Stealing wasn’t the quickest way to have a good sort of long-term life, but it was the only way she knew how to get a thing the moment she needed a thing. Resources weren’t easily available for an orphaned blue feet, especially one already branded as shoplifter. Nobody liked half-breeds, and she had years of reputation to overcome.
Zenith jogged by aisles upon aisles of exotic items only available on Unseen Street. Gypsies used fortune-telling conch shells to share futures. The local matchmaker wandered the aisles, handing out her card and promising a happily ever after to any magical creature who listened.
Zenith paused at the aquatics. Lounging in livestock watering tanks, beautiful mer women assembled seaweed cigars on planks from ancient ships. The smokes would dry overnight and be ready for sale the next day. Their scales shimmered in the diminishing light. One of the selkies waved a flipper, but her water horse customer stomped his foot.
Zenith’s stomach grumbled, and she went on her way once more. A moment later, she reached the shadow section. She darted by the fruit bins, pausing only long enough to bump into the bin filled with the Stygian fruit.
An armful spilled over the ground, and she bent to pick them up. Each one sparkled bright white except for the bottom. The bottom half of each apple looked as though it had been dipped in black and then rolled in stars. They came from a planet near a black hole, and they held so much more energy than any other fruit in the souk.
Zenith batted one of the superfoods across the aisle and beneath another vendor’s bin. Then, as the plump shop owner, Mother Hubbard, came around the corner, Zenith swiped a different blackened apple and tucked it into her jacket pocket, careful to make sure even Mother Hubbard’s blind dog could see the obvious movement.
As expected, when she did, Mother Hubbard shrieked for the peacekeepers, and a cadre of five Fae officers appeared beside the small shop. Law-loving Fae made the best peacekeepers. They could snap themselves from place to place and had invented the only handcuffs that could hold magical beings. Each of the officers had two or three sets of the cuffs hanging from their belts. They’d materialized sooner than expected.
Zenith grimaced. Farg must have warned them when she entered. She must be losing grace with the old ogre. She sighed. It would make surviving more difficult.
Paden, the leader of the Fae squad, wore a long, silvery plume, sticking straight out of the top of his helmet. Rumor had it that the silvery feather came from one of the wings of the brave leader of an elite band of Fae warriors called the Scíath Sciathán.
The feather moved in an invisible wind. Paden’s mouth tightened, and he hooked his thumbs behind his belt and glared at Zenith. She’d met him under similar circumstances before. If he was worth two shakes of salt, he recognized Zenith, too.
“How can we help you, ma’am?” Paden asked, keeping his gaze trained on Zenith.
Zenith pulled the one Stygian apple from her jacket pocket and replaced it on the appropriate bin. “If I had a coin to buy, I would have, Mother Hubbard.”
The elderly woman crossed her arms and glared at Zenith. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? I wasn’t spit out of Hades yesterday, girl.”
Paden tapped the blustering shopkeeper on the shoulder. “Please explain the situation, ma’am.”
Mother Hubbard pointed a long, gnarled finger toward Zenith. “She stole a blackhole fruit, sir. As you know, those are worth thirty times more than a normal love apple and require great cost to retrieve.” She sniffed. “I want her hand chopped off for stealing from my stock.”
The lead Fae raised an eyebrow. “Now, Mother Hubbard, you know we don’t cut off hands for theft of food. Theft of food usually indicates hunger, and the mayor is lenient.” He turned to Zenith. “Nevertheless, I will conduct a search of the offender.”
Zenith feigned irritation, barely hiding the grin that threatened to bloom on her face. They’d been through it all before. She raised her hands. “Knock yourself out, officer.”
The shopkeeper snorted. “See that you do.” Mother Hubbard marched away, her blind dog trailing after her and muttering about having a word with the backwards mayor about proper punishments for thieves.
The feathered Fae stepped forward and the other four uniformed Fae positioned themselves in a circle around Zenith.
Her cheeks flamed as he searched her clothes and pockets, lingering over her curves. She should be used to the searches by now, but this time seemed different. Paden’s hands warmed her hips. When he squeezed her waist, she shuddered.
The looks of those inhabitants passing by added to her embarrassment. The condescension on the faces of those she’d asked for employment time and again. All They had all refused to give her a chance, forcing her to survive by stealing food for as long as she’d been stranded by her mother on Unseen Street.
Finally, Paden stepped back. “I found nothing.”
“Of course not. I know better. You saw me put it back.”
Paden’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe her, but he didn’t have any proof to the contrary, so he nodded. “You may go on your way. Try to stay out of trouble.”
She nodded, unable to dismiss the gleam in his eyes and unwilling to move until the little troop had gone about their business. The squad moved twenty paces away and Paden pressed something on his waist. They disappeared into the air.
After Zenith was certain they’d gone, she glanced toward Mother Hubbard. The old woman bustled about inside her shop. Zenith dropped to the ground, swiped the single piece of fruit from the neighboring bin, and jogged back toward the exit.
When she passed by Farg, she positioned
