Well Hi There! (Solia)

[Drayton]

12th of Summer The cool wet of spring had passed over Sunberth. Now the city was flooded with the damp and sticky heat of a wet month. Eleanor could feel the heat in the tacky sensation that had soaked deep into the padding of her gloves, cultivated by too many days spent unwashed and sweaty. But the Seaside Market was always a bit cooler, though it stank to Zintila’s stars. Breezes flew in off the ocean, weaving through the hodgepodge of stalls to tickle the small hairs on the back of the girl’s neck. It would have been pleasant if it had not brought the scent of rotten fish with it. The sharp smell wound its way up Eleanor’s nose, settling deep in the mucus where no amount of persistent nose blowing would dislodge it. This was why she preferred burglary to the markets. Places like this had too many people, too many opportunities for smells and fungus and fluids to meet. At least most people felt some desire to keep the place where they slept stench free. But Jaena had been complaining lately. Infiltrating homes took too long, there was too much planning and the folks that were easy to rob in Sunberth barely had roofs over their heads, let alone something worth stealing. Apparently Demri hasn’t been doing so well with his dice… she thought with a smirk, remembering how her friend had moaned about missing breakfast that morning. Pampered little snot, Dem better learn to take better care of her if he doesn’t want a bit of that cold shoulder. Jaena’s cold shoulder could have frozen Morwen in her steps, and Eleanor wanted no part of it. So she braved the market. It would be worth it if she got something good today. She didn’t have much of an idea of what she was searching for though. Her eyes settled on a straggly looking booth. The awning was torn and strips of it hung low, looking like droopy, depressed fingers pointing out the goods to prospective buyers. A cursory glance at the collection on the table told Eleanor this would be a good place to start.This bloke has to make up his mind! He doesn’t know what he’s selling… she thought with a grin, approaching the stall. Eleanor turned her grin on the owner as she stepped up, flipping open a book to “examine”. His hair looked just as forlorn as his ragged awning. The greasy grey strands hung sadly by his ears, and tickled the upper lids of watery eyes. His mustache was made of the same straggly stuff and when he spoke bits of hair clung to the moist underside of his lip. “Whotcher want?” he asked. The man sounds like he drinks sand… Eleanor thought, but she grinned at him. “Just looking at some books, needing something new to read, you know.” She turned another page idly, the smooth paper hissing over her fingers. The vendor didn’t seem to believe Eleanor could read. And as he scanned her unwashed and rag draped frame it started to look like there was something far more concerning about this girl than her illiteracy. “Don’t look like you got a coppur miza to ya. I don’t need no sticky fingered vagiks rubbing thar grease on my goods.” Rolling her brown eyes the teen shoved a hand into her pocket, and flashed a gold miza at the man. “I’ve got money, if you want me to spend it you better let me look at what you’ve got.”Until now Eleanor had only been slowly flipping pages so she had an excuse to glance at the rest of the man’s wares. Never seem interested in the thing you want to steal. If nothing it gives you a bit of surprise on your side. Her father had said that once. The lazy no-name did at least teach me some helpful trade tricks… she thought, settling her eyes more firmly on the book in front of her to sell her faked interest. And beneath her eyes a ship crashed against inky waves. Delicate lines spiraled up the rigging and the boards of the hull creaked with detail. She flipped another page, wondering if the last beautiful image had been a fluke. Books can’t have things like these in them! But the thief was shocked again as the next page saw the ship anchored off a shore with a curtain of vines and leaves hung across it and lacey foam spread over it. Small dots of ink showed the footprints of the crew that had ventured into those dark drapes. Feeling the cold illustrations beneath her fingertips Eleanor realized something that surprised her more than the captivating images. I need this book. When a portly woman stepped up to the stall to inquire about a necklace that looked like it had fallen in the slag heap Eleanor grabbed it. No sooner had she shoved the tome into a large pocket on the inside of her vest than she knew it was a mistake. Damnit! Impulses are not something you should listen to! And the guard gave chase. The pair bolted through the stalls and the soggy streets. Mud sucked at the soles of Eleanor’s boots as she ran, panting and clutching the heavy lump in her vest. They skidded out of the market and a cart passed between them, slowing her shouting pursuer enough for the girl to scramble down an alley. Shyke! It’s empty… There was nothing here to hide in and she was breathing hard, the muscles in her legs burning with the summer days heat and the tired acid that flowed through them. Glancing up the girl saw an open window on the second floor. She leaped onto the sill of the first floor window, which happened to be nailed shut, unwelcoming boards blocking any entry. Grabbing at a faded green shutter for balance Eleanor used her free hand to try and grip the sill above her. Nails clutching at the old wood she pushed against the shutter, her boots scrambling against the slats as she tried to climb up. The shutter swayed violently, knocking Eleanor against the wall. She could feel a lump rising in her cheek bone as the thin painted boards she had braced herself against began to splinter. Over their cracking the thief could hear heavy breathing and angry footsteps approaching. “HURNGH!” She lunged upward and dragged herself over the sill, feet kicking over the alley as though she could swim through the window. And then Eleanor felt herself flipping over the edge and tumbling down. She landed hard on her back, head throbbing against the wooden floor.