Thieves at Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

chest, I should be writing this all down and keeping track, now, shouldn’t I?”
    The most important of the early lessons Derk the Lurk taught Tavera was not meant to be a lesson at all. One cold evening he sent Tavera off with a few coins to the Fence to buy him some of the tobacco he liked so much, telling her to be quick as he was almost out. The little girl cut through the alleys, running over the cobbled streets as quickly as she could, trying to outrun the stench of decay and refuse that permeated this particular part of town. Her footsteps echoed in the barren streets, making the city at night seem bigger than it actually was. Turning a corner, an arm darted out and grabbed a hold of her, twisting her arm backwards before she could react. The coins fell to the ground, clinking melodiously as a filthy hand covered her mouth, callouses rendering her teeth useless, her small frame lifted off the ground.
    Tavera tried to scream, twisting and writhing in her attacker’s arms but her attempts to escape drew his sordid frame around her tighter, almost crushing. It was dark in the alley, the dim lantern light of the main street seeming to back away from her as she kicked, one of her boots flying off of her feet. Nails dug into her and horrible words hissed in her ear. The words were terrible and drew muffled shrieks from her throat, hot tears of protest forming in her eyes. Then there was a whistling sound, a jerk and suddenly she was released. Tavi fell to the ground, crying out as the sharp rocks pounded into her bare knees, gasping as she tried to breathe. She turned around to see what happened and saw a filthy man with green rotten teeth and calloused hands lying on his back, blood gurgling from his mouth. Out of the shadows stepped two figures: one hooded and wearing a long, green scarf, his gloved hands wielding a crossbow. The other was Derk, his eyes two points of blue fire set in a face of stone.
The fingers on his right hand moved and a dagger produced itself out of thin air, the two men walking past her and circling around her assailant.
    Derk said something that she couldn’t make out but the air seemed to burn with words of intense, concentrated hatred. He spat to the side, the man in the hood matching his gait, cocking the crossbow back so loudly it made her jump. The man on the ground arched his back and Tavera could see the remnants of a bolt in his back, his blood mingling with the slick wetness of the cobblestones. The man blubbered something about a misunderstanding, that he was only playing and the little girl was overreacting to a joke. He gasped in pain, the milky whites of his eyes shining as Derk and the stranger stood over him, the dagger glinting and its light seeming to whisper a prophecy in the dark. Tavera drew in her breath as the light of the dagger disappeared and then glowed once more, darker, redder, dripping with a slowing tempo as the man on the ground wheezed and then stopped moving.
    “Worthless,” Derk said, looking up to his comrade, nodding to him quickly. “Many thanks, Jezlen,” he said, turning his attention to the little girl. The dagger was still dirty with the dead man’s blood, but his eyes had softened. His empty hand reached out towards her. “Tavera,” he said quietly. “Tavera, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
    Tavi managed to shake her head but found her legs unable to work. She wouldn’t cry, she told herself, holding back the whimpers that threatened to erupt into tears. Derk stepped over the body and walked up to her, scooping her up into his arms.
    “I’m sorry, Derk,” she said, crying into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. She buried her face into his coat and cloak, the tears coming anyway and soaking them through as she sobbed. “I tried to do what you told me but he picked me up so fast, I couldn’t do nothing, I’m sorry.” He shushed her gently telling her it wasn’t her fault and he understood.
    “What now, Dershik?” For