The Thief Lord

The lady smiled. "Un vero angelo!" She put Hornet's money in the register. "But his mother should darn his pants and dress him in warmer clothes. The winter is coming. Didn't you hear the wind in the chimneys today?"

"We'll tell her," Hornet stuffed the batteries into her full shopping bag. "Have a nice day, Signora."

"Angelo, huh!" Prosper shook his head as they pushed their way back into the crowd. "How come they all fall for you, Bo?"

His little brother just stuck his tongue out at him and skipped ahead. The two older children had to struggle to keep up with him as he nimbly wove his way through all the legs and bodies.

"Not so fast, Bo!" Prosper shouted after him.

Hornet just laughed. "Leave him!" she said. "We won't lose him. See? He's right there."

Bo made a face. He tried to hop around an orange he'd seen on the ground, but he stumbled and crashed into a group of Japanese tourists. Startled, he scrambled up again, only to start smiling as soon as he saw that two of the women were pointing their cameras at him. But before they could take their pictures, Prosper was already dragging his brother away by the collar.

"How often do I have to tell you not to let yourself get photographed?" he hissed at him.

Bo pulled away from Prosper's hand and skipped over an empty cigarette pack. "But they were Japanese! Aunt Esther won't look at Japanese photographs, will she? And you said she was going to adopt another boy anyway."

Prosper nodded and mumbled, "Yes." But he couldn't help looking around as if he expected his aunt to be lurking in the crowd, just waiting for her chance to grab Bo.

Hornet noticed the look on Prosper's face. "You're thinking about your aunt again, aren't you?" she whispered, although Bo had wandered out of earshot again. "Forget her! She's not looking for you anymore. And even if she is, then she wouldn't be looking here, would she?"

Prosper shrugged. He cast an uncomfortable glance at a couple of women passing by. "Probably not," he murmured.

But Hornet insisted, "Definitely not! So stop worrying!"

Prosper nodded, although he knew he wouldn't be able to stop. Every night, while Bo slept as soundly as a kitten, Prosper dreamed of Esther. Upright, nervous, hairspray-sticky Esther.

"Hey, Prop!" Bo suddenly stopped in front of them again. He held up a full wallet toward Prosper. "Look what I found!"

Prosper snatched the wallet from his brother's hand and pulled him into a dark arcade away from the crowd.

"Where did you get that, Bo?"

Hornet had followed them behind a pile of old crates. A couple of pigeons were pecking at bits of squashed fruit on the ground.

Bo pushed out his lower lip defiantly, sulkily holding onto Hornet's arm. "I found it! I told you! A big bald man dropped it out of his pocket. He didn't even notice it. And then I found it!"

Prosper sighed.

Since they had begun to fend for themselves, Prosper had learned how to steal. Only food at first, but then money too. He hated it. He always got scared and his fingers started to tremble every time. Bo, however, thought it was an exciting game. Prosper had forbidden his brother to steal anything and he told him off very harshly every time he caught him. He certainly didn't want to give Esther a chance to say that he had turned his little brother into a thief.

"Calm down, Prop," Hornet said, giving Bo a cuddle. "He told you he didn't steal it, and the man is long gone. At least have a look and see how much is in it."

Reluctantly, Prosper opened the wallet.

The visitors who came to Venice to see the palaces and churches were always losing things. Mostly just bottles of water or the cheap carnival masks that you could buy on any street corner. But every now and then the strap of a camera would snap, or a handful of change would fall out of someone's pocket -- and sometimes even a wallet like this! Prosper leafed through the compartments but there were only a few one thousand lire notes tucked in between crumpled receipts, restaurant bills, and used vaporetto tickets.

"Well, it would have been nice." Hornet couldn't hide her disappointment as Prosper threw the wallet into an empty crate. "Our cashbox is nearly empty. Let's hope the Thief Lord can fill it up again tonight."

"Of course he will!" Bo looked at Hornet as if she had doubted that the earth was round. "And one day I'm going to help him! I'm going to be a big thief. Scipio will teach me!"

"Over my dead body," Prosper grumbled, pushing Bo back into the alley.

"It's OK," Hornet whispered to Prosper. Bo was trotting ahead of them, looking deeply insulted. "You don't really think Scipio is going take him along on a raid, do you?"

Prosper shook his head but he was still worried. Keeping an eye on Bo was difficult. Ever since they had run away from their grandfather's house, Prosper had asked himself at least three times a day whether he had been right to take his little brother with him. On that night, eight weeks ago, Bo had trailed alongside him with sleepy eyes. He had held on to his big brother's hand all the way to the station.

Getting to Venice had been easier than Prosper had expected. But it was already autumn when they arrived in the city, and the air had not been as warm and gentle as Prosper had imagined it to be. A damp wind had greeted them as they climbed down the steps from the station, blowing right through their thin clothes. All they had with them was a small bag and a backpack. Prosper's allowance hadn't lasted long, and after the second night Bo had already started coughing so badly that Prosper had taken him by the hand to go and find a policeman. He had been determined to use the few bits of Italian he had learned from his mother, and to say, "Scusi, we have run away from home, but my brother is sick. Could you call my aunt so she can come and pick him up?"

He had been desperate.

And then Hornet had appeared.

She had taken them to her hiding place, where they'd met Riccio and Mosca, and had given them dry clothes and something hot to eat. Then she had explained to Prosper that they could forget about stealing and being cold, as from now on Scipio, the Thief Lord, would look after them, just like he looked after Hornet and her friends.

"The others are probably waiting for us." Hornet's voice startled Prosper out of his thoughts and for a moment he didn't know where he was. The smells of coffee and sweet pastries wafted at him from the houses.

Their home had smelled very different.

"I bet we'll still have to clean up," said Bo. "Scipio doesn't like it when the hideout is messy."

"You can talk," Prosper mocked. "Who spilled the bucket full of canal water yesterday?"

"And he always leaves out some cheese for the mice." Hornet giggled as Bo gave her a shove with his elbow. "Even though he knows the Thief Lord hates nothing more than mouse droppings. It's too bad that the wonderful hideout he's found for us is full of them -- and that it's so difficult to keep the place warm. Perhaps something less grand would have been more practical, but of course our Thief Lord won't have it any other way."

"The Star-Palace," Bo corrected her. He ran after the other two as they turned into a less crowded alley. "Scipio says it's called the Star-Palace!"