by James Beach
Eric shrugged. “We have no liquor anyway. My parents don’t drink.”
Aurelian raised his eyebrows. “What? Where are they from?”
“My mom is from the Netherlands.” Eric sighed. “She’s a religious separatist, she moved here during Glasnost. We can’t even have beer in the house. So lame.”
Lyita placed her hand on Aurelian’s arm. “We still don’t know what happened. Why is it suddenly better?”
Aurelian frowned. “You’re right. We need to-” he heard a creak from the floorboards outside the door. “Sh!” he whispered. “Did you hear that?”
“No,” said Eric and Lyita at the same time.
Aurelian put his fingers to his lips. They fell silent as he wondered, why would someone be trying to hide their entrance?
There could only be one reason. Aurelian gathered them in close, speaking very softly. “That can only be someone involved in this. Eric, if someone knocks, open the door and step back inside. If it looks like the man who stole our luck, just let him in.”
Lyita shook her head. “Aurelian, that won’t-”
“Sh!” said Aurelian. “This might be one shot.” His eyes ran over the living room, looking for anything he could use. He grabbed a nearby table lamp and unplugged it from the wall. It was now a mediocre club.
“But-” Lyita persisted.
There was a knock at the door. Aurelian stood to one side, where he would be hidden by the opening door. Lyita was fuming to speak.
Eric looked at Aurelian and then Lyita with uncertainty.
The knock came again. “Who is it?” asked the kid.
“Good news,” said the same voice Aurelian had heard before. “If you can let me in, I have an offer. Your fortunes are about to change.” Aurelian heard a chuckle in the tone, as if this was a private joke no one else would get. He tightened his grip on the lamp.
Eric opened the door. Through the crack Aurelian could saw it was the same man from the docks earlier today.
The man smiled at Eric. “Is your friend here too?”
“I’m, I’m, it’s just-”
The luck thief sprang in, lunging straight at the kid. Aurelian saw he had a knife, and was going straight for the spot right below the sternum.
Aurelian swung the lamp at his head - and his foot became tangled in a throw rug. The lamp glanced off of the luck thief’s shoulder as Aurelian fell to one knee, dropping the lamp.
The man stepped out of his way, snarling. “You’re done, fool! Just relax and let death come quickly.”
Lyita sprang forward, wrapping her arms around the man. He struggled to free himself. Eric stepped in to help and nearly stumbled onto the attacker’s knife. Lyita barely twisted the assailant to the side before he shoved her away. She slammed against the wall.
Enraged, Aurelian got to his feet and kicked at the man. This time he connected with the luck thief’s midsection. The man growled and wildly swung his knife in a long arc. Aurelian leapt back of out of the way, slipped on the rug again and fell backwards to the ground. The man looked at both him and the kid on the ground, not knowing who to attack first.
Lyita picked up a chair and threw it at their attacker. It thudded into the side of his head. “Ow, bitch!” he said. “After these two you’re next!”
Aurelian decided not to get up from the ground. His luck wasn’t that good standing. He pushed forward with his hands and kicked at the luck thief’s leg and hit his ankle. The thief went down to one knee.
Lyita picked up the lamp Aurelian had dropped and smashed it against the side of the luck thief’s. He staggered and fell back against the wall. He pushed his knife you to hold them back, and touched his head. Blood was on his fingers. “This shouldn’t be possible. Our destiny arrives tonight!”
Eric stumbled to his feet, and with a wild yell charged right at the luck thief. “No!” Aurelian exclaimed “Stay back! Keep your dist-”
With a soft and obscene thunk, the man’s knife sank into Eric's stomach up to the hilt.
“But…” said Eric, looking down at the blade protruding from his body.
Aurelian and Lyita watched in shock as what looked like white glowing mist emerge from Eric’s torso, so mingle with blood upon the blade.
Eric fell off the knife and thudded to the floor.
The thief raised his arms in triumph. “Yes! That’s it! And now…”
Aurelian took a chance on his own bad luck. He got to his feet, and kicked sideways at the thief’s arm. The knife flew loose, breaking a bone in the thief’s forearm.
Fear sparked in the luck thief’s eyes. “You’re going to lose!I’ve got enough luck now to do you too!”
“Try it,” snarled Aurelian as he got to this feet and rushed the luck thief. The thief swung at him several times, connecting with every punch. Aurelian was dazed, but grappled him into a bear hug just long enough for Lyita to pick up the lamp again. Lyita swung once, hitting the luck thief again but also hitting Aurelian.
Aurelian fell away, somewhat dazed. Thinking about what might happen to Lyita if he failed, he forced his unconsciousness away and lunged with both hands for the luck thief’s throat. His hands missed and hit the man in the chest, still surprising the man enough to fall backward into the door.
Aurelian put all of his will into one remaining swing at the side of the luck thief’s head. Somehow this one connected.
The luck thief held still just long enough for Lyita to slam the lamp into his head. He slumped against the door and slid to the ground, unconscious.
They rushed over to Eric. Aurelian tried to find his pulse.
“He is already dead,” said Lyita.
“That poor…” His eyes teared up and he looked away. “How is any of this possible?” he said at last.
Aurelian felt his own sternum, and then looked at the unconscious luck thief. Following a hunch, he kneeled down next to him and pulled up jacket and shirt.
A complex tattoo of interlocking spheres and abstract symbols covered the luck thief’s sternum, the design emanating outwards to fade into his skin. In a certain angle of the room’s dim lighting, Aurelian could swear he saw thin and misty tendrils leading from this man’s sternum to his own.
“Baby,” Lyita said softly. “Maybe we should go, right now. With the way your luck is going, maybe more of his type will come soon.”
“That’s what I have to fix,” said Aurelian. “My luck.”
He didn’t see any other way forward, than what he was about to do.
He reached into his coat and put on his winter gloves. Then he checked the luck thief’s body, taking a cellphone, a wallet, some keys and what looked like an invite to a formal dress affair.
He went to the kitchen and brought back a steak knife. He looked at Lyita. “Now I…have to do a thing. That I don’t know if I want you to see me do.”
Her mouth was tight, but she nodded. “I trust you.”
He hesitated a moment, and then plunged the knife into Eric’s dead body. Lyita held her hand to her mouth in surprise. Aurelian then wiped off the handle, and placed it in the luck thief’s hand.
He then picked up the luck thief’s knife, and kneeled next to him.
Aurelian found himself thinking back to when he was just a child, on his father’s farm. His father had slaughtered a pig in front of him to, as he said, “toughen the punk kid up.” The pig was tied down. It could tell somehow what was coming, and was squealing.
When Aurelian had tried to look away, his father had cursed and grabbed his chin, pulling his head back towards the sight. “A man looks!” his father said, feeling some kind of glory in the moment. “See where your food comes from!”
Aurelian had waited until his father was just about to strike and closed his eyes. He had done this half from not wanting to see, and half from wanting to defy his father.
He looked down at the luck thief now, and Eric’s body laying next to him. He cursed his own squeamishness. and slashed the knife across the exposed side of the man’s throat.
The luck thief’s blood washed across the floor.
Part of what had been taken from Aurelian began to return. He tried not to think of how killing this man had made that occur.
Then Aurelian nearly slipped and nearly stepped in the growing pool of blood, mingled with both the luck thief and his victim. He composed himself, and placed the luck thief’s knife in Eric’s hand.
He and Lyita wiped clean everything in the room they’d touched, and they left the apartment door open on their way out. Lyita wanted to leave the apartment building through the front, but Aurelian insisted they go up the stairwell to the rooftop and find another way out. As they got to the roof, they could hear sirens approaching. They carefully crossed two rooftops to the west, and went down that building’s fire escape to an alley.
For now, Aurelian’s luck held. He felt better, that way at least. He didn’t know how to feel about what he’d just done.
This was the first time in his life that he’d had to kill a man. How would it affect him? He did not know. Perhaps he still was numb.
As they walked back to where Lyita’s friends were no longer allowing Aurelian was to stay, Aurelian felt the ring of the dead luck thief’s cellphone. He looked at it for a second, motioned Lyita to silence, and took the call.
“Oleg?” said a voice. It sounded like a woman of late middle age. After a couple of moments with no answer, she said “It seems my assistant has run out of luck.” Aurelian almost snorted a dark laugh but said no more.
The woman sighed. “He was with me a long time, and very useful to me. So my message to you is: you take care of yourself. Make sure you live long enough for me to end you.”
Aurelian looked at the phone, and memorized her number. He took out the phone’s battery and network card, smashed them both, and dropped them in the sewer. His blood-covered winter gloves quickly followed.
“Now what?” Lyita asked quietly.
“I have no idea,” Aurelian admitted. He breathed out. “But I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t wait for her. It seems like that’s how whatever luck we have will run out.” He thought of Eric again, and his jaw tightened. “That poor stupid kid. His parents will find him.”
Lyita nodded sadly. “Someone should pay.” She embraced him. “Just like that piece of crap who tried to kill my man.”
He held her close and kissed her hair. “You are fantastic.”
She let go and punched him lightly in his chest. “You’d be wise to remember that.”
Aurelian pulled out the dead luck thief’s wallet, and looked through it. There was no identification, little money, and an event ticket.
“Something tonight?” she read over his shoulder. “At the Hermitage museum?”
He nodded. “He said something about his destiny arriving tonight? Him and someone else?”
Lyita clenched her teeth. “I am so sick of this not knowing what is going on!”
“I know baby. But whatever it is, I don’t think we can hide from it. Going forward is our best bet.”
“Do you think we can get in?”
Aurelian smiled. “I’ve gotten into the Hermitage before. Did you forget you were associating with a thief?” His face grew serious. “But ‘we’ aren’t getting in. You’re going back to your friends’ place. This is too dangerous.”
She frowned and shook her head. “You’re smarter than that. You barely have the luck to not fall down, even now. Don’t make me hurt you.”
“I have the ticket,” said Aurelian. “Only one of us can get in.”
“Is that so?” she said, folding her arms. “And you are sure it will be you? With the way your luck has been going?”
“Of course,” he bluffed.
“Just accept it,” she declared. “I’m going with you.”
They stopped back at her friends’ place. From the sounds in their apartment, they were apparently having dinner. They had helpfully piled Aurelian’s few belongings in the downstairs hallway.
Aurelian sighed, dug through them and found his most presentable outfit. He changed in the hallway. Lyita went upstairs, and returned in a dress that made her look stunning. Aurelian shook his head. It was girl magic, forbidden to men.
They spent entirely too much money on a cab straight to the Hermitage. Aurelian asked the driver to take a long route, driving along the Palace Square before it. Most of the length of the museum could be seen this way. It was very beautiful in the night sky.
The main entrance itself was smaller than one might expect for one of the largest museums in the world. This was because the building itself had originally been made for the convenience of royalty of course, and not for access to the general public. Let alone access for thieves.
As the cab drove around the outside of the Palace Square, they saw some lights were on inside the museum. This must be the private event that was indicated by the strange text on the ticket. Large men in plain clothes had even been placed outside, along the ramp right before the entrance.
They reached the end of the palace square. Aurelian instructed the driver to pull over at the next corner. They exited the cab, and Aurelian tipped the driver well. After all, either this would work or he would have no more need for money.
The taxi drove off, leaving them alone on the street. “I’ve never broken into a building before,” Lyita confessed. “How should we do this?”
Aurelian took Lyita’s hands in his. “You just go in with that ticket, and act like you know exactly what you’re doing there. When you’re inside, find your way to the main stairway to the second floor, and then walk down the hall all the way to the east side of the building. You’ll find a ladies’ room. Open that window and text me when it’s done.” He pointed at a window about thirty feet high, just beneath a bridge-like structure that connected two different wings of the museum. “Or text me if you can’t.”
She looked at the window. “You can get all the way up there?”
“It’s how I got in the last time.”
“I don’t like this plan at all. Can you still climb?” She let go of his hand to feel his back.
He tried not to wince from the pressure near his wound, took back her hand in his and squeezed. “Of course I can.” He didn’t add, because he had to.
“If you’re sure then,” she said.
“Trust me.”
“I do,” she said, and kissed him. She let go of his hands and let her hand trail on his chest, her eyes telling him to be careful. Then she walked back towards the front museum steps.
He stepped away and around the corner, peeking his head around to watch. She walked up to the first guard and presented her ticket. He examined it, and then her, and for a frightening second he thought Lyita might be in real trouble. Then the guard handed the invitation back to her, and nodded to his companions.
Aurelian immediately walked around the side of the building to directly below the window. As soon as he heard the window open, all he would have to do is hop the iron fence behind him. The bridge structure would hide his climbing from the street.
He performed some warmup exercises, and waited. He wished he’d had the time to get new gloves. The wall would be cold, and the night was only getting colder.
He waited a bit longer.
And then…
He barely moved his head out of the way as something flew past, to smack into the wall. On instinct he dove and rolled, coming to his feet to the side of his assailant.
A middle-aged woman dressed in a fine fur overcoat, against the cold of the evening. Eyes glared at him from an otherwise mundane face, such as one would pass on the street without a second thought.
How had she gotten so close without him even hearing her?
He leaned to the side to look around her. Was the man who struck at him behind her? Had she thrown a rock?
Then he saw the designs glowing in the air around her clenched fists. The patterns themselves reminded him of the tattoos on the body of the man he’d killed earlier today.
“You must be the b
itch on the phone,” said Aurelian.
“You must be about to die!” She ran at him swinging.
He’d never been a purist for fighting fairly, even if his opponent wasn’t wielding glowing fists. He kicked at her stomach.
She blocked most of it with her fist. He screamed in pain from where she touched him. It was as if he’d been hit by lightning in his shin. His kick was deflected further by her winter coat, and only knocked her back slightly.
He tried to kick with his other leg, and nearly fell. Suddenly he realized the leg he’d hit her with felt weaker.
“You feel the drain?” she sneered. “This is what you are messing with. This is what you brought on yourself when you killed my servant.”
“He tried to kill us, you crazy bitch!”
“The rat has no say in the actions of a cat.” She moved in closer, cutting off escape back to the street. “Let alone how much the rat is hurt.”
“I am thief, and a damn good one,” he stated with pride. “But I would never take someone’s luck.”
“That is why you will-”
He ran to her left before she finished her response. She moved in and blocked that way, cutting the distance between them. She began backing up to the iron fence behind him. He faked to the left, and then faked to the right to run left again for real.
Her glowing fist caught him straight just where his stomach met his sternum, where his luck had been taken from before. He doubled over and collapsed to the ground, choking and vomiting.
She stood over him, relishing the moment. “This is what you get, when you face someone in full command of magic.” She began pummeling from above, pounding his head and back. Each blow a searing pain. He tried to crawl forward. She leaned over, to strike him some more.
He rolled out of her way, and kicked back at her, pushing her off balance. She fell backwards and lost her feet. He got up, and briefly thought of running to the street.
She got up before he could, and beckoned him towards her with a sneer. He shook his head and looked around for something to swing with. A broken bottle, anything. And as his current luck would have it, this alley next to the Hermitage museum was one of the cleanest alleys he’d ever seen.