Darien secreted his tools in the black garb he wore and made a final check to be certain he had everything he needed for tonight's job. Clad head to toe in black with only the slightest gap for his blue eyes, Darien was one with the night as he slipped out the window and into the darkness.

Although Darien had only been in the town of Halteir for two weeks, he'd made the most of his time, studying the layout of the town and the patrol routes of the guards. With the moon absent from the night's sky, he knew he could bypass security without being noticed.

The cobblestone streets were mostly empty, everyone but the night watch having returned to their homes. It had rained earlier in the day, and the oil lamps hanging from posts along the roadways cast flickering orange light across the remaining puddles. Darien avoided stepping in any of the shallow pools as he didn't want to create noise and leave a trail of wet footprints.

At the end of the street, Darien turned right and ducked in an alley behind a bakery. A pile of wood crates was stacked beside the rear door. Knowing from his study of the town the baker never had them removed this early in the week, he used the crates to gain enough of a boost to reach the top of the wall opposite the bakery. He pulled himself up and laid flat on top of the cold stone, his blue eyes searching for any sign of having been noticed.

No guards were in sight. Darien eased over the edge and dropped silently on the paved stone of a terraced courtyard surrounding a massive tower. He stayed low and moved with as much speed as he dared while trying to keep silent.

Taking a grappling hook from his belt, he dropped the extra rope to the ground and kept two feet of length in hand for the purpose of spinning the hook in a wide circle. Once it was at full speed, he let it go. The grappling hook sailed up the side of the tower and through an open window. Because the three outward turned hooks had been wrapped in black cloth, they didn't make a sound as they secured themselves to the stone of the window ledge.

Darien knew he had little time before one of the guard patrols passed through the area, but he stayed calm and continued his work. His years of training let him nimbly ascend the rope to the window, retrieving the attached grappling hook upon arrival. The rope was quickly coiled and secured, along with the hook, upon his belt.

He dropped off the window ledge and into the room, looking down in time to see a guard in a gold trimmed cape of royal blue walk past. The guard scanned the grounds carefully but never looked up, protecting only from outside threats and not from any already inside.

Darien turned his attention away from the guard and toward the room where he stood. The stone of the tower was only evident here and there as bookcases of heavily varnished wood covered the walls between the pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling. Six foot high bookcases formed orderly rows across the width of the room, but the center of the floor was open with four books on display in separate glass cases.

Ignoring the leather bound tomes on the shelves, Darien headed straight for the four books on display. He knew any item set aside in a library of this size had to be important, and what was important was usually valuable.

Made from pillars of green marble, the display cases were topped with silver cushions of silk. Gold plates had been affixed to each pedestal and etched with the name of the book housed within.

"Talock's Guide to the Creatures of Eastern Paldor," Darien read in a whisper from the first name plate. He'd no clue what the book might be worth, but the gold leaf on the cover was enough to convince him it was worth taking. The next two books were written in a language he couldn't read, but he did take note of the sparkling gemstones embedded into their covers.

The last book was the oddity in the group. It lacked any kind of ornamentation; it didn't have gold or gems, and no title or author's name was visible either. The simple cover of brown leather was completely blank. The golden name plate on the case was his only clue.

"The Book of Passages," Darien read. His eyes narrowed. The title didn't tell him anything, but he was certain any book deserving of its own display case was a worthy target for his pilfering.

The glass box surrounding each of the four books showed no sign of fingerprints; additionally, there was no sign of a latch. Darien suspected magic was required to open and close the cases. Although not schooled in the arcane arts, Darien had something suitable for his needs.

From a pocket on the left side of his chest he removed a drawstring bag of gray leather. Sprinkling the contents gently on the top of the first display, he created a very thin layer of red powder over the entire top of the glass case. Opening a small pouch on his belt, he removed one of the four vials strapped inside. He popped the cork and placed a single drop of a viscous fluid on top of the powder.

Darien took a quick step back as the powder began to sizzle and smoke. He corked the vial and returned it to his pouch while waiting for the powder to finish. In a dull flash of red, the powder and the entire top of the display case vanished.

Pulling a cloth bag from where it was strapped across his back, Darien removed the book from the open case and stuffed it inside the bag without looking at it. He had three other cases to open and couldn't afford to waste time looking at the book now. Moving to the second display case, he continued his thievery.

***

Darien shoved the last book into his fully loaded bag, tying it closed to prevent losing any of his plunder on the way out. He returned to the window and checked the horizon. Faint traces of gray could be seen above the rooftops, signaling the approach of dawn.

Darien clenched his jaw in frustration as it had taken him longer than he'd intended. He could only hope the four books he carried were worth his trouble as he wouldn't be able to come back once their absence was discovered. In fact, he considered it was probably time to leave the city of Halteir, but he had to get away from the tower first.

Rather than climbing back down by means of the grappling hook and rope, Darien untied the drawstrings on several pockets, pulling out a folding crossbow barely larger than his open hand, a single crossbow bolt, and a length of slender but sturdy cord. He snapped the crossbow open with a soft click and loaded the bolt into position. Attaching the cord to the end of the bolt, Darien readied his escape.

With careful aim, he fired the crossbow, sending the attached line across the courtyard to the balcony of a second story building outside the wall. Collapsing the crossbow, he returned it to its appropriate pocket.

Darien shoved aside several books on one of the shelves in order to create a wide enough space to loop one end of the cord he'd fired out the window to the frame of the bookcase, tying it securely. Taking out two more of the vials he carried, he applied one drop of an orange fluid to the knot in the cord before adding three drops of a green gel. The mixture glowed slightly violet but seemed otherwise inert. He quickly put the corks back in the vials and returned the glass cylinders to their carrying pouch.

He opened a pocket on the front of his left leg and removed a hook with a handle grip folded up on either side. Lowering the handles down until they locked into a single horizontal line, he made sure they wouldn't slip on him before putting the hook over the top of the cord.

Darien leapt out the window and slid along the cord, over the courtyard and wall, to halt in the clear against the balcony railing of the two story house he aimed for earlier. He'd discovered during his investigation of the town the owner wasn't home and wouldn't be back for another week, so it had been the perfect choice for an escape route.

Slipping over the balcony, Darien pulled the crossbow bolt out from where it had impacted. He held onto the cord for a moment. The compound he'd applied to the cord ate away enough of the knot for him to pull the cord free and quickly coil it up before anyone on the grounds might take notice of it.

A knife between the balcony doors easily lifted the interior latch and allowed him entry to the house. Drawing the curtains to make certain he wasn't seen, he lit a diminutive candle he pulled from his pocket. He found an open space on the floor and sat down, setting his bag of stolen books in front of him.

It was stupid to check over his plunder so close to the place where he'd taken them, especially when he should've been using his time to put further distance between himself and those who would be looking to reclaim their rightful property. However, the plain book was too much of an oddity for him to ignore. He just had to know what was in it.

"Let's see what's in the Book of Passages," he muttered to himself as he pulled the book from his bag. He fully expected to find elaborate calligraphy or detailed illustrations inside, possibly with short passages written by various authors in a collection of texts. It was completely startling when he opened the cover and found the interior blank.

Darien turned the pages one after another, faster and faster. He knew there had to be something in the book. In his haste, he didn't notice the faint tracing of white energy being flicked off the pages like dust as he turned them. The magic floated in the air in a resemblance of ivory colored smoke. When Darien reached the middle, he found something that shouldn't have been inside any book.

A swirling vortex of blinding white came to life in the middle of the blank page, hovering just above the parchment. The magic floating all around him was ensnared by the vortex and created a column of rotating energy around him for the briefest moment before tendrils of white sprang out of the book and seized him around the wrists and torso like the shoots of a luminescent vine. The tendrils pulled with sudden strength and dragged him into the heart of the vortex.

As quickly as it had come, the energy dissipated, but Darien was no longer in the room. Both he and the book had vanished.