Master Thief

The moon hung low over Alchester, its silver light spilling across the cobblestone streets like forgotten treasure. Clad in her customary black garb, Elizabeth West lurked in the shadows, her heart pounding with the thrill of anticipation. As the guild’s most renowned thief, she had faced many challenges, but tonight marked a different level of risk. Lord Ashford’s fortress guarded a rare artifact known as the Celestial Prism. Rumored to possess the power to alter the very fabric of reality, its allure—and the payment for completing this job—was impossible to resist.

“Just focus, Elizabeth,” she whispered, steadying her breath as she slunk closer to the towering stone walls. Sequestering herself in the deepest of shadows, she surveyed the movement of the guards along the wall walk. Liz knew timing was crucial, so she studied their patterns, biding her time until the perfect moment arrived. She inhaled deeply once, welcoming the sharp bite of cool night air filling her lungs, and then she got moving. Darting through the shadows, her leather-soled boots whisper-quiet in the night, Liz leaped high, bouncing from one corner of the wall to another and back again until her momentum carried her all the way to the top. No time for caution now, she padded across the guard’s walkway and dropped into the bailey.

Shadows were her allies as she skulked around an idle wagon and stacked barrels to a side door leading into the fortress. Once inside, glimmering chandeliers, plush rugs, and paintings in lavish frames greeted her. Elizabeth’s heart raced, not only from trepidation but from the intoxicating thrill of the heist. This was why she had chosen this life. The danger, the thrill, and, hopefully, the elation when the job was done.

But getting inside was only half the battle, so she got busy navigating the labyrinthine corridors, ducking into alcoves when passing nobles and their servants appeared. Recalling the blueprints she had studied in quiet corners of the thieves’ guild, she soon located the chamber that housed the Celestial Prism. All at once, Elizabeth’s focus narrowed, adrenaline and determination surging through her veins. Only a single sentry separated her from the prize. Never mind that the guard was armed to the teeth. She hadn’t come to fight, but she had come prepared.

“Distraction,” Liz thought, reaching for a small smoke bomb secured at her belt.

With a deft flick of her wrist, she tossed the alchemical device toward the guard, the canister bursting open and releasing thick purple smoke that twisted through the air like a mischievous spirit.

“Now or never,” Elizabeth murmured, slowing only long enough to rap the guard on the side of the head as she sprinted past him. He went down without a sound.

Past the purple smoke, the sight of the Celestial Prism took her breath away. The artifact lay on a pedestal, shimmering with an otherworldly light, inviting her closer like a moth to a flame.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, momentarily entranced. She allowed herself that one brief moment, and then the urgency of her task overrode all else. Reaching for the Prism with nimble fingers, its crystalline surface cool against her skin, she secured it in a pouch at her belt just as the gong of a clanging bell reverberated through the hall.

Someone triggered the alarm. But how and by who? No one knew she was here.

Elizabeth raced back through the corridor, the alarm bells echoing like banshees in the night, sending shivers down her spine. She’d planned for everything, including this, but she knew she needed to act swiftly and use every ounce of her training if she was going to win free with her prize.

Shouts from approaching guards grew closer, so Elizabeth ducked into a narrow passage.

“Stay calm,” she urged herself under her breath. This was why you chose this life, remember? The notion seemed suddenly less alluring, given the turn of events.

She found a door and burst through it. Two guards stationed at the far end of the corridor spotted her immediately. Drawing her dagger, panic threatened to surge through her. But she knew there was no turning back. Her wit and agility had taken her this far. They only needed to take her a little further.

Elizabeth launched into action, darting to the side and around the sentries with feline grace. She narrowly missed a swing from one, then retaliated with an elegantly executed strike of her dagger, sending him sprawling. The second guard lunged forward, but she was quicker, spinning and delivering a kick that sent him crashing into the wall.

Gasping for breath, Elizabeth raced toward a staircase leading into darkness. The sounds of heavy boots thundered behind her, but she descended quickly, determined to escape. Emerging into a dimly lit storeroom, Elizabeth barely paused for breath as she scanned barrels and crates piled high to a small window.

With one swift movement, she climbed onto the crates, reached the window ledge, and peered outside. The drop was further than she expected, but just as she drew her leg over the edge, she heard more guards’ voices echoing through the halls.

“Just a little further,” she thought. “You can do this.”

Elizabeth leaped from the window, falling into the night. The ground met her with a soft thud, and she rolled to absorb the impact. Flipping onto her feet, she bolted into the shadows, clutching the Celestial Prism tight.

Over the wall and away from the keep, Liz navigated the back alleys of Alchester, ducking into nooks and around corners as she slipped beneath the shroud of night. The thumping of her heart drowned out the echoes of her pursuers, and after what felt like an eternity of running, she found herself outside a familiar tavern. The blend of wood smoke and laughter spilling onto the street from The Lazy Minstrel invited her in. She took a corner table where she had a line of sight on anyone entering. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.

Soon, the din of laughter and chatter calmed her racing heart. She let her fingers brush against the cool surface of the Celestial Prism.

“Just another job,” she assured herself, knowing it had been more than that. Like all things in life, this had been a test. A final test, if the others agreed. But more than that, it was a testament to her skills and resolve.

Elizabeth raised a hand to the barkeep, Ophelia, who nodded back at her. She knew her drink and had it on her table in moments. The ale helped calm her nerves. The feel of the Prism pressing at her side helped remind her of what she had accomplished.

She was just setting her mug down when Thjorn strode into the room. All muscle, with long braided hair and a grim expression that rarely softened, he spotted Liz, walked to her table, and unceremoniously sat. Along the way, patrons gave him a wide berth or darted from his path.

“Job done?” he asked, his deep voice cutting through the tavern’s chatter.

Liz placed the Celestial Prism on the table. She rarely exhibited such carelessness, but this was her moment of triumph, and she meant to savor every moment.

“Job done,” she said, smirking.

Thjorn flashed her a sour look. “Don’t get cocky.”

She dropped the smile, though inside, she continued to celebrate.

Thjorn lifted the Prism, examining it. “You did good. Any trouble?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Thjorn snorted. Then it was his turn to grin, his expression becoming mischievous. “No alarms?”

Liz narrowed her brow. She knew Thjorn, and he wouldn’t . . . . On second thought, yes, he would.

“You bastard!” She lashed out, smacking him in the arm, a blow the hulking Anolgan barely felt. “Why?”

Thjorn secreted the Prism away and sat back. “Because I didn’t want the last part of your initiation to be too easy. You’ve come a long way. I’m proud of you.”

Liz’s grin returned. Thjorn was her boss and the leader of their guild, but he was also a sort of father figure to her. His words meant more to her than she could articulate. “Does that mean I get the promotion?”

“We’ll see what the other master thieves say, but you have my blessing.”

Thjorn stood. He came to her side of the table, leaning to kiss her cheek. “See you back at Guild House?”

“Soon,” Liz said, still basking in the realization that she had all but attained the rank of a master thief. Thorn’s blessing assured her of that.

Raising her mug high, she took a long drink, letting the warmth spread through her. The Celestial Prism wasn’t an ending but a new beginning. Other, more valuable treasures waited to be claimed and secrets uncovered. But not tonight. She leaned back in her chair, looking at the world anew.

Watch out, Alchester. There’s a new master thief in town, and her name is Elizabeth West.


This story featured the following characters from the Assassin Without a Name series:

Elizabeth WestElizabeth WestA master thief.
Thjorn TargalasThjorn "Heavyhammer" TargalasLeader of Alchester's thieves' guild.

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