There was once a girl who lived on the edge of the Outer Fray—

  where lamplight never reached,

  and the world was always caught between remembrance and forgetting.

  Dani had learned early that a good lie was based in truth, but the best lie was when someone wanted to believe it. If the shape matched the shadow, no one bothered to check what was casting it. And once the light passed, the truth stayed hidden in the dark.

  Threadfall was a liar’s game.

  It wasn’t just a game of strategy, it was filled with misdirection and counters, all disguised as honesty. She’d played enough to know that most people didn’t want the truth—they just wanted something to make sense.

  She narrowed her eyes at the board set on top of an old rye barrel. Black and white threads crossed into a complicated pattern, with weighted tokens marking spots where they intersected. Her thumb rubbed the smooth knotstone in her hand as she searched for a winning move.

  It felt like every orphan in The Tangle was watching her, holding their breath, waiting for her next play. Her opponents, Riff and Slider, were getting restless.

  Dani took her turn, sliding her fingers under one of the black threads. She made sure to touch only one. Everyone knew she had the fastest hands in The Tangle, and they were watching her like hawks. The thread was rough, a Risk line. She placed her knotstone where it crossed a white one.

  "All that fuss for a simple counter? By the hells, Dani?" Riff scoffed, juggling his knotstones in his palms.

  He leaned his elbows on the table, making sure to flash his prized wristwatch. Every kid who had ever slept a night in the warehouse had heard the story about how he'd swiped it from a merchant near the Artisan's Quarter.

  And she was the one being dramatic?

  “Look around you, boys,” she gestured around the tattered room. “We’ve already been to the hells—nowhere to go but up from here.”

  They placed their knotstones, and Dani took her time studying the board again. The game wasn't just about the board; it was about people reading. She needed them frustrated, ready to make a mistake and accept the lie.

  Once more she rubbed a thread. It was braided for Cunning. She tangled the threads and anchored it with her token.

  Her opponents sighed, and some of the kids watching snickered. It looked like a stalemate. Most of them could guess the next few moves. Why was she stalling?

  "You guys need to relax. Learn to live in the present," Dani said, standing from her stool.

  Then, she launched into a dramatic speech, her voice carrying as if she stood before a throne:

  “If this is the moment I am to be judged, then let it be now. Let the ashes remember me. Let the threads of fate twist in my favor.

  For I—Dani of the Tangle, fellow orphan in squalor, patron saint of lost causes and pickpockets—do rise not by grace, but by grit.”

  She spun slowly, arms wide, basking in the dim light like it was her divine right.

  “I summon no Muse nor call upon the Weaver’s in their Temple; let them pray to patterns and poems while the rest of us stitch survival from scraps…”

  The crowd chuckled. A few even applauded.

  “So if Threadfall is fate, let it tremble. If the Primes are watching, they can place their bets.”

  While her right hand swept grandly through the air, her left dipped under two threads at once, finding the winning spot—

  Riff's clammy hand clamped down on her wrist.

  "Couldn't help yourself, could you, you dirty little cheat?" He snarled, glaring at her.

  The room went silent. The scraping sound of his stool echoed like a warning as he lifted Dani out of her chair.

  "Hey! Hey, it was just a joke," Dani said quickly. "You know, threadfall used to be just for fun. Remember when we didn’t place bets when we were little? …just a way to pass the time…"

  He shook her roughly.

  Slider stood up too, towering over her. Everyone took a step back.

  "Wait," Dani choked out. "Wait!" She held up her free hand, trying to calm them down. "The game was going to be a draw, a split pot… Just take my share. Call it a forfeit, and you get some extra stones."

  Riff still looked angry, but he paused to think about it.

  "Let her go, Riff," a voice called from the back of the crowd. "I have business with her anyway."

  Everyone turned to see Viper, arms crossed, a small smirk on her face. Anyone who lived on this side of Tenturia knew that Viper was in close circles with Vann Grosse, the benefactor for these fine living quarters.

  With a growl, Riff let go of Dani and started scooping up the knotstones from the board. They were the currency of The Tangle, used to trade for stolen goods or favors. Real coins were hard to come by.

  Dani sighed in relief, rubbing her sore wrist.

  "Thanks," she muttered, walking towards Viper. She was gaunt, pale-faced youth whose sharp eyes seemed too old for her.

  Viper chuckled. "What was that whole bit, Dani? That was amateur hour. I don't even know why Vann wants you for this job."

  "I’m sorry, what?" Dani perked up.

  "Yeah yeah, he's got a mark for you in the Inner Ring. And I'm coming with you. Gotta make sure you get back safe," Viper said with a menacing smile

  Interesting. Vann Grosse didn't give out easy marks, and Viper was fiercely loyal to him. She was coming along to make sure whatever they stole ended up in his hands.

  "What's the catch?"

  "The catch is you owe him. And you're good at stealing things. Any more questions?" Viper said, her voice sharp.

  That was a great point.

  Dani nodded.

  "Good. We're leaving now."

  Viper turned to walk away, and Dani followed her into the Skein's grimy streets, gleaming as she eyed the new watch on her wrist.

  ***

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The Market Bazaar in Tenturia was a chaotic maze of noise and bodies, all pressed beneath a stained canvas roof. Like the rest of the city, the sky remained forever gray in a washed-out twilight. The lampposts lining the cobblestone paths stood unlit to show the hour. They were dark, silent reminders of a time before the Fracturing when the sun rose and set.

  Dani leaned against a crumbling stone wall, observing a heavyset man with a casual glance. To all appearances, she was just another young girl in the market, with tangled hair and unassuming dark eyes. She knew how to remain unnoticed, to blend seamlessly into the background.

  The man’s waistcoat strained against his body, his fingers were laden with rings, and his coin purse swung invitingly at his side.

  Honestly, if a man’s gut prevented him from noticing his own purse dangling from his belt, he practically deserved to get robbed. Dani considered it a form of public service. Perhaps it would inspire some self-awareness, or at the very least, a diet.

  It would be the Will of the Weavers. Who had that much food to spare in Tenturia these days, anyway?

  Several paces behind him, like a shark smelling the blood in the water, Viper eyed him carefully. And behind her, a pair of city Guardians kept vigilant watch over the entire Bazaar.

  There was an opportunity there.

  The man stopped abruptly before a sweetcake stall, his eyes fixed on the pastries. Dani suppressed a snort. This was too easy.

  She tightened the cord that held her shawl to her worn leather tunic and slipped into the crowd, her movements as fluid as the smoke rising from a nearby brazier. The man, absorbed in admiring a cinnamon-drenched bearclaw, remained oblivious.

  He raised a hand to the merchant, creating a convenient distraction.

  Dani’s fingers moved swiftly. A subtle nudge, a twist, and the purse was hers, warm and heavy. The man remained transfixed by the pastry, completely unaware.

  But, for only a second, she locked eyes with a little boy at his mother’s side. She smirked and flashed him a quick show of the purse. Hopefully, he would be in the mood for heroics today.

  She began to retreat, her heart pounding with adrenaline from the lift. But then, the voice echoed through the market square, “Thief!”

  Dani’s head snapped up. The two Guardians were pushing their way through the crowd, their eyes fixed on her. The young boy, barely ten, pointed a trembling finger in her direction. “She did it!”

  That’s a good little rat.

  The crowd parted, revealing her standing alone, red-handed. No time to think. She ran.

  The Guardians’ boots slammed on the cobblestones, their shouts echoing off the stalls. Dani zigzagged through the market, dodging merchants and sending displays of fruit and spices flying. She vaulted over a low table, pottery smashing onto the ground.

  “Stop, thief!” one of the Guardians yelled, his voice thick with rage.

  Dani ignored him, her breath coming in short bursts. These Guardians were the tough sort, and they didn’t give up. She had to lose them, quickly.

  Ducking under a stall draped with old tapestries, the dusty fabric brushed her cheek. She emerged on the other side, finding herself in a narrow alley between two rows of stalls.

  She sprinted, her boots slapping against the damp stones. The Guardians’ shouts were drawing closer; the clang of their armor rang in her ears.

  Bursting out into a crowded street, the mass of bodies, denser than before, masked her presence. She plunged into the throng, using them as a human shield. For once, her small stature provided an advantage.

  But they were still gaining.

  She could hear their curses under heavy breathing. There had to be an escape route nearby, a way to disappear.

  Dani’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She glanced around, desperate to find a place to conceal herself. Taking in the surroundings, she realized where she was.

  This was near Lucas’s place.

  Dust & Echoes, his dusty old bookstore, was her best chance. She sprinted, weaving through startled shoppers. The door of the bookshop was slightly ajar like a silent invitation.

  Lucas, her godfather, had a soft spot for her mischief. She’d often visit him to listen to his tales of the old world. And he’d been close with her parents. He’d cover for her.

  She burst into the store, a wave of old paper and leather washing over her. The place was unoccupied, save for Lucas, perched behind the counter, his spectacles low on his nose, engrossed in a book. He looked up, surprised, but Dani pressed a finger to her lips, then dove behind the counter, crouching low, holding her breath.

  A moment later, the Guardians entered.

  “Sir! Have you seen a child? Dark shawl, about this tall?” The guard’s voice boomed, far too loud for the cramped space. Dani couldn’t see him, but she was sure he was gesturing too low.

  Lucas, bless his old soul, didn’t even look down. “Nope. Just me and my books.” He chuckled, a low rumble in his throat.

  “Are you sure? We saw her come this way!”

  “Perhaps she slipped around the side,” Lucas said, his voice casual. “My shop and Shelbi’s flower shop have a small gap between them. A child could squeeze through easily.”

  Another voice, heavy breathing. “Did you catch her?” It was the portly man. “Tell me you caught the thief!”

  “Relax, sir, we’ll find her,” the guard said, sounding less than convinced. Tenturia was teeming with orphans, and petty theft in the Bazaar was a common occurrence.

  “You don’t understand,” the man pleaded, his voice tight. “That purse… it contained something valuable.” He trailed off, muttering something Dani couldn’t hear.

  Dani’s fingers instinctively went to the stolen purse, searching through the coins. There was something else… a key, cold metal, etched with unfamiliar symbols.

  Her curiosity was piqued.

  “Just relax,” the guard repeated, his footsteps moving towards the door.

  There was a rustling sound, like someone flipping through pages. Dani dared to risk a peek around the bottom of the counter. She saw the man slip a pocket-sized leatherbound notebook into his palm and flip through it. He traced his finger over a few lines and continued to mutter to himself.

  “I must return home,” the portly man announced, his voice urgent. “Recover the purse. You will be rewarded.”

  Dani listened to him depart, her mind racing. A key? What did it unlock? Why was he so agitated? The key, the man’s fear, the notebook… it was all interconnected. This wasn’t a random theft; it was something more significant.

  She slipped the key into her pocket, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She had to know what it opened. She had to follow him.

  She waited until the door shut behind the last guard, the clatter of their boots fading into the market noise.

  “I owe you,” she said, slipping out from behind the counter.

  Lucas didn’t look up from his book. “You’ve owed me since the day you tried to sneak Threadfall Tactics under your coat.”

  Dani blinked. “I forgot about that.”

  “I didn’t. You tripped over the lantern and nearly set the history aisle on fire.”

  She gave a dry smile. “Would’ve been an improvement.”

  “And you cried when I made you glue the cover back on.” He smirked.

  Dani scoffed, but didn’t argue. The old man had a way of remembering things she didn’t realize she’d forgotten.

  “That was the first night I let you sleep in the back room,” he added, quieter now. “Didn’t say a word. Just curled up by the boiler like you’d been doing it your whole life.”

  She turned the stolen purse over in her hands, the weight of the key inside like a breath she couldn’t quite take.

  “I wasn’t planning to steal anything today,” she said.

  “You never do. Not the things that matter.”

  Dani looked up, met his eyes. There was no judgment there. Just the tired kind of fondness that came from seeing someone at their worst and still setting out a second plate.

  “Be careful,” he said.

  “Never.”

  “Then be lucky.”

  She slipped back into the street without answering.

  She headed toward the Weaver’s District. It was a gamble, but a calculated one. The wealthy individuals of the city usually lived there, though there was a possibility he could be headed to the Artisan’s Quarter or the Scholarly Enclave. Regardless, she had to move towards the inner ring of the city.

  Her instincts proved correct.

  After a brisk walk, she spotted the man, moving surprisingly fast for his size, heading towards the Weaver’s District. He entered through the gates of a fenced-off area near the temples, nodding to the Guardians, who allowed him passage.

  Wonderful she thought to herself sarcastically.

  Dani scrambled to the far-side fence’s edge and began to climb, hoping to avoid detection. One high-speed chase was enough for the day. Luck was on her side, and she scaled the fence easily, landing with a soft thud.

  She slipped into the neighborhood, taken aback by all of the grand residences. They had marble walls, expansive wooden terraces, and lush plants and fauna everywhere.

  On occasion, Lucas had recounted tales of color in the old world. She didn’t fully understand it, but she imagined this place would be filled with them—whatever they were.

  She saw the man enter a large wooden house with intricately carved columns framing the front porch.

  Dani hung back, memorizing the house, the details.

  She’d return.

  For now, she needed to head back to the Skein.