bacon, warm bread, and a bleary-eyed Addie greeted him. Something inside Satchel made him feel better knowing that she had received the same rude wakeup he had.

  He said as brightly as he could, “Mornin’.”

  She grunted and continued eating her breakfast. Satchel grabbed a plate, forked on some bacon, and tore a hunk of bread from the loaf on the table. After they had eaten and cleaned the kitchen, they left Jarek’s hovel and ventured into the Pipes.

  The passages of Beggar’s Corner were quiet in the early morning save the occasional shout or breaking of glass. While not the oldest part of the Pipes, the Corner looked as though it could be. Satchel had grown up in this place and knew every inch of it. He knew where the best places to hide were and the places to avoid.

  The three of them came to Pugman’s Way, the main thoroughfare through the heart of the Corner and followed its downward route to where it joined Market Street. They blended in with the traffic of merchants transporting their wares to market. Along the way, Satchel made sure to pinch a few cesterses from a fat, wealthy-looking vintner.

  Ledion Square buzzed with activity as shops opened for business. Women kept their children close as they perused the items for sale and the men negotiated prices with the vendors. Once every month, merchants and dealers from around Tirian came to set up shop in Ledion Square and show off their latest wares. Local businesses turned out as well, taking advantage of the large crowds that came with every Market Day.

  Originally, Ledion Square was known as Saint Bartholomew’s Square--Saint Bart’s for short--and many of the Pipes’ inhabitants still called it that. Several years ago, the governor of Ire renamed it after the hegemon of Tirian to garner favor. He even went so far as to demolish the old statue of Saint Bart and replace it with an outlandish visage of Hegemon Ledion. It had cost the city a fortune. Jarek looked at the statue as they passed by and spat on it, a private protest against the governor.

  The group wove through the throng and eventually arrived at Jacob Halwell’s red tent. Jacob was one of the few metalsmiths Jarek trusted. He greeted the old thief with a hearty handshake and a jolly laugh. Jacob was a big, burly man with a broad white beard and bushy eyebrows, the only hair on his head. Satchel always enjoyed visiting Jacob’s tent. He was kind and told the best stories. It helped that he also carried the highest quality swords, axes, knives, maces, and spears of anybody. What Satchel enjoyed most were the strange contraptions and exotic weapons that the merchant found during his travels abroad.

  As they exchanged greetings, Jarek pulled Jacob in close, talking in a voice so low that Satchel could not hear them. The two men then headed to another part of the tent closed off to everyone else.

  Addie saw a rack of bows and crossbows in one corner of the tent near the entrance and went to inspect them. The Tirian Hegemony only allowed the military and local law enforcement to use steam rifles and pistols. Thus, Jacob did not carry them, at least not officially. Satchel turned his attention to the swords of various shapes and sizes.

  He liked to imagine himself as a knight or general, leading the charge in a great battle. Jarek called it part of the silly imagination of boys. A dancing glint of light caught Satchel’s eye, and he turned to look for its source.

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  On a small table near the entrance was a series of little mechanical animals formed out of various metals. One of them, a small brass sparrow hopped around the table on its little wiry feet, and its metal body played with the sun’s rays as it bounced here and there. Satchel bent down, held out his hand, and watched in amazement as the bird hopped right into his palm and stopped. The sparrow’s head swiveled side-to-side and seemed to inspect him, as a real bird would.

  As he put the bird back on the table, a big set of hands wrapped around Satchel’s chest, trapping his arms, and hoisted him up. Jacob’s familiar laughter filled his ears.

  “Jacob, put me down!” Satchel said, also laughing. The merchant set him down and turned him around so that they faced each other.

  “Satchel m’boy! How are you?”

  “I’m good, Jacob. Do you have any new daggers?”

  “Ah, straight to the point as always. Get it, the point?" He let out a hearty laugh at his own joke. “I like that about you, lad. I don’t have much that you haven’t already seen, I’m afraid. But, I have something else that you’re sure like.”

  Jacob led the young thief to a neabry table, reached underneath the table, and pulled out a large beautifully ornamented box. The main body of the box had a sturdy black wooden frame with a golden lock. The panels of the box had been painted, each depicting a different scene, but all from the same story, Jacob told him. The scene on the lid was the final part of the story and the one that Satchel liked best. It showed two warriors facing off against one another with swords raised, one wore white armor and the other wore black.

  “So what’s in it?” he asked.

  Jacob gave a wide smile, and his dark eyes brightened. He produced a small key and unlocked the box. What Jacob pulled out, Satchel was not expecting. It was a pair of black leather boots, well-worn and in need of polishing. Satchel looked at the boots with disappointment on his face.

  “Not what you expected?” Jacob asked.

  “No, not really. What made you think I would like a pair of ruddy old boots?”

  “Well, you may not like them now, but given time and care, trust me, you’ll come to appreciate them.” He leaned in close to Satchel’s ear and whispered, “There’s magic in them.”

  The young thief gave Jacob a surprised look. “Magic?”

  Putting a finger to his mouth, the merchant said, “Not so loud, boy. You can believe me or not, but I’ve always been straight with you, haven’t I?”

  Satchel nodded.

  “Then trust me on this. There’s something special about them. What that is, I don’t know.”

  Satchel wasn’t sure what to think. While Jacob tended to exaggerate at times, he never lied to Satchel.

  Jacob leaned back. “Take them, boy. They’re yours.”

  “I don’t think I have enough to buy them.”

  “I’m not selling them. I said ‘take them.’ You turned fourteen since the last time I was here, right? Consider them a late birthday present.”

  Satchel looked into Jacob’s eyes and saw sincerity behind them. He leaned down and picked up the boots. While indeed well used, he could restore them with proper care. Besides, they looked as though they might actually fit him.

  “Why don’t you try them on?” said the merchant.

  Satchel sat down on a nearby stool and pulled off his brown shoes. He slipped the right boot on first, then the left. They stopped just short of the base of his knees. He stood and walked around.

  “What do you think?”

  “They’re comfortable.” And it was true. Satchel had never had shoes or boots that fit this well.

  “I’m glad. Here I’ll give you a kit so you can polish and repair them.”

  “Thank you, Jacob.”

  The older man chuckled. “Think nothing of it, lad.”

  About this time, Jarek appeared and saw Satchel wearing the boots.

  “Buying a pair of boots?” he asked.

  Jacob answered him, “They’re a gift from me. I missed the boy’s birthday two months ago, and I wanted to give him something.”

  “Fair enough. I’ve finished my business here, Satchel.”

  Jacob said, “I’ll have the box and the boots delivered to your house by this evening.”

  “Can I wear them now?” Satchel asked.

  Jacob thought for a moment and then said, “I don’t see why not. I’ll send your old shoes back to the house along with the box.” To Jarek, “How does that sound?”

  The old thief nodded. “Works for me. Let’s go Satchel. Where’s Addie?”

  Addie, as it turned out was no longer in the tent.

  Satchel and Jarek stepped outside and surveyed the crowd, searching for any sign of her. Jarek finally spotted her standing among a large crowd of people. She was watching something. As they drew nearer, Satchel heard a familiar tune rising over the crowd.

  “Oh no,” said the young thief, alarmed.

  “What? What is it?” asked Jarek.

  “It’s that musician.”

  “What musician?”

  That same feeling he had the previous night came back.

  That song again.

  His instincts screamed at him.

  “We need to get out of here. Now.”