Tobias Jeng's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Tobias Jeng bowed to an empty tent and pretended it was full. He needed a royal invitation, and he had exactly none. The queen was crowning herself in three days, and she believed magic was a swindle. Tobias could prove her wrong. His steam-powered gauntlets did real magic, though he told every crowd it was tricks. That lie kept him alive. It also kept him out of the one show that mattered. He stripped off his moth-eaten coat and sat on a crate. The palace guards had turned him away twice. No name meant no stage. No stage meant no proof. Something chittered under the crate. Tobias lifted the wood. Six little green hobgoblins blinked up at him. They had sharp ears, wiry arms, and grins full of tiny teeth. One clutched a folded paper against its chest. The rest were tearing another paper into strips and eating it. "Stop," Tobias said. "Give that here." The hobgoblin with the paper hopped onto the crate. It waved the folded sheet like a prize. Tobias saw a broken wax seal. He saw gold ink. He saw a crest he had begged past two gates to reach. An invitation. A real one, stolen from someone. Tobias reached slowly. The hobgoblin darted left. He lunged and missed. The whole cluster shrieked with delight and scattered across the tent, knocking over his props. One swung from a rope. One chewed his hat. He stopped chasing. He knew how to work a crowd, even a crowd of thieves. Tobias raised his brass gauntlet and turned the valve. Steam hissed from the knuckles. A small flame bloomed in his palm, then split into three floating sparks. The hobgoblins froze. Their eyes went wide and hungry. "You want it?" he asked. "Bring me the paper." He let one spark drift toward the leader. The creature crept closer, paper still clutched tight. Tobias held the flame just out of reach. The hobgoblin traded, snatching the spark and dropping the invitation into his hand. Tobias unfolded it. The name inside belonged to a foreign duke. The date was the coronation. The seal was genuine. His heart pounded. This paper could put him on that stage. Then he saw the small print beneath the crest. The duke would arrive to claim his seat in person. If two men held the same invitation, one was a thief. Thieves at a coronation did not leave alive. The hobgoblins settled around the fading spark, watching him. Tobias closed his fist over the paper. He finally had a way through the gate. He also had three days to reach the queen before the real duke did, and no plan for the moment both men stood in the same room.