Fallen Thief Read online

  “You’re hurt!” Mira exclaimed.

  “Stay back,” Appoline said in a hoarse voice. “It’s not safe—”

  “Don’t go any closer,” called a familiar voice from behind Mira.

  She spun around to see Peter’s parents rushing out of the crowd. Mr. Waylor ushered her out of the way as he carefully grabbed onto Appoline’s arms to steer her out of the house.

  Mira barely heard Mrs. Waylor’s soft reassurances as she allowed herself to be pulled away from the burned and blackened building she had once called home. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her mother, who was being helped through the crowd by Mr. Waylor and the town blacksmith as they rushed her towards the puppet shop. Someone else ran off, yelling that they would find the doctor.

  Mira felt someone step close by her side and turned to find Kay watching Appoline grimly. When Peter approached from the other side, Mrs. Waylor swung her arm around his shoulders and crushed him in a hug.

  “None of you children were near the fire, then?” she said breathlessly when she pulled away, her round cheeks flushed.

  “We were coming home when we saw the commotion,” Peter said.

  “We didn’t see how the fire started,” Kay said. “It was crazy. The flames were coming out of the study window, and Appoline was in there the whole time…”

  “We arrived right as you two put out the fire,” Mrs. Waylor huffed. “And you did it just in time, too. I reckon your mother will be all right, thanks to you.”

  Some of the onlookers around them had begun to walk away, throwing anxious glances back at the scene. Others were lingering around, speaking behind their palms and staring at them. A mother pulled her child close when Mira’s eyes met with hers. Mira looked away. She recognized the look they gave her.

  They were frightened.

  Still, Mira didn’t care. She would have summoned enough water to flow through the streets like a river if it meant saving her mother. She craned her neck to see past the people in front of her, not wanting to lose sight of Appoline. Her blood pumped loudly in her ears as she fought the tears that stung her eyes. There had never been a fire this big in Crispin before—none that Mira could remember, at least.

  “Who do you think did it?” Mira asked.

  Mrs. Waylor blinked in surprise.

  “Who?” Mrs. Waylor repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “How else could the fire have started?”

  “I don’t know,” Mrs. Waylor said slowly. She glanced around at the onlookers, who were watching them carefully. “Your mother stopped by our house to tell us about the council meeting as soon as it was over. She left us only an hour ago, and I don’t know what she was planning to do at home. We will ask your mother once she’s well enough to talk. These accidents happen, sweet. Sometimes we forget to put out our lamps, or—”

  “Mother never forgets to put out the lamps!” Mira said, becoming more confident with each passing moment that the fire couldn’t have been an accident.

  “All right, sweet,” Mrs. Waylor said gently, though she bit her lip uncomfortably. She grabbed Mira’s hand and patted it before picking up her speed to lead the way. “Let’s get you all inside where you can rest a bit, and then we’ll get to the bottom of this together.”

  Mira, Peter, and Kay gave each other doubtful looks and followed Mrs. Waylor with heavy feet. Once they reached the back of the crowd, Mira noticed Mr. Streck standing with several other adults who watched the building with grave expressions. She recognized some of them as councilors, including the man and woman who had once delivered the news of the winged horse in the very study that was now destroyed. Mr. Streck peered down his nose at her and muttered something to the others, who watched them make their way down the street. Mira turned away, not liking the way their eyes were squinted at them like the councilors didn’t trust them.

  “I can’t believe that fire started with a lamp,” Peter muttered when they were out of the crowd.

  “It didn’t,” Mira said through gritted teeth.

  “What makes you so sure?” Peter whispered.

  “It wasn’t even dark enough for Appoline to light a lamp! I can’t believe anyone would think the fire’s her fault…”

  “Oh, come on,” Kay said, leaning in as they walked. “Mrs. Waylor wouldn’t think that—it’s obvious!”

  “What do you mean?” Mira asked.

  “She didn’t want to talk about it in front of all the people watching!”

  Mira thought about that.

  “I guess you could be right.” She suddenly felt exhausted. Every muscle in her body was protesting as she walked as if her summoning had truly drained her. She sighed. “Then that means there’s someone right here, in Crispin, trying to kill Appoline—and maybe us, too.”

  “You don’t think it’s the Shadowveils, do you?” Peter said.

  Kay shrugged. “Why not? They’ve attacked us before.”

  They reached the green door under the sign that said Master Waylor’s Puppets Galore! It was already wide open, as the men had carried Appoline through it a minute before. Mrs. Waylor led them into the puppet shop and locked the door behind them. She showed them to a bench on one side of the shop, under rows of marionettes and hand puppets hanging up on the wall. Mira wasn’t used to seeing the shop as empty as it was. The puppets on display at the window sent eerie shadows across the room, which didn’t help her nerves.

  Mrs. Waylor went behind the counter, lit a candle, and brought it back to the bench.

  “I’m going upstairs to check on your mother. You three rest here a minute. I’ll come to get you as soon as I can.” And she was off.

  Mira plopped down onto the bench, unable to stand any longer.

  “You’re exhausted, too?” Kay said, sitting next to her.

  “Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired before. Not even in the dragon’s cave.”

  “You two summoned much more water this time,” Peter said, his brown eyes glimmering in the candlelight. “Now that I’ve seen you put out that fire, I actually believe the books that say merrows can create hurricanes. If only Tonttu had seen it.”

  The mention of their gnome friend stirred another uneasy feeling in the pit of Mira’s stomach. They hadn’t heard from him since they last saw him at the Royal Palace. Mira had even resorted to throwing her thoughts to him one night. Tonttu, where are you? she had asked. She’d been waiting for a letter ever since, looking out the window for the sight of his enchanted paper flapping towards the house in the form of a bird.

  “Wish he was here,” Kay muttered, resting his elbows on his knees. “Bet he’d know a way to find out how that fire started.”

  Peter set the candle down on the table behind him. Just then, the doorknob rattled and they jumped. The doctor’s bearded face appeared in the display window. Peter hurried over to unlock the door.

  “Miss Byron is in here?” the doctor asked, peering around at the near-empty shop.

  “Upstairs,” Peter said and moved aside. The doctor nodded, swept past him, and hurried up the staircase at the back of the shop.

  It was only a few minutes before Mrs. Waylor called for the children to join them. Mira, Peter, and Kay hurried to the small living room, where Appoline was sitting on the long couch in the center of the room, her swollen foot propped up on a pillow in front of her. Mira rushed to her side.

  “Are you all right?” she asked immediately.

  “It’s only a sprained ankle, my dears,” Appoline said. She had wiped some of the soot from her face, but she still looked quite disheveled compared to her usual clean appearance.

  “She was lucky it was not worse,” the doctor said seriously. “As I said, it won’t take long to heal.”

  Appoline and Peter’s parents thanked him. As Mr. Waylor led him out of the house, Kay stepped up to Appoline and asked, “What happened? Is our house destroyed?”

  “Not all of it.” Appoline sighed. “The living room was
untouched, but my entire study is ruined. Parts of my bedroom above it, too. I was in there when I smelled the smoke, and when I came down the stairs to see what had happened, the study was completely in flames.”

  “The fire spread that fast?” Peter said, wide-eyed.

  “Very fast. The ceiling in the study collapsed only a moment after I left my bedroom. I must have sprained my ankle when I fell back. I thought all was lost until I saw the water flow in through the broken windows.” She gave Mira and Kay a tired smile, then. “I knew at once that you two had saved me.”

  “I wish we got there sooner,” Mira muttered.

  “It all happened very quickly, my dear. You did wonderfully.”

  Mira considered her mother for a moment, then asked, “It can’t have started with a lamp, could it?”

  Appoline’s expression turned grave. “No. I hadn’t left anything lit in the study. I took my only lamp up to my bedroom after I dropped off my notes from the council meeting on my desk. The history book was there, too. They’re all destroyed, now.”

  “Those cowards,” Mr. Waylor said as he walked back into the living room.

  Told you no one thought it was an accident, Kay’s voice echoed in Mira’s head.

  “Who?” Mira asked quickly, ignoring Kay.

  Appoline pursed her lips. All eyes were on her.

  “I don’t know who it was, but there is someone out there who wanted my books destroyed, of that I am certain. Perhaps they wanted to silence me, as well. The council didn’t like hearing that the Empress of the Sea is the Merqueen Amara. I wasn’t surprised, but when I explained that the only way it could be possible is that the empress has found a way to be immortal, the councilors became outraged.”

  “Outraged?” Mira repeated, frowning. “At the empress?”

  “No, my dear. They don’t believe that such sorcery exists. They think we’re mistaken.”

  “What did Tullor think?” Peter asked.

  “He was skeptical, like the rest of them.”

  “They didn’t even want to see the proof?” Kay said. “What about the scar Mira noticed on the empress’s cheek? You could see it in the portrait—they must’ve thought that was suspicious!”

  “Ah.” Appoline gave a bitter smile. “I did show them the history book. I think it made an impression on some of the councilors, but I can’t say for sure. I do know that it scared one of them—perhaps more than one—enough to destroy the evidence.”

  “So someone followed you home,” Kay began slowly.

  “And burned the study,” Mira finished, suppressing a shiver.

  “Yes,” Appoline said, “and with it, all of my notes and books. Someone is trying to hide the empress’s true identity.”

  “By burning people’s houses down!” Kay added bitterly.

  Mr. Waylor took off his glasses and wiped them, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

  “People can do terrible things when they’re desperate enough,” he said.

  “Look on the bright side,” Mrs. Waylor chimed in. “One good thing came out of this: we know they’re frightened, whoever they may be.”

  “They know we’re onto them,” Appoline said with a nod, “which tells us we are on the right track.”

  “It’s the Shadowveils,” Kay said, crossing his arms. “I know it.”

  “Either them or someone working for them,” Appoline said. “Until we know for sure, we have to be more careful about who we talk to from now on.” She twisted around on the couch and looked each of them in the eye. “You three showed incredible bravery in the Ripple, but you mustn’t get involved in this matter. It is far too dangerous.”

  “But we can help find out—” Mira began.

  “Nonsense,” Mr. Waylor interrupted her sternly. “You may have been alone in the Ripple, but we are here to protect you now that you are home.”

  “We weren’t alone in the Ripple,” Peter murmured.

  “Tonttu and Alexandra protected us,” Kay said. “We haven’t got a clue where Tonttu is, and Alexandra’s still stuck in everlock sleep. We can’t just do nothing!”

  “You must,” Appoline said with finality. “At least until we find out who was behind the fire.”

  “And our house? What do we do about that?”

  “Rebuild it,” Appoline said simply.

  “And you’ll be staying with us until your house is safe enough to live in,” Mr. Waylor said, peering down his glasses at Mira and Peter, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

  “It’ll be cramped, mind you, but I’d like to think of it more as cozy,” Mrs. Waylor said with a wink.

  Appoline smiled. “Thank you.”

  “We can tell scary stories at night,” Peter said, picking up the candle and holding it so it cast ghoulish shadows across his face.

  “Not that we need them,” Mira said, holding herself. We’ve had quite enough scares today, she thought to herself.

  At night, Mira, Peter, and Kay slept in the living room next to the workshop while Appoline stayed in Peter’s bedroom. As promised, Mrs. Waylor gave them so many blankets and pillows that their makeshift beds on the floor truly were cozy.

  They were to live this way while their home was rebuilt by carpenters, including Red’s father. Mr. Waylor left his shop in the hands of his wife while he spent his days helping the carpenters. Mr. Avery, Lynette’s father, often joined them after his work at the library, helping to carry planks of wood or swing a hammer wherever it was needed. Even Zarek, the traveling merchant who came to sell his leather goods in Crispin every summer, packed up his rickety stand in the town square at midday every day and joined the builders.

  “Got to help each other,” Zarek said the first day after the fire when he came by the townhouse and noticed Mira and Kay solemnly watching the carpenters at work from across the street. The merchant was wearing his usual patched, baggy pants held up by a wide leather belt. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he wore a hoop earring in one ear. “Don’t matter if I’m passin’ through a town or settin’ up shop—when I see someone needin’ a hand, I lend one.”

  He grinned widely at the bewildered looks Mira and Kay were giving him, revealing a missing tooth. From his wrist, he unfastened a leather bracelet with the pattern of a shining star stitched in its center and tossed it to Kay.

  “Don’t look so glum, buddy,” he chuckled. “Keep your chin up. That way, you’ll see today’s a new day.”

  Kay smiled at that, fastening the bracelet on his arm.

  It wasn’t so bad, Mira realized, now that she knew there were quite a few people in Crispin who truly wanted them there. Appoline was back on her feet with the help of a wooden crutch, and as she insisted that the children forget about the way the fire had started—and refused to talk about it whenever Mira brought it up—it was easy to feel like things were going back to normal.

  Lynette and Red came by the puppet shop nearly every day, pulling Mira, Peter, and Kay over to the town square or the Mosswoods to play. Red often brought his new, rather large dog along.

  “Oberon’s good at sniffing out danger,” he said, patting the dog’s head proudly when he brought him to the town square to show him off. “He could tell that my mother’s pie was burning the other day—wouldn’t stop barking and trying to get into the kitchen. He’ll warn us of any fires and the like.”

  Mira considered the drooling dog, whose gaze was fixed on the spiced almond stand a few feet away and was only broken when a man carrying a bag out of the butcher shop caught his eye. She wondered if Oberon’s barking wasn’t more a demand for food than a warning for danger, but she petted him affectionately all the same.

  Several days after the fire, Mira was sitting alone on a bench outside the puppet shop, playing with a local cat while Kay and Peter were playing marbles up in the living room. With flicks of her fingers, she summoned drops of water in the air, and the cat attacked them as if they were particularly irksome insects.
r />   Mira giggled and turned when she heard the sound echoed back to her from across the street. A group of small kids was running towards her, pointing up at a folded piece of paper that flapped its symmetrical wings against the gentle breeze, earning appreciative exclamations from the little spectators who squinted up at it from below.

  Mira gasped and jumped to her feet, startling the cat, which darted away into an alley. The enchanted letter, in the shape of a bird, made its way straight to her. She reached up, and it landed gracefully in the palm of her hand.

  The children skidded to a halt in front of her, letting out a mixture of awed and disappointed sounds. Mira let out a giggle in her excitement. As elated as she was, she summoned a perfect fountain of water straight up from the palm of her other hand, letting the little drops rain down on the children. They screamed and laughed, turning their faces up as if it was the first rain of summer. With that, Mira spun around and ran inside.

  “Tonttu’s sent us a letter!” she exclaimed when she reached Peter’s living room. Kay looked up from the row of marbles he was rearranging as Mira fumbled with the delicate folds in the paper, not wanting to tear it in her haste to open it. “Look, he’s finally sent us word of what he’s been up to!”

  “Go on, read it!” Peter ushered, kneeling up immediately.

  “Here,” Mira said when she finally unfolded the letter to see the familiar neat cursive writing of their friend.

  Dearest children,

  Forgive my silence, as I have turned to my people in my search for answers, and it has been exceedingly difficult to find an opening through which to send you a letter. I mean, of course, that I am underground and that the lands of the gnomes in the Great City of Ivaldia are hardly connected to the world above. Not many gnomes are as fond of the open air as yours truly.

  I digress. I am still searching for the antidote underground, though I have found more peculiar things than I expected and more to do with a different world that resides under the surface. I cannot divulge more in this letter, but I hope to see you soon with better news. For now, if you ever need to speak to me, all you have to do is state my name into the depths of the earth—the deeper, the better.