Thief In The Shadows by Tyler Lace (books for students to read TXT) 📕

The hall was large and every word echoed. Outside birds circled in the air and waves crashed against the port. Chatter filled the air as the crowds gathered in front of the stage. A man stood on the platform. He talked with his hands and his robe scraped the ground as he walked back and forth. Everyone in the crowd was paying close attention as he pulled off a large red fabric.

They all froze, standing silently. The man stopped and looked at the empty easel, standing next to him. He yelled in frustration and murmurs swept through the entire crowd as two guards, holding swords, looked up at the swinging chandelier.

The boy gathered himself and stood on top of the chandelier, holding the picture of swirls and splashes. He looked over at the door, then back at the guards.

"The teenager! On the light," called one, more guards flooding into the halls. The crowds ran, screaming and calling to one and another.

The sound of a crystal shattering caused his glance to move to his footing. He pulled himself up, him getting higher. The boy gripped the chain, holding the chandelier, as he heard more shots. "Pathetic," he whispered.

His head snapped to the side and an idea sparked. The swinging light began to move faster. They all watched as he swung himself from one side to the other. He took a deep breath and strapped the painting to his back. For most people they would feel nervous or scared. He never understood why. If you have to do something, do it and don't bother worrying. The thought made him chuckle to himself. Tonnes of things, that people did, made him confused. He pulled up his hood, his black cloak touching his ankles. The boots he wore were leather and were no weight. This made it easier to do stuff like this, which he loved. He jumped, crossing his arms, and smashed through the window.

The glass shattered and fell, breaking again on impact. For a few seconds, all he could hear was the glass and all he was weary of was himself flying through the air, landing on top of a tent. He lay for a second, staring at the blue sky. The sound of guards yelling caused him to jump up and slide off, landing on his feet.

His swords clang together as he bolted through the alleys.

He finally reached an open space, people scattering around with hunched backs. His dark eyes skimmed the area. He brushed off the glass and adjusted his hood once more, using his cloak to conceal the painting, before he walked in to the large crowd.

He smiled lightly as the sound of burning filled his ears and the hall he escaped from was now engulfed in clouds of ash and smoke.

It was handy being able to look distant, no one would question your doings then. That is why the boy was so good with blending in. It was more like hiding away in the shadows and staying silent. Of course, there were times when everyone had their eyes on him. Usually that was because he was running, jumping off buildings or being attacked. He didn't mind fighting but it did get annoying when one person saw your face. Sometimes the person wouldn't dob and just watched in fascination as he fought or jumped. But, sometimes the person would tell. And that was mainly annoying because of how people would describe him. Once he was walking in the woods and found a flyer, with a sketch of his face. It was humiliating yet amusing. Especially when someone asked if he had seen the guy from the picture and he casually walked away, not questioning his answer.

He had found himself lost in thought, because next thing he knew was that he was surrounded by guards. They ordered him to put his arms up. He did so with a clear smirk on his face. His cloak hid his blue eyes from view as they barked orders to one and another, all now pointing their guns at him.

A man, wearing a long brown cloak and black boots, caught the boys attention as he pushed past the armed crowd, holding a piece of paper. He spoke with sternness in his voice. "You are Azad Blackwood, are you not?"

"If I say no, can I leave?" he inquired. The man ignored him.

"Azad, for constant crimes revolving around thievery and public displays against the kingdom, you are under arrest. Come quietly or we will be forced to-"

"Run around and chase me for ages till I disappear, I believe is the end you were looking for." Azad's hand reached for his belt, pulling off an item. "Let's begin now."

Smoke filled the air as he threw the item on the ground. It made a loud noise on impact and caused all of them, but him, to have an obscured view.

"Get him," demanded the head of the guards as the others coughed and shielded their mouths.

Azad took a sharp turn and ran faster. His cloak was flying behind him as he ran.

He grabbed the edge of a roof, for a little shop, and jumped up. He could see them on the streets, running at him and shouting.

Azad jumped on to the next roof, holding on to a lamp post to swing across. He landed on his feet and continued running and leaping.

"Come down from there, Azad!" demanded a guard.

"Shut up, idiot," Azad called back, losing his patience. He was starting to become frustrated and he was close to cracking it.

The boy turned his head at the sound of a few people falling. Two guards had collapsed and, as another hit the floor, he saw the cause. A smile appeared on his face as he caught the figures glance.

"Took your time, Vafa," spat Azad.

Vafa just laughed and continued to run. "Got the painting?" He turned and pulled out a sword, swiping at the guard. The man fell, staring at the blue sky. He turned back and continued to run.

"Depends," he replied, sliding under a high hung sign and jumping back up, bolting. "Got my money?"

"Not exactly." Vafa dodged another attack and ran up the side of a wall, flipped off, and kicked his head. "Better." He turned to see the guard on the cold, stone floor, lifeless. The boy looked back up to see Azad standing with his crimson covered sword. He had a look of discontent clear on his face, making Vafa feel uneasy.

"Better?! Vafa, I need this money," Azad snapped. He threw his arms in the air. "Did you just see what I had to do to get you this stupid painting?"

Vafa slid his sword back in it's case. "Yes, and good on you. You do that all the time-"

"Yes, but this time I am in a large kingdom and the center point of the kingdom, I must add! And it's daylight," he spat.

Vafa rolled his eyes, making Azad feel angry. He always thought Vafa to be a stubborn teenager. But, that day when he had stolen Gems and Vafa had been watching, he was confused. He was even more confused when Vafa offered him a large sum for the Gems. Vafa had turned out to be connected largely to the black market, which explained why he spotted him constantly wearing black cloaks with hoods, carrying weapons, walking to nowhere it had looked like. Azad had thought maybe he was just a paranoid fourteen year old with short, scruffy blonde hair, but now he had shown to be a deceiving sixteen year old boy. He did wonder if Vafa was as loyal to the king as other people were, despite his occupation in the black market. Azad did fear, that if he was, he would report his whereabouts. So far he seemed safe, so dwelling on these thoughts weren't the best pass time.

"Well excuse me thief in the shadows, but I am your main source for money and I have never wronged you."

Azad gave him a look, with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, not too much anyway." He leaned against the wall, folding his arms. "Just trust me, please?" he begged. "Plus, I need the painting. If I don't deliver it then I am in huge trouble," squealed Vafa.

That was the other thing. If Vafa didn't hand in anything then the shops would refuse him anything. It was worse when he had a customer. If he didn't deliver then, then he would get a knock at his door, unless he had fled, in that case they would track him down. Azad still remembered when he had organized to meet Vafa, to only see him not show up. The next day he had gone to his home and had found him with blood running from his mouth and a broken wrist. That was not the worst he had seen done, but he cancelled out the thought and gave Vafa an exasperated sigh.

"What is better than money in this world?" Vafa looked to the left, grabbed Azad's arm, and held the bars that crossed over each other above him. From there, he pulled both of them up and lay, concealing the two in between the curved, tin roof and the bars as the two guards ran past.

Vafa turned his head to the side, seeing out of the corner of his eye. The guards were long gone.

He moved and jumped down, watching as Azad follow. "This, trust me, is worth way more."

"Really?" asked Azad, not believing his friend.

Vafa crossed his arms. "Well, for you anyway."

The warehouse smelt of dirt and sweat, and people were whispering and shouting. This was one of the main markets that both Azad and Vafa were connected to. Looking around, Azad could see stalls consisting of clothes, powders, meat and much more. His eyes found the one he was looking for and he approached.

The woman at the bench was young, a few scars staining her face and neck. Her eye was stitched closed and the scent of alcohol wafted off of her. Anyone else probably would of walked away, but Azad didn't seem to care. In front of her lay prices and different types of crystals.

Azad couldn't help but dwell on what Vafa had told him as he waited for her to be done with her customer. Frankly, it had shaken him up a bit.

"How so?" Azad had asked.

Vafa had sighed, shaking his head. "You hear things in the, uhh, work place. Sometimes whispers on people cheating on each other and what not. But, sometimes, more extreme." He had looked up from the ground. He had pulled out a rare silver coin and had started moving it between his fingers, fast, as he had spoken. "I was at the warehouse when I overheard talk. I pieced the puzzle together and, I have made a breakthrough."

Azad had arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Your parents, Azad-"

"My parents burnt in a house fire," he had snapped.

Vafa had shaken his head again, waving his hand. "Aha, okay. Let me tell you a story. In this story, a boy turned up to his house to only find it burning. Upon entering, he found his parents, lying still on the ground. And your-his Gem, he had received for his eighth birthday, was gone." He had taken a deep breath.

"I know all this," he had scowled. Vafa had a habit of making Azad lose his patience.

"That is the part of the story you do know. So, let me tell you about the hidden page in this book." Vafa had looked Azad straight in the eye, a serious look on his face. "The fire was not accidental."

"What do you mean?"

"Think it was a coincidence that your parents were dead and your Gem was gone?"

"The Gem always got moved," he had replied. Azad had known he sounded naive, but, the truth was, he just