CHAPTER ONE: SNEAKING OUT

Fawkes Fairchild took cover behind the brewing barn to avoid being spotted by Shyri Cragjumper's brothers. The soft glow of the two candlelit street lamps could not reach around the corner, leaving him in darkness. If either brother realized he was there, it could mean a forced marriage for him and Shyri.

"I know, I know." He could almost see JuJu rolling his eyes as the massive hound, weighing more than most men, sat and snorted at his whispered words. "I never take senseless risks, but waiting out here is just so dull." The strong scent of toasted walnuts wafting out from Cragjumper's Brewing Barn made him hungry, despite the charms from the Oddes Shoppe that Shyri's father used to hide the scent of his secret ingredients.

Those charms only last so long, Cragjumper. Time to buy new ones. Wait, why am I not smelling the hops and— is he using a charm just to make the walnut scent stronger?

Fawkes sucked in a breath and more of the toasted walnut aroma. Very clever! With his best drink called Black Walnut Whiskey, why not announce it with the scent? Everyone knows he makes just one vat of that whiskey every year. And, oh, what a wonder it is.

Fawkes grinned at the sudden memory of his first taste. Ha! Turned me red as a beet with eyes that teared so bad everything blurred. That was a day.

***

"Ten gold for whiskey? You got fleeced."

"Watch your tone, Fawkes," Grandfather pointed at a bottle of Black Walnut Whiskey on the desk between their beds and wrapped in a black leather sheath that fit it like a glove. Stitched on the front stood a gently arched bridge over a little creek. Curving its way across the bridge marched the merry words: Black Walnut Whiskey. Nestled under the bridge were Cragjumper, '987. "This is not just any whiskey, it's the finest of them all."

Grandfather poured two fingers of the pale amber liquid into crystal tumblers and handed one to Fawkes, raising his glass. "Today, you passed your Trials of Enlightenment and I couldn't be more proud. You are now a man and the skipper of the Gosling. Bokivel."

Squinting to try and keep his eyes from going wide, Fawkes took the offered crystal glass. He felt proud and nervous all at once. Finally, he was having a man's drink without sneaking it when Grandfather was away. Clinking his glass to Grandfather's, he repeated the toast to their goddess then tossed back all the whiskey.

"Roll it on your tongue. Learn and savor its flavor before you swallow."

Tears sprang into Fawkes' eyes and he squeezed them shut as his face reddened. Hot spices were all the rage in Miribex and he was used to hot-bark but ... what Cragjumper did before adding it to the whiskey made the spice more intense than he had ever tasted. Despite that, a toasted walnut flavor danced with the blend of gently sweet cream. He swallowed. The amber traveled down his gullet in smooth wonder. How had Cragjumper made the hot-bark cool its heat for the journey down the throat? Sucking in a deep, cooling breath to save his mouth, Fawkes opened his eyes and wheezed.

"Th-that was amazing."

"Indeed. Sip it next time. You're a skipper now. Never show the heat of your spice."

***

Fawkes sighed, his grin saddened into a bittersweet smile. For once there was not a tear at a memory of his Grandfather. Gone, too, was the anger aimed at the old man for getting murdered and leaving him all alone but his heart still sagged. There would be no magistrate sentencing Grandfather's killer, not with the town watch getting rich on bribes from the local thieves gang and it made his life feel empty. Squaring his shoulders, he stood straighter. Time to change that, soon as I figure out how.

The sound of a creaking door and footsteps on cobblestones pulled Fawkes out of his thoughts. He turned his attention to the street where he saw three men near the streetlamps.

"Get on home, Hyrvu," the shorter of the two Cragjumper boys, who were both youngmen, ordered.

"I lit you a shuck," the taller brother added. Fawkes rolled his eyes. Those rolled-up corn husks tied with twine lasted ten minutes on a lucky day. Blackstone was a good-sized town of about four hundred people. Depending on how straight Hyrvu could walk, he might reach home before it burned out.

"Thanksh ... hic ..."

Hyrvu staggered toward home, his footsteps clacking unevenly on the cobblestone.

"That's the last one, Gyrro."

The alehouse door creaked open and then shut, cutting off whatever else the voices might have said.

This is foolishness. Any moment now one of those Cragjumper boys will come out and snuff their streetlamps. Heaving a sigh, Fawkes moved away from the tempting corner and stared up at the moon. Did her father catch her this time? Were her chores worse than usual? Oh, stop it, idiot! Wait here, as always. Shyri can sneak out past anyone except her annoying little brother. At least Thimmy knows nothing of our secrets. Well, almost nothing.

The little pain did know that he and Shyri often met at night, but never told their father. Keeping her secrets is the only redeeming thing about Thimmy. What a pest! Fawkes leaned back against the wooden brewing barn wall. Would her little brother continue to keep her secrets if he ever discovered everything they did? The boy only assumed they were kanoodling and as yet had never caught them in the act. Once or twice he had come close to catching them sneaking about Hagglers Storehouse, the warehouse near the river where the brandies and brews of Hagglers Distillery were kept.

Haggler hid other things in his storehouse. Things that never stayed long and slipped out under the guise of being part of one delivery or other. Shyri knew how to sneak about like a shadow and had a remarkable knowledge on the secretive side of Haggler's business but, as yet, they had never managed to nab more than bottles of brandy in the times she had dragged Fawkes along on her heists. Rather, Shyri never shares IF she finds those sneaky bits while we grab some brandy. That's her secret business. Me going along for more than a bit of fun with her is MY secret. According to Shyri, spouses share secrets so since we don't intend to be spouses we don't share our secrets. I agree.

The long warbling call of a river lion broke the stillness. Fawkes straightened. From here at the top of the long low hill, he could see over the wainwright's yard down to Blackstone Harbor. It was too far and too dark to see more than the moon reflecting off the water but habit made him try to spot the long, sleek creatures that resembled water-loving weasels. Very large weasels. A pack of males would hunt unwary folks right off their boats. Fawkes listened for a while but the call was not been answered. This river lion was alone.

Alone and waiting, just like me. Unlike me, it can just swim off.

Patience, Fawkes. His mouth curved into a small smile at the memory that had spoken in his head. He leaned against the brewing barn then turned back to stare at the reflecting water. Yes, Grandfather, but I hate waiting.

Waiting was a pain. There was the waiting for closing time, then the waiting for Shyri. The worst, though, was waiting for justice. Fawkes frowned at the sudden turn his feelings had taken but nodded. The only justice he could hope for was to steal back Grandfather's magical book taken during the magical murder. It had been a horrible blast of mage fire at the placards table had incinerated Grandfather, the four men who had made up the Gosling's crew, and a young fisherman. The deadly blast had spread, killing a serving woman before igniting half of the commons room of the Blackstone Inn.

Burnyrd and Symel, who ran the Oddes Shoppe, managed to quench the magical fire but it was the Bucket Brigade that had put out the rest of the fire. He rubbed his hands. Passing pails of water along the bucket lines had caused blisters but there had been no stopping. Dreadful worry for Grandfather had pushed him to stay at it even when those blisters burst and bled.

Tears sprang to his eyes and he sucked in a breath. That gut-wrenching moment he had finally been able to go inside only to find charred bones and ash. Heaving aside the fancy, and very heavy, placards tabletop revealed lower legs left unburned. Those fancy shipwheel-shaped buckles and spice laddles tooled into the leather of the boots Grandfather had been so proud of lay singed and dirty but whole. They had been the only things left to identify the man who had raised and trained him. Soul deep pain had dropped him to his knees there in the char. Burnyrd and Symel had hauled him out of there, none of them noticing the thieves that had slipped up the stairs to the rooms, including Grandfather's.

I will get that book back, Grandfather. Fawkes wiped his eyes and stood away from the brewing barn. I will get back Garzio. I promise.

JuJu grunted out a short growl, jolting Fawkes out of his thoughts. The huge dog looked to the other corner of the barn wall. He stood up, stretched, and yawned. By the time he gave himself a shake, a figure walked around that corner.

Fawkes swallowed his thoughts and flashed a smile as the figure sashayed towards him wearing twill breeks. It was a pretty walk that could not stay hidden beneath the loose male clothing.

"I could have killed you, Fawkes," Shyri scolded in a whisper. "I could have been one of The Hand."

"JuJu smelled it was you before you ever made it around the corner." He moved to kiss her. Shyri dodged the kiss and grabbed his elbow, tugging him away from the brewing barn.

"Let's get going. I think my weaselly little brother saw me."

JuJu snorted and led the way down the dark street. Fawkes tucked Shyri's hand more properly but she let go and straightened the manly leather jerkin she wore.

"Appearances, Fawkes."

"If you insist." Swallowing his disappointment, he shook his head. How does she expect no one to notice she's a girl despite wearing her brothers' clothes at night? And, really, breeks with a jerkin? She should be wearing a tail-coat. Traipsing about at night in breeks was far beneath what they were meant for. Temples and fancy occasions only, like my own velvet sets neatly hung under their drapes. Maybe if she did not sashay about...?

Fawkes shook his head. He rather liked her sashay. Still, she was right. It may be dark but they were still out in public where they dared not be seen getting affectionate. He would have to enjoy her company without touching. Smoothing his tunic over his twill trousers, he turned his attention back to the dark streets and followed JuJu.