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Reprisal

When it was time to visit the baker once more, Demenik slipped out of his rags and left the alley, careful to make sure he disturbed no one on his way out. As he reached the main street, a silhouette materialized out of the darkness.

"Damn it, Mouse, no matter how many times you appear out of thin air it surprises the hell out of me."

Mouse smiled. "The skill has its uses."

"Indeed."

"Here." Mouse held out a small piece of folded parchment and Demenik took it.

"What is it?"

"What's in it is the better question. A special powder."

"For what?"

"To use when you get attacked again."

"I don't plan on being attacked again, Mouse."

"Did you plan on the attacks before?"

"No."

"Rip the paper and fling it towards your attacker. Try not to get any on you. If it should happen . . ." The boy shrugged. "Do your best not to breathe it in."

"What do I do after I throw the powder?"

"Run away. If he gets a hand on you, drop to the ground and play dead."

"If I fall to the ground he will make me do more than play dead."

Mouse shook his head. "The powder acts quickly. Be ready to run."

"Thank you."

"Good luck. And on your way back home, travel the back alleys."

"You know where I'm going?"

Mouse nodded as he melted into the shadows.

Demenik shook his head and stepped onto the main street.

***

"You look hurt, lad." The baker looked genuinely concerned.

"A small fight where I live. I was dumb enough to be in the wrong place at the worst time."

"Are you sure the money hasn't made you a target?"

"Not at all."

"That's good. I hope that you are putting it to good use."

"I am trying my best, sir."

"Not spending it on drugs or liquor. I would detect that on you and I'm happy that you are stronger than that."

"I am."

"Good." The baker stood. "Time for bath and sleep."

***

Demenik scanned the alley to make sure that it was clear before he left the baker's house. He followed Mouse's advice and moved through the back alleys rather than take the main street as he had done in the past. After five blocks, he started to feel optimistic. A moment later, a deep laugh from the darkness made his spirits sink. He turned and dodged left, narrowly avoiding the Keeper's hand. He tried to run, but the man tripped the boy, sending him sprawling.

"Third time's a charm, boy." The Keeper's smile was terrifying as he stepped onto Demenik's foot, pinning him to the ground.

The packet.

Demenik scrambled for the piece of paper in his waistband. He took a deep breath and held it, then he tore the paper and flung the contents at the Keeper. The powder was fine, like flour, except it shimmered silver in the dim light. It drifted into the man's eyes as he bent down to grab Demenik's head. Startled, the Keeper blinked rapidly and took a breath. "What the—"

Demenik tried to get to his feet and run but the Keeper pressed on the boy's foot, one hand coming up to scrub his eyes. "What did you throw on me? Flour? Goddamn, I can't see a thing!"

He grabbed Demenik by the hair and his fist streaked towards the boy's face.

A staff with intricate patterns carved in the wood appeared between Demenik's face and the Keeper's fist, intercepting the blow. The Keeper's fist made a terrible crunching noise as bones contacted the quarterstaff and shattered. He shouted and his hands sprang up to rub his eyes again, causing him to lose the grip on Demenik's collar. The boy scrambled backwards.

Stick stepped between his friend and the brute. "It's not nice to pick on people smaller than you. We expect better from our elders, especially a Keeper of the Law."

"What did you throw at me?" Spit flew from the Keeper's lips as he screamed. "I'm blind!" He lunged forward in an attempt to grab Stick. The boy laughed and sidestepped the larger man, swinging his staff down to sweep the legs out from under his assailant.

The Keeper fell, pounded his fist against the ground in rage, and launched back up to standing. "I'm gonna kill you little bastards for this!"

"Are you sure about that, Keeper?" Stick said the words as if they tasted bitter. "We are willing to let this matter end. Leave my friend alone and we will do the same."

The Keeper laughed. "Leave you alone?" He held his broken hand up. "You struck a Keeper of the Law. That is punishable by death and I will see the sentence carried out, rat puke!"

"You can't see anything. How are you going to identify me?"

"I know what your friend looks like. Before I finish with him, he will lead me to you."

Stick shook his head and sighed. "We tried, but I don't think we can end this peacefully, Demenik."

"Demenik?" The Keeper grinned. "Now I know the little bastard's name. I won't rest until he is brought to justice."

"Yeah." Stick bounced his staff lightly against his shoulder. "I know you well enough to understand that, Hector. Word on the street is you're the worst kind of monster. I think it's time we did everyone a favour."

Stick took two steps forward and his quarterstaff flashed, jabbing the Keeper in the middle of the forehead, then once on each side of the skull. Finally he turned and swung the staff with all of his strength. It connected with the man's barrel-sized chest. As the staff struck the Keeper's chest, he crashed to the ground like a toppled tree. There was a faint sound of bubbling air as blood leaked from the Keeper's mouth and nose.

Stick stood over the Keeper's body and considered it for a moment before swinging the weapon down hard onto the base of the man's neck, snapping his vertebrae.

He looked at Demenik and nodded towards a rope hanging from a nearby wall. "Let's get out of here."

Demenik nodded and ran to the rope, climbing to the rooftop and accepting Mouse's hand to help him onto the flat stone shingles.

Stick joined them and dragged the rope up. "We left no trace."

Mouse nodded.

"We just killed a Keeper," Demenik said.

"We just saved your life." Mouse wrapped the rope around his shoulders as they walked.

"They will hunt us down."

"That's a problem that wouldn't exist if we hadn't followed you."

"You're right. Thank you. And I'm sorry."

Mouse laughed. "Sorry for what?"

"Getting you involved."

Stick frowned. "We are family. You would do the same for me."

"Absolutely."

"Then there is nothing to be sorry for."

"I will fix this." Demenik's tone was confident.

Stick laughed as he jumped to the adjacent rooftop. "That's what we're counting on, brother."