The Rose Thief Read online

  'What is that?' The woman couldn't help her fascination, this was real power.

  'This child, is a Shadow-Wraith.' Turning his attention to the mist he gave his orders. 'Seek out the man known as Two-Face Bob and destroy him. Return to me and I will grant you your freedom.'

  The wraith pulsed in response then drifted through the warehouse wall, intent on finding its victim. Two-Face Bob didn't stand a chance.

  'I have little patience for your games, child. You will steal the red rose of love and bring it to me soon, otherwise I will dismember your mother and you can take her place - caged, alone, starving, and a suitable playmate for my wraiths.'

  The woman's mouth ran dry and she licked her lips. 'I will, Father, I promise. There is something else that may be of interest to you. It's about the Emperor. But I will need some time to fully implement my plan. It requires more rose thefts, as a distraction.'

  'I'm listening.' He leant in closer and began to smile as his daughter outlined a plan to not only get him the powerful rose of love but also the keys to an empire full of fae magic.

  Chapter 3

  Ned perused the Rose Thief case file. On the last day of the spring solstice, an unidentified individual had stolen one of the Emperor's roses. Every week since, on the last day of the week, another rose had been taken. No-one had seen anything. No-one had heard anything. So far the Emperor had lost pink for appreciation, white for innocence, orange for desire and yellow for friendship. Blue, black, purple and red remained. So what? You might think. They were only roses, right? Prior to being hung upside-down in the spirit of motivation, Ned had been informed that in a fit of pique, some years ago, the Emperor had magically imbued the red rose with the very real meaning of love. Love, being fickle and hard-won, had seemed far too much effort at the time and so the Emperor, in his infinite wisdom, had sent for the most learned of mages and made them cast a powerful love-spell to tie the tricky emotion down into one place. Subsequently, he now had a thousand and one wives and the fabric of love was interwoven into a delicate flower that bloomed forever. As long as the red rose remained within the Emperor's rose garden, inside the Palace walls and under its mystical protections, everything would be fine. But, if this thief stole the red rose without deactivating the Emperor's spell then love would be lost. Not only for the Emperor but for everyone.

  Ned sighed. What bloody idiot decides to tie love to a bloody flower. Honestly, flowers are meant to bloom and die. Hell, even love dies eventually. He fingered the empty space on the fourth finger of his left hand absently until Jenni interrupted his thoughts by stomping back in.

  'Better?' She twirled, wafting peppermint with the slightest undertone of shite still noticeable.

  'Much. Now tell me again what you found out.'

  'I found a bit of that jollop wot makes the roses grow. Not much, mind. It were the smell wot got me. I didn't see nobody or nuffink, just the little bit o' muck and I fawt to meself – Boss is gonna wanna know about this.'

  'Which warehouse was it?'

  'Dunno, one round the back. One of them ones what looks like it ain't been used for a while but one wot gets rented out by Two-Face to all different people. I know where it is though. I can take us right back there, no problem.'

  'Did anyone see you?'

  'Boss.'

  'Right, okay fair enough. But Jenni, why do you stink so much if you were only looking?'

  'Oh well, I went in didn't I? Had a scout around for fings. On the floor, like. Clues and stuff. Must have been a bit o' residue or summink. There was nuffink there wot you could pick up but you never know, 'eh? You gotta check it out. You taught me that, Boss.'

  'Great, glad to see you picked up something.' Ned's train of thought was disturbed by a blood curdling scream coming from the direction of the Black Narrows. This in itself was not unusual. Most sounds down the Black Narrows were of the screaming persuasion. There was no immediate response so the screamer tried a different tack.

  'It's Two-Face Bob! Eee's been murdered!'

  That did the trick. Soon the Narrows were filled with onlookers – some brought a stool and a beverage, the forward thinkers of Narrow society – others got stuck in the crowd. The murder alarm had started bonging in the thief-catcher's office and seeing as the spell that ran the alarm had a nasty habit of growing ten decibels a minute, it seemed to Ned to be a good idea to get away from that and investigate. Thief-Catchers were not required to investigate all murders, most were covered by The Guild of Inhumers. There was a monthly newsletter outlining who to look out for. As long as the correct paperwork had been logged and a receipt issued, everyone knew where they stood. They might not like it but at least they knew about it. The murder alarm somehow knew who had receipts and who didn't. It was spell casting beyond Ned's limited ability, he couldn't even manage the volume control. Although officially a spell-caster, he was severely blocked most of the time and relied on his power well belt to keep him topped up. Plus it helped to have Jenni around, she did most of the heavy magical lifting for the catchers.

  There was a bit of shoving and muttering as Ned pushed his way through the ranks. He didn't have to look too hard to find the murder scene, all he had to do was follow the curious crowd. A fair number of the shifty looking men in nondescript clothing had come to make sure Two-Face Bob was actually dead. Certain people owed certain things and if his death were true, life had suddenly become a lot brighter. It only took one look to know for certain. One of Two-Face Bob's faces stared lifelessly at the smog ridden skies above, both eyes missing. The other face, which incidentally remained on his head, attached to his body, had eyes popping, mouth open as if to scream, and a terrified look of fear and shock frozen in place. Someone had clearly taken a violent dislike to the man. Looking down at the separated visages of Two-Face Bob, Ned felt a flicker of unease surge in his stomach. It could be because he hadn't eaten in the past twenty-four hours. Or it could be because Two-Face Bob had been to see him less than five minutes ago, claiming intel on the Rose Thief. Ned didn't hold much weight with coincidences. The viciousness of the attack was unusual for the type of murder usually committed in the city of Roshaven. Put that together with Two-Face Bob's extensive protection system of both magical and mundane origin and it was obvious.

  'He's been ripped apart by a wraith,' Ned muttered under his breath.

  'Care to comment, Spinks?'

  Ned turned to his left, his heart sinking at the tall, willowy figure standing next to him. Mariah Neeps was... well she was a damn fine figure of a woman provided you never wanted to keep a shred of personal information to yourself. Neeps worked for The Daily Blag.

  'No comment.'

  'I'll just elaborate on my Warlock theory then. Shouldn't be too difficult. They had a ruckus with one up in Narborough a few months back.' Neeps sucked the end of her recorder thoughtfully as she internally swept through the memorised headlines from her rival news bringer, The Chronicle.

  'They what?' asked Ned.

  But before Neeps could elaborate, Mrs Wicket barged her way through the crowd to stand in front of Ned. Her general shape and appearance were hard to identify thanks to the several flowing capes and feathered hats Mrs Wicket wore when she sallied forth. She was of the opinion that you can never have too much of a good thing and in her mind capes and feathered hats were the epitome of fashion. She was right, if she'd lived a hundred years ago. Still the capes and hats made her a local celebrity, the one person that simply everyone knew.

  The bright orange feather on her highest hat was dangerously close to Ned's eye. He attempted to sidle to the right slightly but was stopped by a podgy hand poking a sausage shaped finger hard into his chest.

  'What are you going to do about my safety, hmmmm?' Mrs Wicket turned her head left and right, to make sure she had a suitable audience. Feathers whipped Ned in the face.

  'All citizens' safety is a high priority Mrs Wicket, yourself included. My fellow catchers will be here shortly to seal the scene and a full report will be genera
ted for the Emperor.'

  'May he live for ever and ever.' The crowd chanted firmly, all eyes fixed on Ned.

  With relief Ned saw, out of the corner of his eye, a bubble apparently floating aimlessly along. It was the scene sealer. No-one except thief-catchers would be able to pass through and anyone else in the way would be gently pushed out of the sealed zone. The residents of Black Narrows began grumbling but pushed backwards as the bubble descended. They'd all seen more than one scene sealer before. Whilst no-one had ever admitted to being trapped half in, half out, the rumour was that the fellow who lived down at the end, past our Marge's boy's girlfriend's uncle's, had indeed been spliced and had to stay that way for two weeks while a crime was solved. When he finally came out his left side was smaller than his right side and his fingernails had turned purple. Ned encouraged such urban myths, if nothing else it made his job marginally easier.

  As the bubble completed its descent, the rest of the catchers appeared. Willow, a green-skinned nymph fed up with life in a tree but addicted to buying young saplings and teaching them the facts of life. Sparks, a firefly highly trained in the art of espionage but let down by his own brightness, and bringing up the rear the new recruit, Joe. He appeared to be a country boy from the sticks, first time in the city. Joe was also meant to be a master spell-caster, though you wouldn't know it to look at him. When Ned had interviewed him he'd been a little relieved. His own spell casting was hit and miss. Additional training was hard to come by after the last Emperor had outlawed Warlocks. It was a fine line. Spell-casters had magic in their blood naturally whereas Warlocks had to fight tooth and claw for every single ounce. The snag was that both had to train and in reality it was fiendishly difficult to tell the difference between the two.

  Ned's eyes narrowed as he watched the slightly vacant expression on Joe's face. Neeps was also staring at Joe, but hers was more the look of longing desire. Ignoring that, Ned considered the fact that the rose thefts had started about the same time that Joe had arrived in the city. But before his brain could explore this thought further the bubble landed over the scene with a loud pop, snapping his attention back to the crime scene in front of him. Sidling out from the penetrating glare of Mrs Wicket, Ned walked through the bubble followed by his team. Jenni waited for them within, it had been her bubble.

  Chapter 4

  'Willow, I want you to comb the scene. I doubt there'll be anything of interest but you never know. Sparks, it might be worth visiting Two-Face Bob's offices. But go cognito alright? The last thing we need is any more complaints about you spying through windows.'

  Willow was already nose to the ground, looking for clues. The firefly's wings drooped slightly at the admonition, before flashing his butt twice at Ned in acknowledgement and zipping out of the bubble towards Two-Face Bob's base of operations in the dock district. Two-Face Bob had always liked knowing who was arriving and who was leaving. It meant the list of likely suspects could be extremely long.

  'Joe?' No response. 'Joe – hey, Catcher Joe? Kid, you in there?' Ned started waving his hand rapidly in the lad's face. Finally he blinked and looked at Ned curiously.

  'Sir?'

  Ned narrowed his eyes, surely no-one was quite that wool-headed. 'I want you to test the scene's resonance. It looks like this was a wraith murder and Neeps thinks there might be a warlock in the city – we need to investigate every possibility.'

  It wasn't worth committing crime in Roshaven unless you'd cleared it with the relevant guild and paid your dues because otherwise you had the law and the various disgruntled guilds to deal with. Ned was supposed to attend the weekly Guild Leaders' meeting but the amount of agreed crime depressed him and he made excuses not to attend as often as he could. If a crime were committed right in front of him, he often pretended not to see the stamped receipts, making the criminal's life as awkward as possible until things got smoothed out. He was a Thief-Catcher after all. But this, this didn't look like the work of any city assassin with a receipt.

  'Can't you do it, Sir?' Joe interrupted Ned's train of thought, radiating innocence from every orifice.

  'Ere – Boss gave you an order, get on wiv' it.' said Jenni.

  Ned swallowed the grin that threatened to take over his face and attempted to look disinterested as his squad did their jobs. Eventually Willow sauntered over, her tendril like hair trailing behind her.

  'No evidence that I can find, Sir. I even spoke with the weeds between the cobbles. They didn't see or hear anything but between you and me Sir, their level of cognitive thought is a little basic. It's more like day, night, rain, cold than full descriptions of people in the Narrows.' She huffed a wisp of green hair out of her eyes suggestively. She didn't mean to, that's the way it was with nymphs. Ned fingered the thin bracelet of her hair round his wrist. A protection amulet from Willow against her charms. So far so good but you could never be too careful.

  Joe ambled over, a faint sheen of sweat covered his face and his hands trembled slightly. 'Sir, ambience levels are faint and yet there's a narrow spike of power if I concentrate and look through my fourth eye.'

  Looking through your third eye was easy, people like Mrs Wicket did it all the time. True spell-catchers had access to fourth eyes and seventh hearing.

  'Can you describe the spike?' asked Ned.

  'Well,' Joe puffed out his cheeks while he considered which descriptive words would do it justice. 'Spiky. Narrow. Powerful.'

  Ned looked up at the sky for a moment before dismissing them both back to headquarters. He waited until they had left the bubble before attempting to centre himself.

  'You gonna have a go then, Boss?'

  'I forgot you were there Jenni. A little room please?'

  The sprite stood back half a pace. She knew that if anything went wrong she'd have to leap in and sever the magical connection as well as potentially catch Ned before he hit the cobbles. There was a significant height difference so it was a matter of leverage and physics and whatnot. Ned took a deep breath and began his exercises.

  Closing his real eyes he willed his fourth open. It hovered somewhere around the tip of his nose, awkward place when things got itchy. It also made perspective difficult. Ned could feel his own strength ebbing dangerously low and that damned upside-down headache was back, banging louder than ever. He swept his eye over the scene and registered nothing. Looking again, more slowly this time and trying to ignore the muscles spasming in his legs at the strain of remaining upright, he caught the spike. It was indeed extremely spiky, narrow, and thrummed with power. Though faint, it flickered red with flecks of purple. That was a powerful magical signature alright, possibly the result of a warlock. Joe had made out it was only a pale residue. Could Joe really be so gormless that he didn't notice the menace emanating from the power signature? Fatigue washed over him and Ned found himself suddenly sitting on the floor, hard. Jenni had managed to slow his fall from complete spread-eagle to a butt drop. Still painful but slightly less comedic, after all, the bubble was transparent and there was still a healthy crowd of onlookers outside. Including Mariah Neeps. She smiled faintly as she caught Ned's attention.

  'Jenni, we've definitely got a magical being, probably a warlock. Tell the others. I'll report to the Palace once I've spoken to Neeps.'

  'Yes, Boss. What about the bubble, Boss? We done 'ere, eh?'

  Ned looked down at the eyeless face on the floor.

  'Call the city cleaners in. Tell them they'd better do a decent job this time. Last month we had members of the public posting us body parts, it's unhygienic. Leave the bubble till they get here, there might be souvenir hunters.' He eyed the inquisitive crowd. 'Pack of vultures, the lot of them.'

  Jenni smoothed her jacket pockets down. She hoped he couldn't tell that she'd half inched Two-Face Bob's brass buttons but you never knew with the chief. Literally eyes all over his face and probably in the back of his head too for good measure.

  'Rightchoya, Boss.'

  Ned left the bubble and keeping an eye out for Mrs Wic
ket's feathers, motioned for Neeps to follow him away from the melee of onlookers.

  'I need everything you've got on that other warlock. Even if it didn't make the papers.' Ned said.

  'So it is a warlock attack then.'

  'I can neither confirm nor deny that assumption. The Thief-Catcher's office, working under the direction of the Emperor - may he live for ever and ever - reminds you that it is an offence to stand in the way of the law being processed and we thank you for the excellent demonstration of civic pride in carrying out our formal request to the letter, and within the next hour.'

  'An hour! Spinks, you can't be serious? I have other deadlines you know.'

  'So do I,' Ned replied grimly as he walked away. He made it round the corner before staggering to a nearby wall as the remains of his energy ran away from him. Looking around to make sure no-one was about he pushed his hand into the wall hard and willed the collective energy of Black Narrows into his body. It felt slimy, cold and smelt slightly of cabbages but it got him walking again, hopefully as far as The Noose where he could collapse in private and get something to eat.

  Chapter 5

  Ned never made it as far as the office. Outside The Noose stood a pair of extremely clean and shiny Palace Guards. They had plumes. They looked highly conspicuous and nervous at being this far away from the Palace. They were eyeballing everything that moved. A rat had been given a serious talking to and several cockroaches were considering how they could better their life.

  'Spinks! You are to come with us and report.' The taller of the two pristine guards hollered, his voice hoarse from shouting at vermin and tinged with relief at Ned's arrival.

  'But I've only just come back from the Palace, and I've still got at least twenty-two hours before I'm due to report in,' objected Ned.

  'No time. We've got orders. If you please.' The guard gestured for Ned to walk in front of them. His feet betrayed him by swiftly falling into line and he looked longingly over his shoulder at the sanctuary of his dingy little office and allowed himself to be marched through the streets. Several small children began cheering. Ned glared at them. It had little effect. Quicker then he would like Ned found himself ushered into the Palace's second best meeting room.