Criminal

So she moved from room to room with a casual ease, casting her eye over treasures beyond valuing and dismissing them with a blink. Every treasure was neatly tucked away in its place, and Yelena was sure that the Stradivarius would be no different. This was a girl who took pride in displaying the fruits of her 'labors', a collector instead of a thief. Yelena knew she would have had a case ready for her acquisition before she even left the house, and--

There. At the far end of a wide ballroom, filled with cases of rare and precious instruments of every kind. Cristofori pianos sat next to Rickenbacker guitars as Yelena passed them one by one, her eyes barely even flickering over brass plates noting who had owned what piece and musical history and when. She had eyes only for her own prize, the violin that the woman had used to shame her, all unknowing. But then she noticed something out of place.

There was one case that did not hold a musical instrument. She'd walked past it almost without realizing, intent as she was on stealing back the violin, but her brain took only moments to catch up with her eyes and she turned around to the prize almost as though her heels were on swivels.

She gazed openly at the case. It couldn't really be that easy, could it? This girl was a fool, but was she that much of a fool? And yet, there it was. Staring her right in the face. A simple wooden staff, looking almost like a walking-stick, but tapering up from a cylinder at the bottom to a chunky squared-off top. She looked at the carvings, something like crude eyes staring back at her. The staff. Her staff.

Yelena froze for a moment in sudden indecision. Part of her wanted to take it and snap it in half, smash it to kindling and burn it and restore a world where things made sense. She thought of the idiots at the Exchange, all of them wishing for a magic wand they could use to steal anything they wanted, none of them understanding the pleasures of the game, the intricate ploy and counter-ploy of thief and guardian.

And yet...her hands burned with avarice, suddenly, flexing with the desire to open the case and take the staff. The girl, the foolish lucky girl had swept in with just a wave of the wand and stolen one of the greatest treasures of history. How much more might a truly skilled thief do with it? Yelena's mind whirled with dreams of theft that defied the understanding of even the most brilliant detective, of walking into the Exchange with treasures thought forever untouchable. The Hope Diamond, the Mona Lisa, the Crown Jewels...she could have them all, she knew it. Nothing would be beyond her. She would truly deserve their stares, then. She would be the legend they imagined her to be. She would steal fire from the gods and hold it shimmering in her hands.

She opened the display case. There were no alarms. It wasn't even locked. The staff seemed to glow in her vision, the carvings shifting slightly under her stare. Yelena realized the whole room was getting brighter, and she quickly pulled off the goggles before the light blinded her. She tore her gaze from the staff and looked around the room, trying to spot the source of the new light, but saw nothing.

Relieved, she looked back at the staff again. Even without the goggles, now, she could see it as clear as day, and she realized that her vision had improved beyond all measure. She had the eyes of a cat, now, and the whole ballroom stood out in her peripheral vision as though lit by a soft glow. The staff's doing, she realized. It had sensed her desire to become the perfect thief, and had already begun to remake her for the glorious tasks ahead.

It was truly a wonderful piece of craftsmanship, she thought. It almost seemed sacrilegious to touch it. She just stood there, her hand almost touching the staff but not quite daring to do more than just admire it, narrowing her gaze until it felt like the staff was all she could see clearly. Her peripheral vision just seemed to stratify into bands of perception as the staff became the center of her view, the center of her world. All the world around it became a perfect swirl of arrows, directing her eye to the staff that would soon change her life. As soon as she touched it. As soon as she took it.

"That's right," the girl said behind her, and Yelena smiled softly. It felt right that there should be an audience for such a momentous occasion. It felt only proper that the girl who had made her feel foolish, made her doubt a lifetime of skill in favor of silly tricks and magic trinkets should be the one to watch her take up the new mantle of master thief, thief of wizards, thief of gods. She wasn't in any danger. Her gun rested securely in its holster, and she could draw on the girl whenever she needed to, just like she humbled Mick Eden. But she didn't need to, not just yet. Not while she was staring at the staff.

Her vision narrowed down to a single perfect point, the staff centered on it, and all she could see led her back into the staff, into those magnificent carved eyes. Yelena felt a reverent stillness settle upon her, like sinking into a bath of rose-scented water. She would wait until the time was right, and then she would take up her destiny.

"You truly are a wonder, Ms. Markov," the girl said. "I apologize for misleading you, but if I hadn't hired you to steal the Stradivarius, you wouldn't have been in the museum. Given the difficulties in contacting you, I felt it better to let you come to me. But I watched you all the way, through my scrying stone. You are magnificent. The thief of thieves." Yelena felt a shiver of pride steal through her as the bands of sight began to gently rotate, proceeding around the staff as though to draw her into its carven eyes forever. "One of a kind."

The girl touched her back, stroking her gently as though admiring a sculpture, and Yelena felt as though she was melting into the girl's hand. "I'm something of a collector," she said. Yelena listened. All she ever wanted to do now was listen and watch. "I've seen thieves before, Yelena, but you...such techniques, such skills. None of them could appreciate you. Not like I can."

Yelena sighed gently in pleasure. She heard it in the girl's voice, the one thing she'd always longed to hear. Understanding. As her eyes rotated faster and faster in their sockets, spinning until the world flickered in her view like a strobe light, she knew that she never wanted to leave here. Never wanted to leave the one person who truly appreciated her, who knew what magic was and knew that Yelena didn't need it. Her hand dropped to her side. She didn't need the staff. The girl could keep it. The girl could keep the staff, the violin, anything she wanted. Yelena felt herself shudder in rapture as she realized that this was everything she'd ever dreamed of.

The girl spoke again, and Yelena took her hand and walked with her out of the room. The staff passed out of view, but Yelena didn't need it anymore. She had her true patron now, the one she'd been waiting for all these years. She'd never let herself be tamed before, but she realized now that it was because she'd just been waiting for this moment. The sheer joy of it, just the knowledge that she was the girl's possession now, leashed to her as surely as if she was on a collar...it was better than all the sex Yelena hadn't bothered having. She let herself be led down through flights of stairs, down into a vast room filled with display cases. Each one was carved like the staff upstairs. Each one, Yelena knew, was magical.

"You must be preserved, Yelena," the girl said, and Yelena sighed in wonder at the thought of never aging, never dying. "Perfection like yours is so rare, so wonderful, I couldn't just let your gifts wither and die with the passage of time. You understand that, don't you?" Yelena nodded, the girl's every word filling her up with bliss. She felt loved, she felt adored, she felt worshiped. She walked past cases of fighters and fencers, musicians and drivers, each step taking her closer to the destiny she now knew had always been waiting for her.

The display case opened to receive her. She stepped onto the pedestal. It looked just like she'd imagined it. No longer a woman, she knew, but a legend. Never to be toppled now, never to be lost to time or accident. It had been waiting for her all these years, why had she ever thought to fight it?

The door clicked shut behind her, and Yelena felt even thought desert her now in the perfect, timeless stillness of the collection. Held forever in eternal bliss, until her owner needed her again. Her last conscious memory was of the brass plaque she'd seen as she entered the case.

'Great Criminals of the 21st Century--Yelena Markov'.

THE END