I was a shadow, a breath of air, light-feather fingers and- quick hands-I ghosted up behind him, dipped into his cloak pocket, grabbed what I found within, and was gone. His purse, I decided, would be paying for my dinner, though he didn’t know it yet. A bent, bearded, cloak-wearing old croakety croak leaning on a cane. I edged back into my alley shadows to wait, and along he came. I hunched into my lurking spot and thought about warm dinners. The rain started up again, not a hard rain, but a cold one, just enough to get into your bones and make you shiver.

Keeping an eye out, I lurked in an alleyway.

I might have tried somewhere else, except that the Underlord had a word out on me, and his minions would beat the fluff out of me if they could. No luck that day for my quick, pocket-pick hands, and I hadn’t managed to filch my supper or a bit of copper to buy it with. The cobblestones under my bare feet were slick with the evening’s rain. Around me I felt the city, echoing and empty, desolate and dead. A sooty fog crept up from the river, and the alleyways echoed with shadows. It was a late night in the Twilight, black-dark as the inside of a burglar’s bag. But then I stole the wizard’s locus magicalicus and nearly disappeared myself forever.

The magic thief books in order