To Trust a Thief

By Arlan Gerig

I had no problem leaving Spark Spaulding stuck in Albanue’s prison sewers. He was responsible for this mess, so I figured Spark could rely on advice he’d given before: “The worst prison is the one in your head.”

I didn’t count on his father’s image, however, to appear in my teacup at the Albanuian outdoor restaurant. I spat the sweet lime-infused tea across the table when Wizard Fromm’s bearded face spoke from my cup.

“Dearest Wizardess Aliyah, I ask you to grant your old mentor an urgent request.”

“It’s unnerving to see you in my hot beverage at my otherwise perfect breakfast.” I managed to hold a calm demeanor.

Fromm smirked. “My apologies, but I beg you to free my son from that toxic prison sitting near your location.”

I sipped my tea while I considered his proposal, disappointed that his face still hovered in the bottom of my cup, tea leaf bits floating through his face. “He’s likely caused most of your gray hair, so why do you still protect him?”

“Can you grasp a father’s love? Spark may even deserve that prison, Aliyah, but we both know how he hates confinement.”

I clenched the cup. “He stole the Albanuian sacred stone that I found in a museum several planets away. They commissioned me to find it, yet your son took it from me while I slept. Not my fault they caught him with it.”

“Where’s the stone now?”

I clunked the cup onto the marble table and refilled my tea. “Thankfully, Albanuian authorities have it now. I know he’s your son, but I’m not helping that miscreant.”

Fromm winced. “I understand your anger. I’ve communicated with him as I have with you, but I’m too far away for my magic to do more.”

“Spark doesn’t deserve such a loving father!” I soothed my rage by knocking the cup over as I left.

I distracted myself the rest of the morning by browsing vendors’ stands. I tried on purple straw hats and snacked on tangy, dark berries, but as the noonday sun rose overhead, the stench from a baying goat reminded me of Spark in his rancid underground prison. Guilt pricked my heart.

“He’s an insufferable idiot,” I grumbled to myself. If Wizard Fromm hadn’t helped me understand my own magic, I’d gladly let Spark rot there forever. It’s more than he’d do for me.

***

Spark whistled an old tune behind the bars of his prison cave, green eyes gleaming as he flicked muck from his bright purple and yellow waistcoat. Guards stood a healthy distance away. The sewage waters, though not deep, soaked Spark’s feet as they drained into the mountain’s interior. The guards paced as I watched in my wolf form, hidden among tall weeds.

I crept to a barred opening carved into the cave face farther away from the guards and returned to my human form. “Spark,” I snapped. “You should rot here.”

He appeared at the window, grinning like he had inherited the world. “Aliyah! I knew you’d come.”

“Don’t push it. Your father wanted me to create a spell to get you out.”

Spark laughed, and I flinched. I peeked over my shoulder, but the guards continued pacing. Couldn’t he keep his voice down?

“I know my father’s concerned,” Spark said, “but the bigger problem is the stone.”

I crossed my arms. “You mean the one you stole from me?”

Another laugh. “You bought into their sad story about tradition and religious sacredness, right? It’s more complicated than that. That stone is the gateway to dimensions extending across the galaxy. I was trying to protect you—and them. You needed me to steal it!”

“Oh, really? You must think that nobody else could have—”

“You might’ve broken the time-space barrier and landed helpless in the Tibuxian quadrant.” His voice rose, and I glanced back at the guards. “You’d likely never see home again, especially considering the Tibuxian’s savagery.”

I leaned closer to the barred window, lowering my voice. “What makes you think that?”

“My magic is far superior to yours.” He turned up his nose and leaned against the small window. “I could have used the stone to escape, but I let them catch me.”

I grasped the bars. “That’s the Spark Spaulding I know. Three steps ahead in your own mind, but someone else always frees you.”

He chuckled. “You only freed me once. I told you I let myself be captured. Why don’t you come with me? If we explored the Tibuxian quadrant together, we’d make a great team.”

Confusion and desire swirled through me. “Why would I travel with an unpredictable wizard like you? Besides, Albanuians have the stone.”

“Your spunk always appealed to me. You brought my wand, didn’t you?”

I pulled his wand from my dress folds, holding it like a dead fish. “Of course, but I have my doubts.”

That action must have caught the guards’ attention. They yelled in some foreign dialect and ran toward me. One pulled a metal weapon and laser blasts singed my hair. With a gesture from Spark, I tossed him the wand. I couldn’t outrun their guns, so I turned into a wolf and dashed into the tall weeds.

A couple blasts hit close, but the grasses hid me. I watched Spark’s prison bars melt, and he crawled free. The guards shouted commands. A bright burst from Spark’s wand immobilized them.

“Aliyah,” he yelled. “I can show you the wonders of Tibuxia.”

Returning to my human form, I hollered, “The stone doesn’t belong to you.”

“But I know more than these Albanuians. They’re simply afraid to use the power.”

I imagined the thrill of adventure with a charming young man who grinned in the face of fear versus my boring practicality without risk. An exhilarating thought, yet I still had questions.

“What about your father?”

“When we talked earlier, I told him I’d only travel with you. He gave me his blessing.”

I chose to follow adventure.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Arlan Gerig has stories published in Havok, Every Day Fiction, and the Animal Kingdom anthology. Arlan recently fulfilled a goal: a Bahamas mission trip to help Haitian refugees. When he’s not reading a great book, writing flash fiction, or bringing wizard apprentice Gwynfar to life in a YA fantasy novel, Arlan enjoys walking his two pit mixes around his Ohio neighborhood.

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