The Wannabe Thief’s Jewel

Inside the treasure hall was King Dorian’s treasure bundle. It held bright coins, smooth beads, silver buttons, and one special jewel. The jewel was said to shine like a drop of morning sky. Milo had seen it once during the king’s spring parade, when the bundle had been carried across the palace yard.

He had not stopped thinking about it since.

Milo did not want to frighten anyone or make a mess. He only wanted to lift the jewel, hold it up to the light, and prove that he could steal one small thing without tumbling over.

He took another step.

This time he placed his heel down first. Then his toes. Softly. Slowly.

“Good,” he murmured.

A warm breeze slipped through the window and fluttered the edge of his coat. Milo caught it before it brushed the wall. He smiled. His plan was working.

At the far end of the passage, Guard Pella sat on a wooden stool beside the treasure hall doors. She was reading a little book with a green cover. A brass ring of keys hung from her belt.

Milo had noticed the keys at once.

They were not ordinary keys. Each one had a tiny bell attached to it. When Guard Pella moved, the bells gave a gentle jingle.

Milo waited until she turned a page.

Jingle.

He waited until she bent her head.

Jingle-jingle.

Milo watched the keys sway. He counted the sounds in his mind. The bells were loud enough to hear, but soft enough to sound like raindrops on a roof.

Guard Pella glanced up.

Milo pressed himself against the wall and held his breath. A sunbeam warmed his cheek. Dust tickled his nose.

Guard Pella looked toward the fountain instead. Then she went back to her book.

Milo smiled again.

He had found the best moment.

One step.

Two steps.

Three - His left shoe slid across a fallen leaf.

Scritch.

Milo grabbed the edge of a tall vase. The vase wobbled. He grabbed it with both hands and pulled it steady.

The flowers inside bounced.

One yellow daisy leaned too far to the side.

Milo carefully straightened it.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Across the passage, Guard Pella turned another page.

Milo waited. The daisy stopped shaking. The vase stood still. He took a careful breath.

He was beginning to understand something. Sneaking was not only about moving quietly. It was about noticing what might make a sound before it made one.

He looked down at his shoes. One had a loose lace.

Milo tucked the lace inside his shoe.

He looked at his belt. The buckle was still crooked.

He wrapped a strip of cloth around it.

He looked at the bun in his pocket.

The bun was making a round, floury bump in his coat.

Milo took it out and placed it behind the flower vase.

“There,” he said. “You can wait.”

Now he felt ready.

Guard Pella leaned back on her stool. Her book made a soft flap as she turned another page. The bells at her belt jingled once.

Milo moved.

He crossed the last bit of passage and slipped behind a wide stone pillar. From there, he could see the treasure hall doors. One door stood open just a little. A thin line of golden light shone through the gap.

Milo’s fingers tingled.

He had made it to the entrance.

The treasure hall smelled like cedar boxes and polished metal. Sunlight poured through high windows and rested on rows of covered tables. Beyond the doorway, treasures gleamed under cloths. A silver crown peeked from one corner. A stack of coins shone like little moons.

At the center of the room sat the treasure bundle.

It was wrapped in deep purple cloth and tied with a gold cord. The knot rested on top like a small golden flower.

Milo saw a blue flash beneath the cloth.

The jewel.

His mouth opened in surprise.

It was even brighter than he remembered. It looked like a piece of the sky caught in glass. A thin stripe of light ran through its middle.

“That’s it,” Milo whispered.

Guard Pella shifted on her stool.

Jingle.

Milo ducked behind the pillar.

He waited for her footsteps, but they did not come. He peeked around the stone.

Guard Pella was still reading. One boot tapped the floor. Jingle. Tap. Jingle.

Milo studied the sound. The bells moved with her boot. If he stepped when the boot tapped, perhaps the floor would hide his footsteps.

Tap.

Milo stepped.

Jingle.

He took another step.

Tap.

He took another.

Jingle-jingle.

Milo paused. The last sound had been brighter and louder.

Guard Pella stopped tapping.

Milo’s hand rested on the doorframe. The wood was smooth beneath his fingers. A tiny splinter pricked him, but he did not pull away.

Guard Pella lowered her book.

“Was that a mouse?” she asked.

Milo’s stomach gave a flip.

A mouse would have been a good answer. But he was not a mouse, and his nose was poking around the side of the pillar.

He tucked it back.

Guard Pella looked toward the fountain again. Then she stood.

Her bells began to jingle.

Milo slipped through the open door.

Inside the hall, the air was cooler. The stone walls held the scent of cedar and dust. His soft footsteps made little puffs of sound against the rug.

He moved toward the purple bundle.

Behind him came a gentle rhythm.

Jingle.

Step.

Jingle.

Step.

Milo’s confidence melted like butter on warm toast.

He reached the bundle and crouched beside it. The purple cloth was soft and thick. Gold thread curled across its edge. Beneath the cloth, something round pressed against the fabric.

The jewel.

Milo held out his hand.

His fingers were almost touching the gold cord when a small bell rang behind him.

Not a faraway jingle.

Not a quiet sound.

A bright, clear ring.

Milo stopped.

Guard Pella’s voice came from the doorway.

“Hello? Is someone in there?”

Milo pulled his hand back.

The bundle gave a tiny rustle. He leaned closer and saw a little gold latch hidden beneath the cloth. The latch was shaped like a leaf. A narrow line ran from it to the knot holding the bundle closed.

Milo had not seen it before.

He should have studied it longer.

Instead, he whispered, “Just a little jewel.”

His fingers moved toward the blue shine.

Behind him, Guard Pella stepped into the hall.

Jingle.

Milo’s hand hovered above the treasure bundle. He could feel the cool air from the doorway on his neck. The jewel shone beneath the cloth, close enough to touch.

Guard Pella took one more step.

Jingle.

Milo turned his head.

Guard Pella stood beside the door, one hand on her book and the other resting near her belt of bells. Her face was not angry. It was puzzled.

“Milo Brambletip?” she said.

Milo blinked.

He had forgotten that the palace guards knew his name. He had delivered bread to the kitchen many times. He had carried baskets for the gardeners. He had even fallen asleep once in a laundry cart.

“Good evening,” Milo said.

Guard Pella looked at him, then at the treasure bundle, then back at him.

“What are you doing beside King Dorian’s treasure?”

Milo looked down at his hand. It was still hovering over the purple cloth.

“I was,” he began, “checking if it was safe.”

“Safe from what?”

Milo glanced toward the open door. His bun sat behind the flower vase in the passage. His loose lace was tucked into his shoe. His belt buckle was wrapped in cloth. Every part of his careful plan seemed to be waiting outside, while he sat beside the treasure bundle with his hand in the air.

“From me,” he admitted.

Guard Pella’s eyebrows rose.

Milo lowered his hand. “I wanted to steal the jewel.”

The words sounded much smaller when he said them aloud.

Guard Pella did not shout. She did not grab him. She simply walked closer, and her bells gave a soft, steady jingle.

“Thank you for telling the truth,” she said. “But touching the king’s treasure is not allowed.”

“I know,” Milo said. “I was trying to be very quiet.”

“You were quiet for a little while.”

Milo’s cheeks warmed.

“Then my keys helped me find you,” Guard Pella added.

Milo looked at the brass bells. “Your keys?”

“They jingle whenever I walk. They are useful for finding lost things.”

Milo glanced at the treasure bundle. “Could they find the jewel too?”

Guard Pella looked down at the purple cloth. “The jewel is already where it belongs.”

Milo felt disappointed. He had reached the bundle. He had seen the blue flash. Yet the jewel was still out of reach, and now Guard Pella knew exactly where he was.

He sat back on his heels.

“I thought being a thief meant being clever,” he said.

“Clever people notice when a plan is going wrong,” said Guard Pella. “Then they choose a better plan.”

Milo looked at the hidden latch. He had not noticed it until it was almost too late. The gold leaf rested under his fingers, ready to spring.

A warm smell drifted in from the passage.

His cinnamon bun.

Milo remembered the bun behind the vase and the daisy leaning to one side. He remembered the loose lace and the noisy buckle. His plan had not been quiet at all. It had only been lucky.

“I should put the bun back in my pocket,” he said.

“That would be a good start,” said Guard Pella.

Milo stood carefully. He kept his hands away from the treasure bundle. Then he walked toward the door beside Guard Pella.

Jingle.

He stopped.

Guard Pella took another step.

Jingle.

Milo smiled a little. He had been noticed, but he was not in trouble yet. The hall was still warm and bright. The treasure was still safe. The bun was still waiting.

At the doorway, Milo turned once more toward the purple bundle. The jewel shone under the cloth, blue and bright.

He had reached it.

He had not stolen it.

And now he knew exactly where it was.

Outside, Guard Pella handed him the bun. Milo tucked it into his pocket and straightened the daisy in the vase.

“Thank you,” he said.

Guard Pella’s bells gave a gentle jingle as she returned to her stool. “Next time, Milo, come through the front door.”

Milo nodded. “Next time I will knock.”

He walked back through the sunny passage, listening to the fountain and the soft sound of Guard Pella’s keys behind him. The treasure hall doors closed with a quiet click, and the blue jewel rested safely inside its bundle.

Milo’s first attempt had failed, but he had learned that a quiet step was not enough; a good plan must also be honest and careful.

End of chapter one. 14 more chapters in the full book.