The Plan

He quickly ducked back behind the shelves to stay out of sight. Why did he take this job? There were so many easier jobs available, yes they likely would pay a lot less, but at least then he wouldn’t be here.

Here just happened to be in the workshop of Sub-Master Maritza Tinoco, one of the King’s tinkerers. His goal, the little black notebook she made herself which never left her shop. His current employer wanted the book, saying what he would get paid depends on what is in it.

The odd part is, his employer works with the Sub-Master on some projects, so why hire him to steal it?

As he peeked around the shelves again, he carefully looked around to make sure nobody was looking his way. There was only one path he could take, and it would leave him fully exposed for at least a few seconds. And his next spot of cover was not what he expected.

Standing prominently in the middle of the workshop was a wagon. It wasn’t very large, about the size that a single horse could pull, and it had a few comfortable seats so it was meant to carry people. But it had a bunch of unusual metal tubes all over it. He’d never seen anything like it, as the only metal tubes he’d seen used were in a privy.

Prying his eyes away from the strange contraption, he quickly slipped out of his cover and dashed behind it. As he got close, it rocked away from him and made a small bang.

That was not good, both for the attention it drew and for the fact it had no wheels and was just sitting up on stacks of wooden planks.

As he swiftly adjusted his position to be behind the planks, he grabbed the ring on his left index finger and gently stroked the black stone embedded in it. As an enhancer, he could only use and enhance the properties of magical objects, but doing so drained them of their energies faster than most people, but it also resulted in the effect being stronger.

Visibly his form became darker and less pronounced in the already dwindling light in the workshop, the process completing just before one of the students walked around to his side, only to see nothing visibly wrong with the cart. He stayed crouched and waiting, as the various workers checked a few things inside the cart.

A voice from the other side of the cart spoke up “Everything looks ok. Must have been a slight expulsion from one of the outlets on the other side. Maybe a valve wasn’t closed. We’ll check it tomorrow, go home for the evening.”

With a chorus of “Good nights.” the room swiftly emptied, leaving him alone, sweating and nervous but glad he had not yet been caught. As he released the ring, he felt that it was almost drained and might have lasted another few seconds at best.

Walking over to the main table, he found a lot of odd drawings, all focused on the cart with the tubes, and numerous gems and magical symbols covering the pages. It looked like they were trying to embed magic into the cart, but something that size, and made of so much wood, would hardly work well. Wood was a poor medium for storing and using magic. But the tubes and the gems on the other hand...could be useful, and worth a lot if he could get them out.

Ignoring the plans, and sadly the gems as well, he began searching the various drawers, pulling them out and trying to find the book. All he was told is it was small, black, and had the signet of Sub-Master Tinoco on the cover. As he began to despair on finding the book, he looked back behind him towards the cart and found it resting on one of the seats, out in the open and easy to grab.

Carefully this time, he approached the cart, avoiding getting too close to the tubes, to pick it up. Curious he looked inside and found it filled with notes and writing, and even more drawings of the cart. They thought they could make it fly! But that’s insane, magic doesn’t make anything fly. It can produce wind, and help keep things from falling to the ground too hard, but fly? No, that was impossible.

Closing and slipping the book inside of his shirt, he made his way towards the rear door to slip back out and return to meet with his employer. As he did, he began to curse this job and the risks it put him in, since being caught would mean his imprisonment as a laborer, or possibly even death, especially with the overcrowding these days.

On an island, there’s only so much food to go around, and he went hungry more often than not.

Sliding into the shadows he noticed a guard was now posted at his exit from the compound, one that was not there the night before. Knowing he did not have enough time for stealth, he got as close as he could, holding his hand ready over his ring. At the first sign of the guard hearing him and turning, he activated the ring just in time to make a mad dash.

He wasn’t invisible, though the guard could not see him clearly enough to identify him. He pushed past the guard and was only a few feet away when the power faded.

The guard shouted behind him “Very funny Silas! I’ll get you back tomorrow night you bastard!” followed by a roaring laugh. Apparently, this was something someone did regularly, which is lucky for him.

After walking through the city for a while, sometimes through alleys filled with trash and sewage, and sometimes down the middle of a well-lit street full of light star lamps, he made his way towards a fallen down fishing shack, to wait inside.

Sitting on an old bench that was used by workers as they repaired nets in the shack, he rested and waited before a voice spoke up behind him “Do you think it will work?” Knowing it was his employer, he pulled the book out of his shirt to pass it behind himself.

“A flying cart? Never. That would take more magic than any of the High Master’s could create.”

“Mmm, perhaps.”

A coin purse was tossed onto the ground in front of him, a rather small one considering the job he had to do. Provided that it wasn’t full of the small chits, it might be worth it. Glancing behind him he saw he was alone, so he reached down to pick up the bag. Upon opening it, he found twenty gold chits. That was the same as twenty thousand standard chits, ten times what he had hoped to be paid.

Tying it to himself, Rurin Jakar made his way out the door to return home.

Perhaps the job was worth it after all.