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"All I saw were his eyes," the guard mumbles. "Blue. Very blue."

The woman huffs in irritation. "How helpful. Let me just stop every person on Loot to see if their eyes match your vivid description of very blue."

I stifle my snort as something creaks from the other end of the room, followed by a chorus of muffled footsteps. From the groan of rotting wood shifting beneath several new pairs of boots, I immediately deduce that three more guards have joined the hunt.

'And that's my cue.'

I hop off the chimney and grab onto the raised ledge of the roof, swinging my legs over the side to dangle above the street. Blowing out a breath, I let go and bite my tongue against a yelp as gravity yanks me toward the ground. With a soft thud I drop ungracefully into a merchant's wagon brimming with hay. The stiff straw pokes through my clothes like one of Adena's pincushions, and a cloud of soot and hay rises on the night breeze when I jump out onto the street.

Passing the time by plucking straw from my tangled hair, I begin my journey back to the Fort, weaving through beat-up merchant carts, all abandoned for the night, feet dancing over trash and broken trinkets. Looters slumped against alleys or tucked in between buildings whisper among themselves as I pass.

I feel the weight of the dagger tucked into my boot and relax at the comfort of the cool steel as I pass groups of fellow homeless huddling together for the night. I can see the faint shimmer of purple force fields shielding some, while others don't even have an ability strong enough to allow them to sleep peacefully, which is the exact reason they call the slums their home.

I keep my steps swift and sure as my eyes sweep back and forth across the alleys, never letting my guard down. The poor don't discriminate. A shilling is a shilling, and they don't care if they jump someone worse off than them to get it.

Several guards cross my path as I zigzag down streets, forcing me to slow down to steer clear of them. Every shop, corner, and street has been bestowed the gift of leering, white-uniformed law enforcers. These brutal Imperials have been stationed everywhere along Loot Alley by decree of the king due to an increase in crime.

Clearly has nothing to do with me.

I slip down a smaller alley, making my way toward the dead end. There, tucked in the corner, is a mangled barricade of broken merchant carts, cardboard, old sheets, and Plague knows what else. Before I'm even halfway to the pile of garbage we call home, a face obscured by wild shoulder-length curls pops up over the Fort.

"Did you get it!?"

Untangling her long legs from where she sits, she effortlessly stands and phases right through the three-foot wall of our trash barricade without a second thought, and then she's bounding toward me with so much hope in her eyes that you'd think I've offered her a real roof over her head and a warm meal. And though I can give her neither of those things, I do have something far better, in her opinion. I sigh. "I'm offended you doubted me, Adena. I thought you'd have a little more faith in my abilities after all these years." I sling my pack from my back and pull out the crumpled red silk from within, unable to suppress my smile as a look of awe settles on her face.

She greedily claws the silk from my hands, running her fingers through the soft folds of the fabric. Peeking up through the curly bangs hanging in her hazel eyes, she looks at me as though I've just single-handedly eradicated the Plague rather than stolen fabric from a woman not much better off than we are.

Like I'm the hero and not the villain.

Adena's smile could rival the sun over the Scorches Desert. "Pae, you and your sticky fingers work magic, you know that?"

She throws her arms around my neck, pulling me into a crushing embrace that causes more honey to ooze down my vest and pool in my pockets.

"Speaking of sticky fingers&" I peel myself from her hug to fish around in my pockets. I retrieve six smashed sticky buns, only slightly unappetizing with the hay now decorating them.

Adena's eyes go wide at the sight before snatching one from my hand just as greedily as she did the fabric. She turns midbite and uses her Phaser ability to stride right back through our fort without a second thought, plopping herself down on the colorless, rough rugs that lie on the inside of the barricade. She pats the spot beside her expectantly, and unlike her, I ungracefully leap over the wall before I can take a seat.

"I bet Maria wasn't too happy about her shop being looted. Again. Poor thing should really up her security," Adena says between bites, a crooked smile joining the crumbs on her face.

Despite my robbing the woman at least once a month for the past several years, she's still only managed to conclude that I am a he. At least she's trying.

"Actually," I say with a shrug, "she had two more Imperials stationed around her shop than normal. She must be getting tired of all the stolen sticky buns over the years."