Tools of a Thief: A Series of Decisions on Kairas, #1

By D. Hale Rambo

How do you stop being a thief? Zizy Zakar assumed quitting her job, stealing from her boss, and teleporting hundreds of miles away was one way to give it a go.

Getting in and out of sticky situations is her specialty. A little invisibility here, a bit of deception there, and she's home free. But even a quick-fingered, fast-talking gnome can stumble into danger that tests her skills to stay alive.

Pressed into a mission she can't say no to, Zizy feels desperate, displaced, and lonely. When she meets Laysa, a charming librarian with bold curiosity, Zizy can't help but want to bring her along on this one last job. She'll just hide her past, her present, and any complicated info about herself. What could go wrong?

Either she finishes the job and protects those she loves, or it all falls apart. Is this journey the ultimate key to unlocking a new path or another sticky situation she has to run from? She'll use every tool she's got to get what she wants.

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Tools of a Thief is the enchanting first book in A Series of Decisions on Kairas, a cozy high fantasy series. If you like witty characters, delightful adventures, and amazing settings, then you'll love D. Hale Rambo's wild tale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiercewood Press
• Release date: May 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736128114

D. Hale Rambo

D. Hale Rambo is a fantasy writer whose books transport readers to wondrous worlds filled with magic, mystery, and humor. With compelling and memorable characters at the heart of her stories, Rambo weaves tales that entertain and explore. A lifelong storyteller, she has been writing and creating other worlds since she was old enough to mark them on her bedroom wall. When she's not writing, you can find her enjoying a stiff cosmopolitan and indulging her love of mysteries alongside a pet, or two. Get updates on her series, connect with her, or discuss the versatility of gnomes at her website, www.dhalerambo.com.

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Copyright © 2021 D. Hale Rambo

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at the address below.

ISBN: 978-1-7361281-0-7 (Paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-7361281-1-4 (eBook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020925933

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

Fiercewood Press

401 Century Pkwy #1314

Allen, Texas 75013

United States

[e-mail]

Contents

1.Chapter One

2.Chapter Two

3.Chapter Three

4.Chapter Four

5.Chapter Five

6.Chapter Six

7.Chapter Seven

8.Chapter Eight

9.Chapter Nine

10.Chapter Ten

11.Chapter Eleven

12.Chapter Twelve

13.Chapter Thirteen

14.Chapter Fourteen

15.Chapter Fifteen

Book 2, Components of a Caster

Acknowledgments

Glossary for World of Kairas

Also By

About the Author

Chapter One

Zizy Zakar was broke. She was nearly out of money, out of options, and, regrettably, out of time. If she didn’t get out of town fast she’d have to face Emba—again. The gnome’s light-booted feet carried her quickly inside the winehouse. She had spotted just enough people coming and going that she knew it would be a packed house. And a packed house meant merriment, carelessness, and potential solutions to her problem.

She quickly strode up to the wooden bar, needing a little fire in her before she worked. Standing on the tips of her boots, she ordered a drink, then stared in dismay at the few king coins left in her purse. When her drink arrived, she took a large gulp and sighed, rolling her tired shoulders to relax them. Drinking had always helped calm her nerves before a job—well, when it wasn’t dulling them at the end of a sloppy, mistaken night. She started breathing normally again halfway through the bitter contents of the glass, choking just a bit as she rapidly drank.

Looking around the winehouse, Zizy noticed an attractive, chubby Brixan woman staring at her. Her curly dark hair and deep brown, pebble-colored skin were set off by her large green eyes and skewed black-rimmed glasses. She wore a short scarlet dress that Zizy thought suited her well. The woman raised her mug and nodded. She was drinking alone with a large dusty-brown leather book. Zizy smiled and turned away quickly, not offering an invitation to talk. Back when she’d first arrived in the city of Shaw, she would’ve taken the time to wink, to entice her with conversation—and perhaps earn herself a kiss, or maybe just a drink or two.

But today she needed to focus. Distractions were everywhere. There were more than a few pleasures to be found in a nation like Shawia, and Zizy had enjoyed getting tangled in them. Most of the time. The Brix were quiet folks for the most part, and she found it easy to blend in when she needed to. The drab brown shirt and tan pants she had purloined from a clothesline helped, and as long as she kept her ruby-colored curls over her ears, her cloak hood up, and a shy smile pasted on her lips, she was alright. They were only a foot or two taller than her, but she could often pass for someone’s errant child if anyone noticed a tugged belt or a loose king coin here or there. The thought made her smirk. She hadn’t been a child, or had their carefree innocence, for some time.

To see another group so differently shaded had been a shocking but pleasant surprise for Zizy. Being ruby colored, though brighter than the earth-, stone-, and sea-toned Brix, meant almost nothing here, covered from head to toe as she often was. She counted herself lucky that she hadn’t ended up somewhere dangerous when she ran away from Zumi, her home. Well, teleported away more like. She still remembered the shock at finding herself thousands of miles away from her land of gnomes and here, with the Brix.

No, being out of place had been middle on her list of concerns. Ending up in Dragon’s Roost Mountain or under the sea, drowning, had preoccupied her mind far more when she’d forced her way through the old spellwork gate. But being caught by Emba, the most powerful gnomish mage to have ever lived, had been her number one concern.

She drained the rest of her drink and asked for a suggestion on the next, winking at the tender—old habits die hard—before agreeing to it. Instead of another wooden mug, he gave her a small long-stemmed wooden goblet. Even in her hands it seemed tiny. She sipped hesitatingly, enjoying the fine, thick, fruity wine, a better drink than she’d ever come across at home in Zumi. She wondered why wine hadn’t made its way across the mountains to gnomes yet, noticed she was procrastinating, and rolled her shoulders again. She surveyed the room, assessing her next move.

In the corner, beyond the attractive woman, a couple dressed in rugged work clothes sat with their heads down, shoulders hunched, and quietly talked. Zizy dismissed them as potential targets. Too undeserving. At the bar were several older Brixan men, some with long brown beards, big bellies, and clay-colored skin, others with dusty sea-blue skin, their beards the color of seafoam. The men seemed to be enjoying the spirit of the afternoon, having clearly plucked off work early. While it would be easy to make her way toward them and loosen a bag or two, she didn’t think it would be enough to get her out of the city and on to the next.

Sitting near the door was a human man, out of place this far south. His brown hair was slicked back but very tidy. He was pale cream, tall, and wore fine traveling clothes and a long brown cloak. However, there wasn’t a speck of dust on him to mark the days he had traveled. He picked at bits of his food, twirling it on his fork before letting it slip back on his plate. Grimacing, he turned to a simply dressed man, another tall human, though pink skinned—a servant of some sort, Zizy guessed—and mumbled something, jerking his head in the direction of his food. He gestured around the winehouse and cocked his head, saying something she couldn’t hear. The servant gave a polite smile while the man laughed, pleased with himself. He glanced around as if to see if anyone was watching him, but when he noticed Zizy, he stuck up his chin, looked away, and dismissed her.

Zizy schooled her face to show no emotion, practiced in the art of pretending to have none, and turned back to the bar. It seemed to her a new option had presented itself to get the money she needed, Zizy nodded to the tender, paid, and jumped down to the floor.

Her legs wobbled, and she hiccupped, smiling at the men on the stools. Making her way toward the door, she acted as though she were putting change back in her pouch and dropped a few kings, the gold twinkling on the ground. She heard the men get off their stools and pad up behind her.

An older Brixan man called out: Here now, miss. You’ve dropped some kings. You’ll be missing those.

But Zizy, dagger ready beneath her sleeve, ignored him and continued walking.

She stumbled forward and bumped into the well-dressed human, cutting his purse in the process. She then swayed toward his servant in a practiced, distracting manner. Zizy gasped, pretending to look contrite, but before she could get a word out, the man jumped out of his seat, hitting his head on the ceiling. He winced and strode toward her.

Watch where you’re going, he yelled, and get your filthy hands off me.

He dusted his clothes vigorously. The servant, lips tight either from annoyance or hidden mirth, brought out a brush and started swiping at the man’s jacket. The well-dressed human looked at her again, disgust turning to confusion.

Are you a child?

Zizy, thinking fast, started to cry. Not enough to get more attention but simply enough to have the human look away in unease. She moved away from them toward the door as best as she could through the throngs of people. The older Brixan men ran up to her, trying to console her and pressing the gold kings she dropped into her hands. She smiled tearfully at them, thanked them for being so helpful, said she really, really meant it, then turned, and ran out of the winehouse.

Once outside, she stuffed the kings in a pouch on her hip along with the heavy purse she’d taken from the human. As she strode the cobblestone street, she pulled out darkened glasses and pushed them over her eyes, wincing at the warm sunlight. She kept on walking until she found a dead-end alley close by. It smelled clean, much to her relief. Slipping into it, she swiftly pulled out a small embroidered black cloth and muttered, Make this trick real, keep me concealed. The sigils of her spellwork burned brightly on the cotton square. Zizy felt herself being tugged into the Hylo, the realm of spellwork that surrounds all things mundane. The cotton square faded away as Zizy vanished from sight.

Where’d you go? came a rich voice behind her. How’d you do that?

Zizy turned around, the edges of her vision a fuzzy, shrouded mess when she was in the Hylo, almost too blurry to see the attractive brown-skinned curly-haired woman from before standing behind her. Zizy held her breath. How had she not noticed the woman following her? Cursing internally, she took a step back.

The woman reached up and poked forward perilously close to Zizy’s nose. She almost made contact, and Zizy stumbled backward, unable to hold back a gasp.

The woman inhaled sharply before laughing. So you are still here. That’s clever. She waved her hand in the air again. Zizy took a few hurried steps back toward the end of the alley as the woman reached out again, turning to and fro. I apologize. I didn’t mean to frighten you. That was rude of me. Please don’t go away. Are you still there?

A yell came from down the street. Expletives loud and loose exited the winehouse as the door flung open with a hard thwack. Looking cautiously at the woman, Zizy began tiptoeing past her. Surprise couldn’t distract for long. Her light boots and soft footing made no discernable noise on the stone.

You’re a gnome, aren’t you? the woman said to where she thought Zizy to be. You’ve come a long way over the mountains to pick pockets and drink wine. Delight rang clear in her deep voice.

Zizy pursed her lips. How long had this woman been looking at her? Not many people could tell the difference between her pointed ears and their round ones under heavy hair and cloak. She’d have to be more careful in the future. She couldn’t risk being caught up for long.

I’ve never met a gnome before, the woman continued. And I suppose I might not be meeting one now, actually. I thought that was clever, what you did back there. Not particularly nice, but very clever.

Zizy kept moving but smirked to herself.

If anyone comes by, I’ll look silly talking to myself in this alley. If you’re still here, I’d like to get to know you.

The belligerent yelling was coming closer now. Zizy had to hope it was just the humans to sneak her way around. What she wouldn’t give for boots like the ones back home. Sure, there’d be tiny puffs of ruby-colored steam coming off them, but she’d be so fast she’d be a blur to them.

You can find me, or follow me, to the library next door. The woman motioned to the tall brick building on the other side of the alleyway. Either way… She cocked her head to the side, her eyes roaming the empty space around her. I’m Laysa.

Zizy watched Laysa’s face for a moment, noticing the soft crinkles at her eyes and her spirited air. She was intrigued but wary. No one had sought her out like this before. She continued to creep past Laysa toward the exit of the alley. She could see indistinct shapes hurrying down the street as she got closer.

The little brat has to be out here somewhere. She couldn’t have gotten far, the human said.

She squinted her eyes to judge the distance between them. If she could dart out now and run the direction he was coming from, he’d be too hurried and mad to hear her. She stretched, preparing to run. Suddenly, the man’s indistinct shape became clearer. More focused. Her vision sharpened completely, and she felt tugged, vulnerable and visible, from the Hylo. Oh no.

Laysa coughed behind her. If you need some help, I do know a shortcut.

Zizy looked up into Laysa’s heart-shaped face and raised an eyebrow. For how much? Her luck had gotten pressed rather quickly, and while the woman was intriguing, Zizy wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t some sort of trap.

Just a few answers to a few questions, Laysa said, adjusting her glasses.

Is that really all? she replied, backing quickly into the alley. She looked the woman over to see if she had been the cause of her invisibility dropping, but Zizy saw no spellwork materials on her.

They heard footsteps pounding toward them. What do you have to lose? Laysa said, moving toward a wooden door set into the brickwork of the library.

You lead the way, Zizy said, slowly putting her hand on the dagger handle underneath her cloak.

Laysa winked and pulled out a key. Of course. In here.

In a matter of seconds, Laysa had the door unlocked and swung it open. Zizy followed her in, and Laysa locked the door behind them. A clatter of footsteps stopped outside the door. Zizy held her breath as the handle jiggled but the door didn’t budget. A close call.

She must’ve kept on down the street. Hurry, go. Someone mumbled a reply, and the footsteps marched away.

Zizy breathed a sigh of relief and tucked her sunglasses back into her cloak. Inside the small, dark room, she could see wooden shelves lining the wall and crates as tall as her on the floor. It was fairly dusty, the scent of stale paper tickling her nose.

This is the delivery area, Laysa said. The door is always locked but, luckily, by me. She pulled a tall tapered candle from one of the shelves, lit it, and held it aloft. Its amber light cascaded across the meager items in the room but gave her face a brush of gold on her cheeks. Welcome to the library.

Zizy raised an eyebrow but followed Laysa out of the small entrance into a large wooden tower. The curved walls went up three floors, higher than it had looked from outside. An iron spiral staircase ran along the inner wall with arched openings at each level’s landing. There were many panes of glass inset at repeating points along the wall that filtered in the waning sunlight. It sparkled across the swirls and patterns of verdant vines and leaves that decorated the ceiling, making a sort of wreath around the peak at the top. Though she couldn’t see the books, she smelled them—the paper, dust, and ink overpowering in the space. Zizy’s mouth opened wide, and her head swiveled up. Impressive.

This is an awful lot of text for one person.

Laysa chuckled, her laughter a smooth, warm blanket that the gnome found relaxing.

The library is where we keep most of the things we want to preserve. Its architecture is supposedly reminiscent of the original Timeless Libraries. Those created by the deity, Noble Endurance, that stood before the Shattering.

She smiled wide and moved close to Zizy. A delicious heat emanated between them as Zizy noticed the candlelight dancing in the sea of Laysa’s green eyes. Zizy sidestepped away awkwardly. Unphased, Laysa beckoned her forward and walked farther into the room.

Brix contribute from all over our nation to these archives. There’s only one other like it in all of Shawia.

Zizy had passed this building without care before, but she found she couldn’t reconcile the small outside moments with this extraordinarily quiet one inside. She shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck.

Thanks for helping me out back there. You didn’t need to do that. She swallowed. So, you said you had questions?

Laysa nodded and shrugged. I always have questions. Here, sit please.

She motioned to a plush, pink