Better Cities:Rat the Thief, vol 2, Book 1

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ID xx011201
Prev. Vol 1, Book 3 Next Vol 2, Book 2
Value 3 Weight 1.0
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Rat The Thief, Volume 2, Book 1
A story about a thief named Rat

After the sun had set, Rat climbed the wall, which turned out to be in such bad repair that she scarcely needed tools, almost as if some enterprising hand had already hollowed out grips and footholds. From there she made her way up to the roof to wait for the household to fall asleep, not pausing to get her bearings for fear of being seen. The roof was clearly not meant for clambering around on, but Rat was careful, and checked herself often as her feet slid across the slick shingles keen with a glittering layer of frost. Eventually she found a broad chimney, and bundled up against its sooty warmth while the city, spread out around her, began to slow down, dim its lights, and settle into sleep.

She could see her own neighborhood from here, though not her aunt and uncle's house, buried as it was by the accretions of the district. Still, she looked very intently at the spot where she guessed her house should be, and hoped that Aunt Milly and Uncle Linus weren't too fretful of her absence.

At length the moon rose high, and the chimney grew cold, and Rat crept back across the roof and began to peer around her in an attempt to figure out where she was, and what might be the best way to sneak inside. Rat had never been near a household like this, and didn't know how it was likely to be laid out. She found herself trying to remember anything she'd heard about how the rich lived. Sprawling kitchens and dining quarters. Separate housing for the servants, surely. One of Aunt Milly's dearest friends had worked for a well-to-do family, and Rat had always found her stories very dull, but now, teetering on the edge of the high tiled roof, with no idea where to go next, she dearly wished that she'd listened.

Skidding only a little, Rat lowered herself down onto a narrow ledge, and hugged the wall tightly as she approached the nearest window. She smudged her sleeve across the cold pane, and squinted into the murk beyond. She guessed that this was a corridor, but she couldn't be certain, and she felt a sick swelling of fear, suddenly, pressed against the icy glass, and utterly lost. This wasn't going to work. Why had she thought that this would work?


Rat took several slow shuddering breaths, and then forced herself to investigate how the window was latched, already reaching towards the keyring of assorted lockpicks she kept muffled in the thick lining of her jacket. It jingled softly as she drew it out.