Categories > Books > Tamora Pierce
Once a Street Rat, Always a Street Rat
2 reviewsWhen Briar gets involved in something he hopes to forget and more importantly that the girls never find out about his involvement....They get involved and he need to come to terms about Roach and t...
1Ambiance
Briar Moss stood quietly waiting in the shadows. He was hidden in a corner of a large alley in Summerset. His roughly cut black hair was mussed as he continuously ran his fingers through it. In his decorated hands he held a small cloth bundle; the dark cotton ball was the size of a small rock. The flowers on his hand blossomed black roses. His dark gray shirt was streaked with blood and mud.
A yell echoed down the alley and Briar’s muscles tensed. The subtle move of his muscles tensing was only visible as his legs crouched and he looked out around the corner.
Two boys had found his trip line. One of the boys stumbled and fell on the cobblestones, the other leapt up and only briefly stumbled. Briar tossed out the bundle he had been holding from his hiding place. At the quiet snap of his fingers the bundle jumped to life. The bundle was filled with seeds that quickly began to grow. Plants burst through the thin cotton binding; plants meant to grab, to hold, lashed out binding the fallen boy to the ground.
Briar stepped out momentarily forgetting about the second boy to examine his catch. The second boy leapt up at Briar who quickly leapt away. Well built and well used knives fell in to Briar’s hands from his arm sheaths as the street rat attacked him.
Briar easily knocked him out, using his hilt to knock against the boy’s forehead. The street rats were dressed nicely, in black and red. The dark colors were for their army; gangs from all over Summerset were caught up in war. A new man had come to Summerset. He had crowned himself King of Thieves and the universal King for the people who were not part of the best society. His supporters wore black and burgundy; black pants or skirts, and red shirts. The thief lords from Summerset and the neighboring countries had become angered refusing to bend to this king’s rule.
Briar sighed and picked the boys' pockets searching for their weapons, and gold. Briar had been dragged in to this war as a healer, until his old thief lord had been turned in to the Magistrate. Turned in by this King, breaking numerous rules that had previously governed the streets.
He stood quickly taking the knives and vials he had found and pocketing. The vials were marked to his magical vision to contain potions and magic. Rosethorn would help him dispose of them. Briar stood there staring at the boys before shaking out his clothes; at his bidding the mud and blood stains fell from his shirt leaving it spotless. His clothes were made by his sister, Sandry, and refused any stain.
He left and headed back to the place he shared with his foster family. He shared the house with Tris, Daja, and of course Sandry. One other shared the residence. Tris’s glass dragon Chime, also lived there but she was a bit of a trouble maker.
Briar? Tris’s stormy voice entered his head.
He smiled, that was the problem with living with 3 girls; who get in his head too; they always knew when to find him.
He walked in to the house to an echo of screaming female voices.
“Tris!” Daja’s voice sounded warm like the fire she works with. “Calm down, you are making it get windier”
“Tris quit it! You are messing up my silk and getting me and the threads worked up!” Sandry’s quiet voice, it has a way of soothing you like the sounds of looms' clack as clothe is made.
“Wait till I get my hands on him!” Tris screeched ignoring both Daja, and Sandry’s comments. “He was fighting again! Wait till he gets home!”
“Wait till who gets home?” Briar joked dropping his mage kit on the ground by the front door. He looked up the stairs, “And if it is me, I didn’t do anything! So stop getting worked up and calm down, Thunder girl.”
A yell echoed down the alley and Briar’s muscles tensed. The subtle move of his muscles tensing was only visible as his legs crouched and he looked out around the corner.
Two boys had found his trip line. One of the boys stumbled and fell on the cobblestones, the other leapt up and only briefly stumbled. Briar tossed out the bundle he had been holding from his hiding place. At the quiet snap of his fingers the bundle jumped to life. The bundle was filled with seeds that quickly began to grow. Plants burst through the thin cotton binding; plants meant to grab, to hold, lashed out binding the fallen boy to the ground.
Briar stepped out momentarily forgetting about the second boy to examine his catch. The second boy leapt up at Briar who quickly leapt away. Well built and well used knives fell in to Briar’s hands from his arm sheaths as the street rat attacked him.
Briar easily knocked him out, using his hilt to knock against the boy’s forehead. The street rats were dressed nicely, in black and red. The dark colors were for their army; gangs from all over Summerset were caught up in war. A new man had come to Summerset. He had crowned himself King of Thieves and the universal King for the people who were not part of the best society. His supporters wore black and burgundy; black pants or skirts, and red shirts. The thief lords from Summerset and the neighboring countries had become angered refusing to bend to this king’s rule.
Briar sighed and picked the boys' pockets searching for their weapons, and gold. Briar had been dragged in to this war as a healer, until his old thief lord had been turned in to the Magistrate. Turned in by this King, breaking numerous rules that had previously governed the streets.
He stood quickly taking the knives and vials he had found and pocketing. The vials were marked to his magical vision to contain potions and magic. Rosethorn would help him dispose of them. Briar stood there staring at the boys before shaking out his clothes; at his bidding the mud and blood stains fell from his shirt leaving it spotless. His clothes were made by his sister, Sandry, and refused any stain.
He left and headed back to the place he shared with his foster family. He shared the house with Tris, Daja, and of course Sandry. One other shared the residence. Tris’s glass dragon Chime, also lived there but she was a bit of a trouble maker.
Briar? Tris’s stormy voice entered his head.
He smiled, that was the problem with living with 3 girls; who get in his head too; they always knew when to find him.
He walked in to the house to an echo of screaming female voices.
“Tris!” Daja’s voice sounded warm like the fire she works with. “Calm down, you are making it get windier”
“Tris quit it! You are messing up my silk and getting me and the threads worked up!” Sandry’s quiet voice, it has a way of soothing you like the sounds of looms' clack as clothe is made.
“Wait till I get my hands on him!” Tris screeched ignoring both Daja, and Sandry’s comments. “He was fighting again! Wait till he gets home!”
“Wait till who gets home?” Briar joked dropping his mage kit on the ground by the front door. He looked up the stairs, “And if it is me, I didn’t do anything! So stop getting worked up and calm down, Thunder girl.”
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