Chaz Fallinger's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Chaz crouched across from the pawnshop and watched the last light die behind its boarded windows. Her wing still ached where the knife had cut it. Beside her, the pink snake-legged creature coiled tight, its many feet gripping the dirt. She stroked its back and kept her eyes on the door. Inside that shop sat her locket, and the crest that proved she carried royal blood. She would take it back tonight. The shopkeeper stepped out at last. He was a broad horse-bodied creature with two curved horns and more eyes than Chaz could count. Oxford Bitterbust locked the door with a heavy hand and grumbled at nothing. His many eyes swept the street. Chaz pressed flat against the wall until his hooves clopped away into the dark. She waited until the sound faded. Then she crept to the rear of the shop. A small window sat above a stack of crates. She pried it open with a bent nail, squeezed her wings through, and dropped inside. The shop stank of dust and old feathers. Pinned wings lined the walls. Chaz's stomach turned, but she pushed toward the counter. Behind it stood the locked case. Through the glass she saw the sun pendant, its yellow stone dull in the dark. Her chest tightened. So close now. She worked the nail into the lock and twisted. Metal scraped. The catch clicked. Chaz eased the case open and lifted the locket into her palm. The chain slid cool against her fingers. She pressed the hidden catch, and the tiny compartment popped open. The crest was still there. It was real. It was hers. Then light flooded the room. Oxford stood in the doorway, lantern raised. His many eyes locked on her. "Thought I heard a rat," he said. His voice was low and hard. "Should've known it was the lynx who's been staring through my window for days." Chaz froze. The nail dropped from her hand. "This is mine," she said. "Your thieves stole it from me." "Nothing in here is yours once it's paid for." He stepped closer, hooves thudding. "But that crest changes the price. You know what a royal mark is worth? More than your feathers." Chaz clutched the locket to her chest and backed away. Her wounded wing flared with pain. Oxford lunged. Her pet shot forward and bit his leg. He roared and stumbled. Chaz bolted for the front door, threw the bolt, and burst into the night with the locket in her fist. She ran until the shop was far behind. Only then did she stop, gasping, the pendant warm in her hand at last. But Oxford had seen her face. He knew what she carried and what it was worth. Chaz had her locket back. Now the pawnshop keeper knew she had royal blood, and he wanted it for himself.