Chapter 22: A Not So Humble Heist

Dimitry leaned against the brothel’s wall beside the entrance. It would be foolish to burst in unprepared. Although he was invisible, rumors regarding the ‘disappearing man’ spread throughout the city. Everyone, like hopeful lottery players dreaming of riches, remained on alert.

“Sense anyone?” he whispered.

“Two on the first floor forty paces away, more above,” Precious said.

“Are Delphine and Gerbald inside?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Dimitry clicked his teeth. Precious’s emotional sense had blind spots too. He pressed his ear against the door and listened for footsteps from the other side. There were none. He creaked it open to make a gap just large enough for himself and stepped into the bright red hallway. The stifled stench of lavender oozed from spent candles throughout the wide-open space.

The first floor of the brothel was broader than a tennis court. Aside from four stone pillars supporting the ceiling and the many tables and cushioned chairs resting by the walls, it was unremarkable. Two cozily dressed women of the night sat, exchanging pleasantries during their daytime break. They didn’t notice the door that seemed to move on its own.

Every step elicited a weak squeak from the timber walkway.

This wasn’t Dimitry’s first time sneaking around. He learned from his past mistakes to avoid wooden planks curving out from the floor. They squealed the loudest. Unfortunately, his best efforts couldn’t prevent them from squeaking altogether, but the girls’ conversation was lively enough to make up for his lack. Dimitry reached the stairs on the other side, and his foot pressed into the first step. It sunk under the sudden weight.

A clamorous creak resounded through the lobby.

The chatter from behind cut out mid-sentence.

“One is looking at you,” Precious whispered.

“Julia, what’s wrong?” a concerned voice asked.

“I thought I heard someone coming down the stairs.”

“There’s no one there.”

“Really? Ugh, my head’s been hurting since last night.”

One giggled. “That’s what you get for drinking too much of a customer’s wine.”

Breaths frozen, Dimitry waited for their conversation to engross them once more. Under the veil of the girls’ babbling, he crept up the stairs.

“Four on this floor, two close by.”

The second floor was a narrow corridor lined with open rooms on both sides. Down the center, a woman scrubbed the muck from wood flooring. She hummed to herself as she worked—doubtless a method to maintain her sanity after days spent mopping bodily fluids.

“Do you see this?” A refined voice echoed from a room just ahead. It was Delphine’s. “This is the kind of people we host.”

“That’s disgusting,” a booming voice resembling Gerbald’s said. “How did they manage to get it on the ceiling?”

The last people Dimitry wanted to encounter. If they found him sneaking around, he would face a fate worse than death. He could take the initiative and put them to sleep with the snoozia canister, but it was too risky. Especially since Delphine and Gerbald wore enchanted accessories with unknown properties. And even if it did work, they weren’t alone in the building. The commotion would attract attention. The best course of action was to ignore them until they became a threat.

Dimitry snuck by and fixed his gaze on the woman blocking his path. The narrow corridor made it impossible to walk around her. He quietly pulled the canister from underneath his cloak and a vol pellet from his pouch.

“Getting someone to clean it would be impossible before tonight. Not to mention, we need to make a trip to the Church,” Delphine said from behind.

“What should we do then?” Gerbald asked.

If those two left the room now, Dimitry would be trapped. He lunged forward with the canister, and before the cleaning woman could look up, whispered “snoozia.”

Her eyelids lowered, and her muscles loosened. Dimitry caught her before she tumbled to the floor. He dragged her into a nearby room.

“Smooth,” Precious whispered. “The two from behind are moving; the fourth is still.”

The sound of boots tapping against timber planks and a door slamming shut.

“Lock the door,” Delphine commanded.

“Yes… but where did Laura go?”

“Woman problems, Gerbald. Try to show some sense. Let’s go get the horses.”

They stomped down the stairs.

Dimitry hyperventilated. Delphine told Saphiria to wait for her in the stable. That meant they were on their way to the Church. Dimitry’s time was running out. If they completed the ceremony, he and Saphiria would remain slaves forever.

“How many upstairs?”

“Just one.”

Dimitry snuck into the corridor, up the stairs, past a long hall, and into Delphine’s bedroom.

A massive four-poster bed crafted with trimmed oak and gold embroidered crimson textiles embellished the room’s center. On every side, similarly lavish furniture crowded the walls. Some had marble foundations. Others, exotic woods.

“Search everything.” Dimitry pulled out a nightstand’s drawer. “We need money.”

“It’s all too heavy for me.” Precious squeezed underneath the bed. “I’ll tell you if I find anything.”

He ran towards a bookshelf and swiped his hand between tomes. Damn, nothing hidden there. He glanced into vases resting on the windowsill. Nothing! Scoured every nook and cranny inside Delphine’s desk. Besides scattered papyrus, nothing!

There was nothing here! Despite every luxury, the room contained not a single valuable. No gems to sell, no silver goblets, not even a copper coin! Delphine always had money in her possession. Was she more frugal than he imagined?

“Anything, Precious?”

“No!”

“We have to hurry!” Dimitry rummaged through Delphine’s closet, but it held none of her gem-encrusted dresses. Just simple rags. He lifted feather-stuffed pillows and a cotton mattress to reveal a barren bed’s oak platform. Nothing there either.

Precious struggled to suppress her laughter. “Di-Dimitry… co-control your emotions.”

As frustration welled within, something prodded his boot’s sole. Something solid and clumpy. Dimitry looked down to see a small lump trapped under a carpet’s thick fabric. He stepped on it again and heard the stifled clashing of metal pieces.

Could those be coins?

Furniture weighing down the carpet, he couldn’t lift it to glance underneath. Dimitry chipped a vase as quietly as possible and picked up a jagged glass shard, ignoring the pain as it cut into his hand. He ran towards the trapped object and carved a square-shaped hole. His last hope.

The door swung open.

“Delphine, can I—”

Dimitry looked up.

Stood in the doorway was a girl with disheveled hair and smothered makeup. “I thought I heard…” Claudia’s hand reached to cover her mouth. “What happened here?”

Dimitry froze. Should he wait until Claudia walked away or continue his misdeeds? Before he could decide, his vision blurred and his muscles lost their strength. The feedback from abusing invisall struck him all at once. The hand that held a glass fragment revealed itself, blood oozing from an open wound.

“D-Dimitry and a faer—” Claudia retreated, and her shoulder bumped into the door frame. “You’re the disappearing…” She scurried away.

“Precious, why didn’t you tell me someone was coming?”

“Because you couldn’t control your emotions! It’s like trying to see through a solid wall.”

Dimitry groaned. There wasn’t time to chase after Claudia. He excavated the pouch from under the carpet and looked inside. Ten gold gadots. If only he had them ten days ago. “We found what we came for, let’s go!”

“Coming!” Precious dove under Dimitry’s cloak and gripped the neckline of his tunic.

He lifted his leather bag and tossed the strap over his shoulder. “Invisall.”

The palm that held the vol pellet went numb, and a fire raged inside his limbs and trunk. This was the third time he used it today, and the pain intensified with each consecutive cast. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to rely on magic anymore.

Dimitry dashed down the hallway, shoved past a concerned co-worker, left the brothel, and sprinted to Three Brothers’ Magic. Before stepping inside, he waited for his invisibility to wear off in a nearby alley.

The feedback worsened. He collapsed. Roads and buildings vanished into a gluttonous abyss, and the bustle of the street went silent. Dimitry was conscious of himself but unaware of his surroundings. The world ceased to exist around him. A vast pitch-black nothingness where only he lived and nothing else. Just like his coma on Earth. Maybe the fantastical world was all a drug-induced dream; one last fling before he transitioned into eternal darkness.

Timber-framed walls flashed into existence before him. On his shoulder, an adorable yet annoying creature. Its petite hands’ golden fingernails tugged on his collar.

“D-Dimitry? Say something!”

“I thought I was Dumitry.” He grinned. “Since when did you worry about anyone?”

“Shut up, idiot!”

“How long was I out for?”

“Just a little while.”

“Come on, we have a job to finish.”

He pushed off the ground; his body worked fine. Was feedback a psychological phenomenon? Dimitry burst through Three Brothers’ Magic’s doors, slammed the indigo scarf onto the counter, then dropped two gold gadots beside it.

“Get enchanting.”

“Y-yes, sir.” The shopkeeper pulled the scarf down to a large table, spread it out across the surface, and flattened it. He reached into a bowl on the counter to grab a handful of pure vol pellets before placing them beside the scarf. “By the way, have we met before today?”

“Why do you ask?”

“When you visited our shop just a while ago, I thought you looked familiar. Only when you left did I realize why.”

“Do you frequent the pleasure district? I work as a surgeon there.”

“N-no, sir. Nothing like that.” The shopkeeper retrieved an object with a beige glow from his desk, then fit it into his eye socket. It resembled a tiny lens. “You see, a man came to steal from my brother.”

His brother?

Dread stuck Dimitry’s feet to the floor. He realized why the owner of Inscriber Works resembled that of Three Brothers’ Magic. They were twins, or if the name of the store carried truth, triplets. Were they operating a medieval chain store?

Fortunately, Dimitry’s clothes, beard, and even his lanky facial structure differed since the theft. He didn’t reveal his eye color, either. There wasn’t a way to identify him. The best option was to feign innocence.

His heel bounced restlessly against the floor. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because that man had strange brown and blonde hair like yours.”

Shit. They could identify him. Without time to retreat and plan, Dimitry committed further with unabashed anger. “Are you accusing me?”

“W-well… I’ve worked in Ravenfall for decades, and I’ve never seen—”

Dimitry frowned. “And what exactly do you think I stole?”

“We f-found everything except a p-pure pellet, so…”

“Really? Do you honestly think I’d risk having my back scorched by guards just to steal some worthless trash?” Dimitry held out his coin pouch. “I just paid you two gold gadots with plenty to spare. Why would I steal something I could buy in bulk at a market stall?”

The shopkeeper looked down, dejected. “I just had to know for sure, sir. You see, there’s a disappearing man, and—”

“If I knew magic extravagant enough to make myself disappear, I wouldn't need you to enchant this scarf for me, would I? Now get it done! Lives are at stake."

“Of course.” The shopkeeper placed one palm over the stack of vol pellets while the other hovered above the scarf. “Dispelia.”

The hand glided parallel to the table. It went from one edge to the next, leaving a gray aura that fused into the cloth as if filling unseen gaps. The pile of vol shrunk until the enchanting process was completed.

“Y-you’re all set.” The shopkeeper handed over the goods. “Go save that patient’s life.”

“She’ll make it.” Dimitry took the enchanted scarf from his hand and turned to walk out of the store. “I’ll make sure of that.”