It’s a short trip back, and my spirits are soaring. In the alley, my now well practiced search for the library’s tiny, hidden entrance plays out for perhaps the last time. Briefly noticing a flitter of strain and distraction, I’m reminded that the mask of light still rests on my face. Dismissing it with a pulse of stable energy to the amulet, I wonder. Was it fatiguing me somehow? I’ll have to pay closer attention. That might be a problem if I ever keep it up for a long time again. An experiment for another time.

  Empowering a finger and explosively poking it into the twist, a nearly perfect balance of energy lightly blows the tension away. Squeezing through the tight door is still awkward and leaves my mind addled for a moment on arrival. However, it’s so much smoother than it used to be. A shame that I’ll never practice again in this wonderful obstacle course after today.

  I briefly inspect the extensive shelving lining the main room before voraciously pocketing as much as I can. My ability with these lovely things has improved so much. Having the actual pockets song has enabled me to intentionally shape it at my pleasure. Within the limits of my energy reserves, I suppose. At my current limit, an entire shelf’s worth of books can fit inside a single pocket.

  However, from practice, I can only press it so far, even after spacing it across multiple pockets. At best, two to three shelves worth of books are safe to take given everything else that remains. All of the mixing equipment and materials. Also, my slime. The constant habitual tending has caused him to slowly grow on me, and I can’t imagine leaving him behind. Not to mention all of my original treasures.

  The point is, I’ll suffer a larger and larger burden the more of these large pockets that I anchor to myself. My sense of internal energy plummets, and my status clearly displays the arcane energy percentage persistently falling and not returning. My plan’s to bring it no lower than seventy percent. After all, I’ll need energy to get back out and for who knows what else later.

  Regarding specific books, I’ll take Garret’s personal notes, the advanced spacial topics that I haven’t read yet, and a smattering of the others that have produced useful hierarchies. This’ll keep me going for a long time, so it won’t be a total tragedy if I can never ever come back.

  Finally, I briefly consider prying out the scrying stone. It’s so useful, if only for practice. Even if it’s specifically bound to Tranas. However, it’s frustratingly stuck to the wall. Instead, I prepare to use it one last time before heading out.

  Connecting to the device, my blood goes cold. For the smallest sliver of a moment, I swear that I caught someone’s back as they left the alley. Forcing my awareness to slowly chase after, I only find a crowded street beyond. My limited ability still won’t let me check any further. Who was that? Is it unsafe to leave?

  Maybe it’s only someone cutting through the alley as a shortcut. Although, I’ve never seen that before. Not once in all this time, actually. That makes sense, since Garret would’ve chosen a place for the secret entrance that was unlikely to attract traffic.

  It’s probably nothing. However, to assure safety, I’ll wait. Wait for a long time, and keep constant watch with the stone. If someone sneaks back, then I’ll catch them. What then? No clue, but at least I’ll know.

  One hour, two hours, three. No one enters the alley. Gradually, I calm down. It’s probably just nerves imagining things. Maybe it wasn’t even a big one? Only some piece of junk blowing through on a strong cross breeze. It’s fine. Everything’s going to work out. It always has. Trust in my genius. Trust.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Taking a deep breath before committing to an exit, I happen to catch a glimmer from the deactivated emerald of messengers embedded in the wall. Ha, may as well take that. It’s probably not particularly useful, but maybe I can study it for more songs? It only takes a moment, and after prying at it with a dagger, it easily pops out. Dropping it in a pouch on my belt and resheathing the dagger, I jump through and depart.

  To my relief, the alley’s definitely empty. However, I still wait a few more moments to fully recover and in case of an ambush. Still nothing. Slowly slinking back out to the street, I turn to head towards the Vastra terminal. Head down, fit in, avoid notice. It must have been thousands of times that I’ve spent successfully navigating their streets now. I can do this.

  Fully exposed before fully re-entering the crowd, a shadowy, diving form suddenly tackles me to the ground. Frantically, my hands shoot up to grab my hood, but that leaves me blind and undefended. The aggressor then easily moves to pin me in place, kneeling on my back.

  “Don’t know how you did that, pup,” the Kurt voice gruffly reprimands as he crosses the street to join the mess. “But, can’t trust you to dangle anymore if you can subvert the tracker.”

  “Keep watch, I’ll search him,” the Padras voice adds with a touch of disappointment. “Tried to play nice, kid, but you’re way too fishy.”

  Feeling his hands gliding over me, he pauses at my rings before searching for any other items hidden on my body.

  “Only simple mundane weapons. At least three arcane objects though. None offensively capable. Why didn’t we check him before?”

  “Who’d think some stinky sewer kid would have any random wealth on him? We both thought he was a forsaken until he showed that tiny spark of talent. Still, it’s not like he’d be difficult to rob. His skills are terrible. He can’t have had these for long.”

  “Who do you think he is?” the Padras voice continues, passively asking out loud as he rifles through my pouches and dumps their contents on the ground.

  I try to roll over and scramble away several times, but he easily presses me back down with his knee. It’s almost like a lazy afterthought between cutting and spilling each pouch. Relenting to the restraint, I peak through the hood and catch the partner picking up the grey plate from the ears. Was I keeping it in a pouch? It was nice having it handy to study during breaks. Not that I ever got anywhere with it.

  “What the– Kurt. He has a lord’s edict.”

  “Aw, grand,” the Kurt voice gravely complains. “Can you tell whose? If we screwed up Thomas’ investigation, he’s going to be big mad.”

  “Even if they obscure the actual message, I can still tell. It’s not Thomas.”

  “Oh?” the Kurt voice excitedly perks up. “Are you that Stranas spy, pup? Did we just hit the jackpot?”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, Kurt. He’s incompetent. Who’d pay someone this low rung? It only exposes them to risk with no promise of a return. No lord’s that stupid.”

  “Who cares. Even if it’s someone new, that’s still money. Maybe even promotions? Thomas probably wants a win after all that embarrassment, and this is definitely a win.”

  No! They can’t take me again. The mask won’t even work again for another day. They’ll see me immediately. I have to get away or that’s the end!

  “If he’s so incompetent, then how’d he beat the tracker before…?” the Padras voice trails off with a hint of concern. “Is he not alone?”

  “If he’s really the Stranas spy, then all the reports said that he’s alone. Weird that he’s still here though. Dumbass.”

  Frantically scanning everything nearby, I’m surrounded by scattered coins and other junk from my pouches. Should I try to stab them? No, no. That’ll only make them escalate, especially since they don’t sound remotely intimidated by me right now. They’d have taken my weapons away if they posed a danger to them. Better to keep them complacent.

  However, one glaringly gorgeous item does catch my eye. Rolling over as if attempting another escape, I sneakily reach out and barely tap it with a slight zap of stable energy.