shower.
The place was not full, but neither was it deserted. The rain had driven in more than a few new patrons, so Andreas the barkeep was more than a little busy filling new orders. I caught his attention, dropped a coin onto the bar, and drifted back into a corner with a mug of steaming cider.
I had only just tasted my drink when I felt a sensation of warmth from the pendant I had liberated from Hazlik's tower. This quickly increased until I feared that it might burn me, so I slipped my hand inside my tunic and drew out the crystal. The glow of the thing, which had been no brighter than that of a firefly before, was as great as a candle now. Slender traces of energy, looking much like small forks of lightning, ran around the silver frame and the runes on the crystal.
Just then, the door swung open and a pair of burly men walked in. They wore the utilitarian armor of the town watch and carried the great hammers of those socalled public servants. As these two cast their eyes over the Red Robin's patrons, everyone in the room fell silent. I whispered a silent wish that they might be looking for someone else, but I knew this was folly.
As the last whispers in the place faded, a third man stepped through the door, between the two warriors, and into the light of the hearth. An almost audible shudder of contempt swept through the crowd, for this was none other than Kagliara, the sadistic captain of the watch. I did not have to think long to realize what business might have brought him out of his decadent office and into the streets.
'Julio!' he bellowed. 'I want Julio!'
Sitting there with the glowing pendant around my neck, it was impossible for me to avoid his notice. Our paths had crossed before, and he knew my face as well as I knew his own twisted countenance. Resigning myself to the fate that was mine, I stood up. Why couldn't he be looking for that vulgar Cordova?
'Well?' roared Kagliara. 'Where is he?'
I was about to speak, when the truth dawned on me. Somehow, he could not see me. Clearly, some magic was at work. My mind flashed at once to the crystal. I looked down at the hand holding it, but apart from the azure discharges of the pendant, it looked quite normal. I was not invisible. . or was I? For all his talents, the great Julio is no wizard. I had never been invisible before and had no idea if I would be able to see myself when under the effects of such an enchantment. I decided to stay still and see what happened.
Andreas was the first to respond to Kagliara. He spoke in a hesitant voice that was hard to hear over the crackle of the fire, but his words were clear enough. 'He was here only a moment ago. You could not have missed him by more than a few seconds!'
'Did anyone see him leave?' demanded the watch captain. No one responded, drawing a frustrated curse from Kagliara. He looked around the room once more, clearly oblivious to my presence. 'The man who brings Julio to me will be well rewarded!' he hissed, turning to leave. With a powerful stride, he burst through the door and out into the rainy night. The brace of warriors spun crisply about and followed him out into the rain.
I let out my breath, which I suddenly realized I had been holding, and sat down again. I needed time to consider what this turn of events might mean. For instance, how long did I have before this magic wore thin and I was visible again? I did not know. One thing that I was certain of, however, was that I did not want to be in so public a place when it happened. I daresay that half a dozen of the Red Robin's patrons would have eagerly handed me over to Kagliara had they but been given the chance.
I darted into the night, welcomed by a crash of autumn lightning, and made my way back to my room. The wonders of this magical treasure threaten to overwhelm me, and I must consider how best to use this newfound power.
October 3rd From the Journal of Julio, Master Thief of Hazlan
Cordova is dead.
Only great effort enables me to write in this journal today. I keep telling myself that by writing down what has happened, I will be able to make sense of it.
After a great deal of thought, I decided that I would use this new power of invisibility to rid myself of that worthless Cordova. For years now I have put up with his ridiculous boasting. How many times have I dreamt of drawing my knife across his fat throat?
Of course, Julio is a thief, not a murderer. I have never seriously considered taking the life of another. But now, with the power of Hazlik's lens, there was no chance that I would be caught. Why shouldn't I do it? I thought long and hard about the prospect. In the end, it was not a difficult decision. Cordova would die.
By the time I left my home, the storm had stopped. The cobblestones were slick, and the deep puddles held the rippling reflections of amber street lamps. To the east I could see only the faintest glow of the coming sunrise. There was a sharp chill in the autumn air, and my breath curled into small clouds that drifted slowly away into the night.
I moved quickly through the streets. Twice I stopped to pull the lens out from under my clothes and examine it. I told myself that this was only a precaution, but perhaps I hoped that the flickering traces of lightning around it would be gone, that its power had faded away. No matter, the azure fire had not dimmed. Indeed, it burned brighter than ever. By the time I reached Cordova's house, I was confident of my invisibility.
Slipping into Cordova's home was not difficult. After all, he was a forger and confidence man by trade, not a burglar. His locks and safeguards were easily defeated. Once inside, I made my way quickly through the garishly decorated rooms until I came upon my enemy sleeping in an ornate bed.
The room was dark, for the gradually brightening sky outside could not penetrate the thick curtains that hung across the window. Cordova's snoring was so loud that I almost feared that it would shake the foundations of the building and bring the place crashing down. Even in sleep he was vulgar.
I looked around the room and saw a lamp resting beside the bed. Stepping without a sound across the wooden floor, I lifted the glass from the lantern and drew out a match. I lit the match and then the lantern, filling the room with an even yellow light. I placed the glowing lamp on the table again, making sure that it cracked against the wood with a loud report. At first, Cordova did not appear to notice. Then, something must have registered in his deficient brain, and his snoring sputtered out. With a shock, he sat up and gasped for air.
'Who is there?' he cried.
I said nothing. It was satisfying to watch his head swing back and forth as he frantically looked around the room for some sign an intruder. His eyes were wide with fear, and rivulets of sweat seemed to have suddenly burst from his brow. As I slipped my knife from its scabbard, I saw in his bloated face the look that cattle must have when they know that the butcher's knife is coming for them.
I struck quickly. My blade sank deep into his chest, and as I withdrew it a wash of blood began to pool on the front of his white nightshirt. He did not cry out in pain, but gasped in surprise. His hands clutched at the wound and came away soaked with crimson. Twice more my dagger bit into him, and at last he fell back in his bed. Blood spread out from the wounds, staining the blankets and pillows.
As his life trickled away, I decided that it was time to show myself. He must not be allowed to die without knowing that it was I, Julio, who had sealed his fate. I removed the shimmering lens and placed it on the table, beside the lamp.
Then, something curious happened. Cordova, though he looked right at me, asked again to know who it was that had attacked him. He could not see me! But how could that be? I had removed the crystal. I must be visible. Perhaps his eyes had grown dim with the loss of blood! Bending low over the dying man, I grabbed his shirt and dragged his face toward mine.
'It is I!' I shouted,' Julio!'
There was still no sign of recognition in his eyes. The old fool hadn't seen me, and now he was unable to hear me as well. I dropped his almost lifeless body back onto the bed. This could not be! I would not be cheated of this moment! Cordova must know who had killed him. There must be some way that I could make my presence known to him.
Frantically I began to look around the room. Ah! I found it! Hidden away in the drawer of the table beside the bed was a stick of writing charcoal and several sheets of paper. I snatched out the stylus and one of the sheets, quickly writing down what I had said before, that it was Julio who had killed him. With satisfaction, I spun about and thrust the paper into his face.
He was dead.
Infuriated, I crushed the paper into a ball and hurled it across the room. Red rage swept through my soul,
