The Thief

I’d helped Camille. I hadn’t run away, and maybe it was the adrenaline that hadn’t left my system yet, but that felt good.

He brought back two mugs and set a steaming mug of cocoa in front of me. He leaned back in the booth with a cup of tea. I took a sip; the sweet taste of chocolate and cream further bolstered my spirits.

“Mr. Katsura...”

“Gabriel, please.”

“Gabriel. This doesn’t...um...” I laughed nervously, “this doesn’t happen to you often, does it?”

“A teenage redneck attacking my ward in a cafe? I can safely say that has never happened before,” he said with a smile. “Granted I’ve only had the cafe a couple of months, so it’s hard to form a pattern that quickly. But I’ve cleaned up my share of broken jars over the years.” He gazed calmly over the chairs the fight had put in disarray. “Someone put him up to this...that boy isn’t clever enough to hatch a plan on his own. Are you familiar with him?”

“No, sir.”

“Probably for the best,” he said. “He was never going to have a simple life. But then, never was Camille.”

“What happened to her?” I asked. “She started off so strong, but then it all drained away so quickly.”

He gave me an evaluating look, seemingly satisfied by my concern.

“Camille has a condition,” he said. “She has amazing strength, agility, and endurance - but she has a limit, and a temper that drives her to it. If she crosses that line...” he shook his head. “I don’t know what will happen to her. I can’t be with her all the time. Can I ask you to watch over her while you’re at school? Help her stay calm, and avoid confrontations. It would ease my mind.”

“Um, sure,” I said. “It’s just...” I trailed off.

“What is it?”

“Well, we have a lot of annoying people at school,” I said, thinking it sounded silly.

He smiled. “I expected as much. That’s normal.” He glanced at the broken jar of tea. “Granted, this sort of behavior isn’t.”

“Do you have any idea what that guy wanted?” I asked.

He sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. And I’m not in any position to improve the situation. Several people are convinced I have this particular weapon, and the simple fact is, I do not. It used to belong to the Tailor family. It’s an old heirloom of theirs. It went missing several years ago and somehow the blame fell on me.”

“So you don’t have any idea where it is?”

“I have several,” he said lightly, “none of which have satisfied your English teacher. I hadn’t expected others to come looking for it, though...just one more twist to the puzzle, I suppose. Would you like a ride home? I’d hate to think of you walking in this mess.”

I looked out at the rain, falling heavier now. “Thank you,” I said, embarrassed I didn’t have my own transportation.

“Just let me go check on Camille and we’ll get you ferried home.”

In the car, rain pattered against the windshield as we left the cafe parking lot.

“Now that we’re out of her earshot, I have to tell you something,” Gabriel said. “You should stop looking for your father.” For Dad? I hadn’t thought about him in days. The brief guilt I felt was pushed aside by the fear that always accompanied thoughts of him.

I went very still. The sound of the car’s wipers was overloud. “What do you know about him?” I almost whispered.

“Oh, goodness, I began that badly. What I meant to say was, I’m very certain that he’s in no danger. The one you should worry about is you.”

“I’m...I don’t understand,” I said.

He sighed unhappily. “Simon is not a good man. You have probably gathered this. Others will have been too polite to tell you directly. And perhaps you’ll write off my words as untrustworthy, not knowing me, but I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to speak with you again, and you deserve to know the truth.” His eyes were on the road ahead as he spoke. “The day after your father left New York, I saw him in Tokyo.”

“What?” I gasped. What could he have been doing there?

“There was a certain artifact I possessed,” he said grimly, “that protected Camille from being found by someone very dangerous. I spotted Simon in the subway, but he was too far away to reach. When I got home, the item was gone. I’m not accustomed to being stolen from.”

“It could have been a coincidence,” I said. “Maybe someone else took it.”

“I can’t help but notice you took the premise of a protective artifact very easily,” he said. “May I be more candid?”

I nodded, though unsure what he meant.

“It was a mirror. Not just any mirror, mind you, a magic mirror.” He glanced at me, gauging my reaction, and continued. “Different mirrors do different things. This one was small, a mere hand mirror, by appearance of no consequence. But it projected a protective barrier wide enough to cover our neighborhood and run interference on those who would locate one as powerful as Camille. With the barrier gone, we had to move, and quickly. There was only one other place in the world I knew of with a similar barrier - a larger one, practically built in.” His mouth twisted. “Practically. So, we moved to Havenwood.”

I suddenly remembered the book I’d seen in the apartment, with the illustration of a silver-handled mirror with a vinelike design. All his research - had he been looking for a magic mirror the whole time? I fought to keep my expression even. “Why are you telling me all this?” I asked.

“Because I fear what Simon has planned,” he said. “And not just me. Your grandmother...Tailor...well, not Charlotte, but she’ll come around soon enough. I’m telling you all this because you have been the only person near him in the past fifteen years. I’m telling you this because I’m hoping you can help me piece together what he’s been doing.”

He pulled into the driveway of Bea’s house and shut off the engine. He looked at me, expectantly.

Right then, I wanted nothing more than to be in the Tower, where confidence would flood me, and I could hold my own. I wanted to be where I had some control. Instead I was stuck outside my mirror, in this car, with a man who clearly knew too much and yet still was demanding information from me. Unbidden, I began to shake. “What do you want from me?” I asked. “He never tells me anything. Never. I come home from school, he’s not there. I ask what he’s doing, he yells at me for being nosy. I try to stay out of his way, he says I’m not taking care of the apartment.” I started to cry, all of it coming back in an unwanted rush. “He lives at the university, he hides in his room. He doesn’t care what I do as long as the place is clean and I don’t make a noise. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. I’m a maid, not his daughter, and I think...I think he hates me...” I broke down, in the passenger seat of a stranger’s car. Did I hope he’d be comforting? I didn’t know what to think.

He reached over and pulled a packet of tissues out of the glove compartment, and handed them to me.

I made a choked sort of laugh, and blew my nose.

“I know this is difficult,” he said. “And unfortunately, it’s going to become more difficult before it gets any better. You’re a teenager,” he said wryly. “It’s a horrible time of life. But it’s also when you begin to choose the sort of person you want to be. You can give in to fear and doubt and selfish impulses, or you can become the person you wish others would be. Kind. Giving. Supportive. You know, the sort of person who breaks jars over thugs to help their friends.”

I made a weak smile. “Is Camille really going to be okay?”

He smiled. “With good friends, she will be. I’m certain of it.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” I said. I wondered if there was some connection to the orchard mirror, but I couldn’t tell him about that. I’d promised Rhys, and as nice as he’d been, I wasn’t sure I trusted Gabriel yet.

“If you think of anything else,” he said gently, “you know where to find me.”

I looked up; Bea had opened the front door, looking out. I thanked Gabriel, and left the car swiftly, jogging through the rain up to the porch.

“Where were you?” she asked.