Chapter Text
She had no memories of her life before she was found and adopted by the old bookseller as a small child. To her, her whole world had always consisted of this place. The quiet cozy shop filled with the smell of paper and ink of the newer books, and the musty comforting smell of the old ones. Where dust motes floated lazily in sunbeams and time seemed to slow. Her only family was the kind old man with the wispy hair and gentle eyes. But her friends, oh those were quite the crew. Pirates and treasure hunters, lost heiresses and princes in disguise, dashing heroes and dastardly villains, each one of them living in the pages of her beloved books. She shared in their grand adventures each day, then returned to her warm and safe bed each night.
But all dreams have to end, and all children have to grow up. And as she did, reality intruded upon her cozy world. There were less adventures in the exotic jungle, and more stocking of shelves and tallying of receipts. Not that she stopped reading of course, revisiting her old favorites time and time again, and discovering new ones. Reading was both a pleasure and an excellent way to stretch one's mind. But those were fantasy and this was reality, and a firm border had to be drawn between the two. Adventures belonged firmly on the pages of a book, and a practical and rational mind is what would thrive in the real world.
And so as she built her life around the idea of quiet contentment in a stable and peaceful life, her dreams and yearnings for adventure and the unknown slowly faded. Like a fire dimming, they shrank down to the merest ember, for all appearances cold and still. But like a real ember, they still smoldered waiting to be awoken someday.
It was a quiet day, in a string of quiet days that each blended into the last, when her orderly world was turned upside down.
She stared dumbfounded at the paper in her hand, “Rent? What are you talking about? Mr. Aberly owns this shop, we’ve never paid rent.”
She had never had the dubious pleasure of meeting the man standing on the other side of the counter from her, but she was aware of who he was. Mr Ogden was a wealthy landowner with aspirations of nobility, known for his strict adherence to anything trending in high society, along with his poor treatment of those he considered beneath him. Though perhaps he should have skipped the current fashion of longer sideburns, as the patchy growths along his face more closely resembled a bird in molting than any sort of noble elegance.
She had not, however, heard of him being involved in any scams or things of that nature, so she was rather confused when he showed up in her shop, handing her a letter that informed her of the exorbitantly high rent he intended to begin charging.
“Yes, well, now that I own the property, I will be charging a suitable fee for the use of my valuable real estate,” he said smugly.
Not even acknowledging the ‘suitable’ part, she said again “I don’t know what you are talking about. Mr Aberly owns both this shop and the land. He inherited it before I even lived here.”
He replied with a condescendingly sympathetic smile, “I’m afraid you’ve been misled my dear. Oh perhaps not intentionally, Mr Aberly is getting on in years, it’s possible he’s simply confused.”
She gritted her teeth against the implication and forced her voice to remain calm, “You are the one who is mistaken. Mr Aberly owns this place and we have the land deed to prove it.”
“Oh? Perhaps you would be willing to show it to me then. You understand that I cannot simply take you at your word.”
His confident smile made her hesitate. Surely if this was a scheme to extort money out of them, he wouldn’t look so self assured. No, this had to be a mistake, perhaps he simply had read the wrong location and would realize his error as soon as she showed him their deed. And then leave.
“Please wait here a moment while I go fetch it,” she said before hurrying to the back room. Pushing aside a box on the lowest shelf she pulled out the small, dented lockbox that contained the few documents worth locking up. She pulled the key out of her pocket and found her hand trembled slightly as she unlocked it
“This is nothing, just an error. The deed will be here where it always is and this whole mess will be cleared up.” She whispered this promise to herself as she sorted through the few pages. Once, twice, and again. It wasn’t there. This couldn't be. Her eyes fell on the lockbox again and she noticed scratches around the lock. Oh no, it wasn’t possible. Yes, she had told him before he needed a more secure place to put such valuable things, but she had let him laugh it off saying no one would rob an old booklender’s shop.
Shocked and furious she strode back out and towards the man responsible, pointing at him as she accused him. “You stole it! You broke into our lockbox and stole the deed! You’re a thief and a liar!”
Her path towards him was promptly blocked off by his two servants, both of whom would look more at home in a boxing gym than in the livery that was straining over their broad shoulders.
The shock and dismay on his face was as fake as his padded shoulders. “Really now, you should be more polite to your landlord.” Ignoring the angry cat sounds that spilled from her mouth he stood up, brushing himself off. All pretense gone, his face twisted into a cruel and self satisfied smirk as he continued, “After all, who would believe you over me? A respected and wealthy landowner, who also happens to possess the deed in question, versus a senile old man and a nameless orphan.”
“Get out of my shop, Mister Ugden!” she said, intentionally emphasizing the ‘mister’ to remind him that for all his posturing, he did not in fact possess a title. Mispronouncing his name was an additional childish, but satisfying touch.
“It’s Ogden!” he retorted, face turning ruddy. At the door he paused to call back tauntingly, “Since I’m such a generous man, I’ll give you an extra month to either begin payments, or to vacate the premises.”
Her hand clenched on a book, she almost wanted to throw it, but even in her rage she couldn't condone mistreating a book in that manner. Instead she forced a deep breath, and then another. For every problem there is a solution. What was required here wasn’t anger, but calm logical thought.
And so she thought. For days and nights and into the wee hours of the mornings. She went over the facts, spinning out ideas and outcomes, weighing pros and cons, examining and discarding each one in turn. Until only one possibility remained, she would have to steal back the document.
Although at first glance it might have seemed like an irrational plan, she was quite confident in her logic, as sleep deprived as it may have become towards the end. She reasoned that it wasn't stealing to retrieve something that had been stolen from you. Not that she would be doing the retrieving of course, she wouldn't even know how to begin. But that’s what professionals are for.
And that’s how she found herself in a rather seedy looking establishment. A dingy, dimly lit bar in a run down part of town that she’d been told to avoid as it was practically crawling with thugs and lowlives. Honestly, the best possible place if one were looking to hire someone of unsavory skills and questionable morals. She was rather proud of her detective work.
She made her way to the bar, pointedly ignoring the various stains on the floor, to speak to the bartender. Bartenders were practically a font of knowledge and sage advice in all the books she’d read, and would be the best place to begin her search for a suitable thief.
“Excuse me sir,” she inquired politely. He looked at her and grunted, continuing to wipe a mug with a stained rag. She took that as encouragement and continued, “I’m looking to hire a professional thief to retrieve something that was taken from me.”
The bartender and the nearby patrons all burst out laughing.
One of the men next to the bar says while still sniggering, “If’n ya gave your heart to some bloke ya can’t steal it back doll.”
“Mebbe it was somethin’ else she gave ‘im,” the one next to him added, with a leer and some suggestive hip thrusts.
More raucous laughter burst out around her. Her cheeks were flaming and she was sure she had never been so humiliated in her entire life, but she couldn’t just quit and go home.
“There’s nothin’ for ya here, get on outta here and go home,” the bartender said bluntly.
“But I’ve heard this is the place for thieves and lowlives to hang about,” she protested.
Angry now, the bartender slammed a meaty fist on the bar shouting, “Get out of me damn bar!”
She jumped at the bellow and quickly scurried out of the bar, chased out by the laughter following her. Outside the bar, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath and wait for the trembling to stop. That certainly hadn’t gone according to her plan. What was she going to do now? Find another bar? Wouldn’t that just end the same way though?
Interrupting her thoughts, a man stepped out of the bar she had just fled and called out to her, “Hey missy, I’m sure you’ve realized by now that this ain't the place for you, but if you’re really in a bind, I do have a suggestion.”
She eyed the man warily, ready for more humiliation to come her way. “A suggestion?” she asked cautiously.
“Yeah, it aint for hiring a thief, unless you can convince the man himself to do it, but might still be worth checking out. See, a few days outside of town there’s this cave up on the mountain. Inside is supposed to be a shrine to some demon, prince of thieves they call ‘im. Some people, specially those that might lean towards a more unsavory bent if ya catch my meaning, go there to wish for luck or wealth. If you’re set on stealing something, it can't hurt to get some supernatural help,” he explained, pausing to spit on the ground.
She graciously decided to overlook the lack of manners since he was attempting to assist her after all, and asked, “A demon? Even if such a thing exists, is it really a good idea to go petition one?”
The man laughed and shrugged saying, “You think some divine spirit’s gonna be more willing to grant the wishes of a thief or lowlife?”
She was reminded that she had called this man very much the same thing just moments ago in the bar, “Err, right. Do you have more specific directions to find this cave?”
“It’s a pretty small cave, tucked into the side of the mountain, bout halfway up the path. Best bet is just look for the crows, a whole ton of em hang out outside the cave. His familiars, the guy I heard it from told me.”
“Well, thank you for the information, I shall take it under serious consideration,” she said politely.
He just shrugged again and turned to head back into the bar, pausing for a moment to add, “Don’t forget to bring an offering or he won’t even talk to you. Oh, and a little flattery never hurts neither.”
****
She set down the neatly detailed list of things she would require for the trip and sighed. “What am I even doing?” she thought to herself, “Demons and shrines and wishes. That’s the stuff of stories. This is reality, not some fantasy novel.”
Well, if there was no practical route to follow, then an impractical one would have to be tried. If there was nothing at the mountain, then all she would have wasted is a few days and she would just have to come up with a new plan. Her path settled, she began gathering and packing the items on her list, checking them off as she went. It wouldn't do to forget something or be unprepared. Some small part of her mind whispered that this was like setting off on an adventure, but she quickly silenced the notion. It was merely a quick trip of necessity.
Upon reaching the ‘offering’ item on her checklist she paused once more. She didn’t feel right taking money from the store. She had no valuables of her own either, no jewelry except… She touched the necklace she always wore. It was only a semi-precious stone, jet black with pretty white flecks, held on a simple leather thong. It wasn’t valuable to anyone but her, she had been wearing it when she was found and adopted by the old man. As a child, she had believed that someday it would be a vital clue leading her to her past like some mystery novel. But that was nothing more than childish fancy. She thought of her adoptive father’s understanding smile, and resolutely checked it off her list.
****
Stopping once more on the mountain, she leaned against a tree to rest and catch her breath. She hadn’t realized when she started that the paths would be so steep. She was making slower progress than she had estimated. Fortunately she had planned ahead and added extra food and water to her supplies to account for any delays. More proof that careful thought and planning were the key to any endeavor.
As she continued up the steep incline she began to hear and eventually see crows. Hoping she was near her destination, she pushed herself onward and eventually reached a plateau. She paused, winded from that last climb, and bent over to catch her breath. When she looked up, she saw more than a dozen crows in the trees. She must be getting close now, these had to be crows the man had told her about.
She passed further into the trees, noting that the further she went, the more numerous the crows became, until they practically filled the trees. Unlike the ones earlier, these were eerily silent and almost seemed to be watching her.
Being slightly concerned that they might decide she’s an intruder and attack her, she gently called out, “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to pay my respects at the shrine. I’ll try to be quick and not disturb you any further.”
She was startled when one of the crows suddenly took flight and swooped down from the branches, flying up the path before landing in a tree to the left and cawing, the noise breaking the stillness. She followed to see what had attracted it, praying it wasn’t some other, possibly dangerous, animal. Standing next to the tree the crow had perched in, she could see a narrow gap in the rock face just past the trees. In the dimming light she could have easily missed it.
“Thank you, that was very helpful,” she told the crow automatically. She felt rather silly for thanking a bird, after all it was just an animal, not some mystical guide. That sort of thing only existed in fiction. Then again, she was on a mountain, at nightfall, about to head into a shrine to a demon, so perhaps it wasn’t so silly.
Placing her pack on the ground, she carefully dug out a candle and a paper shield, along with the flint to light it. It wouldn’t give as much light as a lantern, but it took less space and there was no need to worry about spilling any oil, so it was the much more practical choice. Her candle lit and her pack shouldered once more, she headed into the cave.
After traveling only a short distance inside, she came around a bend and started to see some light coming from further in. Pausing, she put out her candle and stashed it away back in her pack. There was no sense in wasting a resource when there was an available alternative. Careful resource management was an important part of any excursion.
Moving forward, she stepped into a small cavern lit by two large, glittering candles. They almost looked as though they were wrapped in gilded paper! In an alcove on the far side, there was a stone slab, scattered with a handful of various coins and jewelry. Those must be offerings to the demon of this shrine.
Though who would leave candles, especially such valuable ones, burning. Not to mention who in their right mind would waste valuable gold leaf on candles of all things?? Someone must have been here recently to light them, but she hadn’t seen anyone on the path. She looked around the cavern carefully to see if there was another exit, but it was just plain stone walls. Well, not every mystery needed to be solved, she was here for a purpose so best to just get on with it.
Facing the alcove, she very politely spoke, “Excuse me my good uhh… demon. I’m here to ask for your assistance if you could kindly spare a moment.”
Waiting, nothing but silence answered her. Well what did she expect, divine revelation? Even if there was some entity here, there was no reason to believe it would actually speak to her. Perhaps she should just make her wish and go. She thought back to what the man had said about flattery. Well, it’s not like it could hurt to try.
She dredged through her memories of the various books she had read, seeking inspiration, and remembered a rather moving plea for aid one of the heroes had given. Despite feeling quite silly for speaking to an empty cavern, she began a florid and beseeching speech. Recited from memory with only a few stumbles and a bit of ad-libbing, she hoped it was enough. She also hoped that the demon wasn’t as well read as she was to recognize said speech.
An imposing voice echoed through the room, causing her to squeak in surprise. “What do you want? And more importantly, what are you offering?”
She hesitantly pulled her pendant off saying, “I’m afraid I don’t have any money, all I have is my necklace.”
“That’s it?” The voice sounded less than impressed.
“It’s the only thing I have from my birth family. I had hoped someday to use it to–” she cut herself off, then continued, instead trying to impress upon him its worth. “I know it doesn’t have much monetary value, but it has immense personal value, and it’s the only thing I have.”
After a pause during which everything was still, even her breath, he spoke again in a disinterested voice, “Put it on the offering table and I’ll listen.”
Letting out the breath she was holding, she stepped over to the table and carefully brushed a spot clean of any dust. She gently laid down the stone, coiling the cord around it, and touched it one last time before shaking her head and moving away.
“So, what do you want?” the voice asked lazily.
“Something was stolen from me, a document. And I would like you to retrieve it for me, please.”
“The Great Mammon doesn’t go fetch stuff for people. You’ll have to get it yourself.”
“But I’m not a thief!” she exclaimed, before clarifying, “Well, this instance is sort of an exception. I mean after all, it’s not really stealing to take back something that was stolen from you. But there is no way I could do it myself, I’d be caught instantly.”
“With my powers I could turn anyone into a master thief,” he said smugly.
“But I wouldn’t even know where to begin!”
“Eh, that’s no problem, I could walk ya through it.”
It wasn’t what she had in mind, but if he could really guarantee her success, she’d be willing to try it. “Ok then, how do we–”
He cut her off asking, “What are ya gonna give me for it though?”
Confused, she said, “The necklace–”
“Nah, see that was just to even get an audience with the Great Mammon, and I was being generous to accept that! If you want my powers though, you’re gonna have to offer up something a lot more valuable than that. My services don’t come cheap!”
The sinking feeling in her chest immediately crushed the first seeds of hope that had started to bloom. “But I already said that I don't have anything else…”
“Wee-ll,” he said, drawing the word out, “seeing as how desperately you're askin’ for my help, and I’m in a good mood so I’m feeling generous, I might be willing to accept a service in return.”
Feeling torn between hope and a suspicious feeling she was walking into a trap, she asked cautiously, “What kind of service would you want in return?”
“You need to go retrieve somethin’ for me first.”
“But I just said I’m not a thief!”
“Hey, you were the one saying it’s not stealing if you’re takin’ back something that was stolen from you.”
“Wait, you, The Great Mammon, Prince of Thieves, had something stolen from him?”
“Oi! Show some damn respect human! This is the Great Mammon you’re speaking to! You should be grateful I’m even talkin’ to ya!”
Instantly regretting her habit of blurting out whatever she was thinking, she waited until his blustering tirade slowed before attempting to mollify him with a sincere apology. “I spoke without thinking, and I apologize for any insult I may have caused. I am truly grateful you are willing to speak to me.”
“Hmph. Damn straight ya should be grateful human. I don’t talk to just anyone,” he grumbled, apparently accepting her apology.
Her mind had been processing his offer in the background and concluded with a potential pitfall. One that she, once again, spoke without hesitation, “How can I be certain you’ll still help me after I’ve done what you asked? You are a demon after all. How about you help on my problem first, then I’ll assist you.”
Not surprisingly, his annoyance rang out once again. “Damnit human, you really got no respect! Ya come here, askin’ ME for a favor, then turn around insulting me. You’re not too bright are ya? Don’t you know anything about demons?”
Although she was a bit miffed about her intelligence being questioned, she had insulted his honor first, and he was correct about her not knowing anything about demons. She only knew things she had read in stories.
“Lemme explain things to ya. First off, with me, a deal’s a deal. I never break a contract. And I don’t let anyone else break one with me either. And second, I couldn’t help you first even if I wanted to. This damn scheming sorcerer stole my powers with a magic ring and bound me here. If you want my help, you’re gonna have to get me my powers back and free me first.”
This was not going according to her plan! No no, this was ok, plans are meant to be flexible after all. Being too rigid didn’t allow for evolving circumstances. She would just have to add retrieving a magic artifact and freeing a bound demon into her plan… Was she really going to do this?
“Oi! Human! The Great Mammon is offering you an amazing deal here! Most people would have to pay a fortune for my direct services! What’s taking ya so long?!”
“Sorry, so uhh, I need to try and find this artifact for you?” she questioned, wondering how she was supposed to track it down.
“I’ll be going with ya. Don’t worry, I can track something with my own power in it anywhere.”
“Going with me? But I thought you were bound…” she trailed off, worried about offending him once more.
“Well sure, the real me is, but I can easily send an avatar form with you, no big deal.”
Avatar? She thought, then asked aloud, “Ok, ok, so we go retrieve this artifact for you and set you free, then you help me retrieve the deed, then we’re even right? We’re done?”
“That’s what I said ain’t it??”
“I’m just making sure we’re both on the same page, it never hurts to be precise.”
A heavy pause filled the air as she waited.
“Well??” he said impatiently.
“Well what?”
“Ya gotta agree to it properly!”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware that there was a proper form for this sort of thing,” she admitted.
“Course there is! Now say ‘I agree to this deal’.”
This was her last chance to back out. She could always just return home and…and what? Find another way? What way? There was no chance the small shop could afford the sort of rent he was demanding, even if she were willing to be cheated. They would be homeless within a few months. No, this was the only way. It was just two quick retrievals, that's all. Just two minor tasks.
“I agree to this deal.”
She spoke the words more confidently than she felt. A strange tension crackled through the air then snapped, and a weighted feeling settled over her shoulders.
“Done!”
The voice echoed one last time before a swirl of feather-like shadows coalesced and formed a crow, standing on the stone table. A crow that looked rather familiar…
“Hey, were you that crow outside that led–”
“What are you talking about, of course not!”
“Are you sure? Because you look an awful lot like–”
“All crows look the same!” he huffed, his feathers ruffling, “What are you waiting for anyways?? Let’s go.”
He swooped past her out of the cave, and after pausing to re-light her candle, she followed him. What had she gotten herself into?