It was raining and there wasn’t anything to be done. Keenin was stuck inside. Alaban sat at the table crushing plants while Keenin sat in front of the fire. He had been told that he didn’t need to do anything and Alaban had already taken charge of his usual job so Keenin figured he could at least keep the fire going.

The only reason he could think of to leave the house was to bring in more wood, but there was enough dry wood stacked inside that there wasn’t a need. With his prospects for getting out to quickly pay the fee ruined already, all he had to do was think of where this money would come from. It wasn’t a motivating position.

As he gloomily watched the fire, Keenin wondered if he could urge it to burn faster and he could almost see the flames jumping higher at the thought, but the logs disintegrated as slowly as always. He took the fire poker off its hook and prodded at the ashes in a continued attempt to stave off his boredom.

“Did those thieves say anything to you yesterday?” Alaban asked.

Keenin stopped harassing the flames and slid the poker out of the ash to hang back on the hook.

“I didn’t see them,” Keenin replied.

He looked over at the wood pile to select the next piece. Keenin wasn’t always good at lying. He hoped that if he made himself look preoccupied he would be left alone. Alaban didn’t ask further. He started coughing. Keenin looked over as the man rose from his chair and stood holding a hand against his chest. He continued coughing so hard that Keenin started to worry, but he couldn’t think of what to do.

“The shelf,” Alaban wheezed out before launching into another fit.

Keenin went over immediately.

“Lowest. Behind the jars. Give me the bottle.”

Keenin pushed aside the jars on the lower shelf to expose a small bottle full of a yellow substance. He brought this over to Alaban who took out the stopper and drank down the liquid. His coughing eased up and stopped with a sign. Alaban breathed steadily once more.

“Are you going to be alright?” Keenin asked.

“Sometimes the pollen gets into my chest,” Alaban explained.

He sat back down and started cleaning up the mess of discarded plants and powder.

“I think I’ve done enough today. And Keenin, you know you shouldn’t lie to me.”

“What?” Keenin said.

“About those thieves. You’re not the only one who saw them. Since you came back in once piece I assume they wanted something.”

“Even if they did say something it’s none of your business,” Keenin told him.

The old guy should have stayed out of it.

“When you’re in my house it is my business and you’re in my care," Alaban stressed, "Do you think that I want my house robbed or you killed while I’m off selling potions?”

Keenin wanted to say that it was Alaban’s fault for making him stay, but Keenin was the one who had begged to replace the stolen goods.

“They wanted money,” Keenin confessed.

“How much?” Alaban asked.

“What does it matter?" Keenin said frustrated.

He arranged the jars back on the shelf.

“I think I would prefer to give it than have it stolen,” Alaban returned, as Keenin paced to the fire to brandish the poker against the flames.

“Then give them that dumb map.”

He caught the poker between the logs as he jabbed and tried to pull lose. Alaban came up behind him and grabbed hold of the poker before Keenin could hurt himself.

“Listen boy! A few coins to cut old ties is a good deal. Most people don’t get so lucky. And you’re so-called leader of thieves is the only one keeping you trapped. He is squandering your goodwill and pushing you against each other!”

Keenin was at a loss for words. His heart pounded wildly from the violent outburst. He had never had anyone lay it out that way, but it was true. The reason nobody left thieving was because of Keln. Alaban carefully replaced the poker into the stand.

“And,” Alaban added, “Needing you to work here isn’t a lie.”

Keenin felt embarrassed. What had he done to earn such trust and how could he stay when he caused such trouble?

“Then why don’t you hire someone else?” Keenin said.

“I don't need another," Alaban explained, "I have an honest worker right here and a greedy potion mixer is dangerous. They make mistakes.”

“I’m a thief,” Keenin said.

“Then seal my money. Go back to your friends and think yourself fortunate for the scraps life offers,” Alaban said. “But if you would rather be my apprentice you could always ask. Do you still feel like being a thief?”

“You’re strange,” Keenin said looking into the flames.

People didn’t help others like Alaban did.

“But nobody ever said they would help, so I want to try” Keenin said.

The thieves likely already hated him. Alaban picked up a log from the stack Keenin had made beside the hearth and handed it to him.

“Keep the house warm and I’ll be back soon.” 

Leaving Keenin with the fire, Alaban moved to pick up his leather jacket from a hook beside the door.

“Wait. Where are you going?” Keenin asked.

It was raining and miserable outside.

“To pay back your friends.”

                                                               *

Keenin wished that he had not followed Alaban outside. Not only was he soaked from head to toe, but he had to walk down the muddy streets in his bare feet and it was going to get worse. They were approaching the grassy expanse of the cemetery where the ground would squish and where he would practically be stepping on corpses. If only he wasn’t so superstitious and the ground wasn’t so soft. Alaban seemed to have no such problem with graveyards and rain, but his shoes and jacket spared him from the worst.

“I told you not to come. Now you might get sick,” Alaban told him.

“How can this weather not bother you?” Keenin asked.

“I’ve walked through mountains in the rain,” Alaban said. “Now that is scary. The rocks get slippery and you only have a thin ledge between you and the drop. If that’s not bad enough you also get to see when someone messes up and takes the fall.”

“Alright. Alright. Enough with the dead people,” Keenin said watching his feet squish into the earth.

“Why are you so upset? This is the oldest section of the yard. The people down there are dirt.”

“That doesn’t help,” Keenin said trying not to imagine dirt as corpse manure.

“I thought you lived here?”

“I slept between the houses or in the trees. I only came back here when I had to.”

“Which one of the crypts are they in?” Alaban asked him as they got closer.

Keenin had been trying not to look up because it would mean seeing the grave markers and knowing that he had to step across all those graves, but for Alaban’s sake he did look. In this part of the graveyard there were three old family crypts. These houses for the dead served well as houses for the living if you could deal with living side by side with boxes of old bones.

“The one on the right,” Keenin said pointing, “They aren’t going to like us showing up like this.”

“That’s why I told you to stay at the house,” Alaban said moving up to the heavy wooden door of the crypt and giving it a knock, “If they’re smart they’ll only threaten a guy as big as me, but they might come after you.”

“I’ll stay back here,” Keenin said waiting beside a tombstone where he knew no corpse would be buried underneath.

He occupied himself by trying to spot the overgrown pathway through the yard. If he followed the path there would be no graves to step on. The door to the crypt opened. Keln stood in the entrance.

“Did Keenin tell you where we were?” he asked.

“Everybody knows where you live,” Alaban said. We’ve been letting a lot of things slide because we can’t help every orphan, but today I came to settle the matter of payment for my apprentice.”

Keln looked to Keenin who remained further back.

“He’s supposed to pay it,” Keln argued.

“What’s the charge if he doesn’t?”

“Fifty gold pieces,” Keln told Alaban.

Keenin met Keln’s eyes across the yard. How could he ask for that much? It was murder. How was Alaban to support himself with no money left?

Keln turned his attention back to Alaban.

“You could always leave your apprentice behind.”

“Not with you,” Alaban said holding out a very full looking coin bag without counting what was inside.

Keln eyed the bag before moving from the shelter of the crypt and taking it for himself. Now as drenched as the rest of them Keln loosened the wet drawstring to peer inside before raising his head.

“Don’t ever come back here. The both of you,” Keln said.

What? Keenin thought. Were there really fifty gold coins in the bag?

“Come on,” Alaban said, walking past him to the town.

Keenin followed hurriedly and forgot about where he was stepping.

“Hey,” Keenin called to him. “How much was that?”

“More than enough,” Alaban said. 

“But that…” Keln didn’t deserve that. “You could have him arrested.”

Alaban paused and turned to put a hand on Keenin’s shoulder.

“Keenin, calm down,” Alaban told him. “Your friends will be better off now, whether that guy runs off or shares a bit of that money he is no longer a threat. I only need an honest apprentice and you should know that you’re worth much more than that. One day you are going to help a lot of people.”

Keenin’s skin felt cold as he stood in the rain, but inside he felt a warmth of pride.

“Alaban...I’ll pay you back one day,” Keenin told him.