The rat scampered through the series of tunnels she had burrowed beneath the ground, next to the walls of the bank’s vault, dragging along an empty hessian sack. After dislodging the sack from a stone sticking out of the dirt for the umpteenth time, she reached the end of the tunnel and emerged in the vault.

  Gold, silver, and bronze coins sat in high, ordered piles, string and leather ties holding them to the ground, or kept in heavy-duty locked boxes. Stacks of shimmering bullions sat beside priceless gems. Knirey glanced around, saw that no one was in the room, and began to transform from rat into human. The same beautiful, wealthy woman she had become in the forest two nights ago. Her personal favourite transformation. Her beauty and elegance was somewhat offset by the fact she was standing naked in a bank vault holding a sack, but Knirey couldn’t bring herself to care for those human taboos such as nudity and bank robbery.

  She grabbed handfuls of coins, lockboxes of gold, bullions, gemstones, and loaded them into the sack until she could hardly lift it anymore. Dragging her bounty across the polished wood floor, she looked down at the little mousehole she had made for herself and sighed.

  No matter what form she took, there was no way she could get the sack through that tiny hole. She paced about the room, fingers pressed against her temples, until she halted in her tracks, face contorting into a mad smile.

  Knirey bit down on the top of the sack with her teeth, fell down onto all fours, and transformed into a bear.

  She barged through the door, scattering a pair of bewildered-looking guards as they fumbled with their spears and tried to sound an alarm to the rest of the bank. She darted up the stairs, past stunned clerks and amazed clients, and soon she was in the building’s main chamber. A high ceiling loomed above her, a marble floor beneath her, and she did not stop running.

  Every guard in the building chased after her, and most of them followed her outside. She sprinted through the streets, crashing through market stalls and halting horses in their tracks. The number of people on her trail increased, as city guards and civilians who thought they could help chased her. A few spears were thrown her way, but managed to weave through them, unscathed.

  Nearby, a small group of labourers were constructing the beginning of a brick wall around some nobleman’s manor house. She sped towards it, and knocked it down as she ran into an alley beside it, the rubble blocking off the entrance.

  Having slowed down her pursuers, she turned a corner beside an inn, smashed open a window, and lobbed the sack of gold into it, before transforming into a squirrel and scurrying up into it. Once inside, she shifted back into human form and blocked off the window with a mostly-empty wardrobe, and placed the sack inside of it before closing the doors.

  ‘Who are you?’ a voice behind her shouted. She turned to see a woman dressed in commoner’s garb standing in utter shock.

  ‘Don’t say anything,’ Knirey replied, ‘you haven’t seen anything.’

  A knock at the door. Knirey ushered the woman away into a side room, took a towel from a railing and wrapped it around herself. She opened the door to find a city guard standing there in his uniform and armour, looking exhausted.

  ‘Excuse me, Miss,’ he began, clearly having not taken the time to catch his breath, ‘you wouldn’t happen to have seen a bear anywhere around these parts?’

  ‘A bear?’ Knirey echoed, feigned surprise in her voice.

  ‘Yes, well, you’ll never believe it, but the Bank of Dusolt’s been robbed by a bear, you see, and he’s causing havoc on the streets. Last we saw, it was running just past this inn. We’re checking all of the rooms, you see, to see if anyone’s seen it from their windows.’

  ‘I haven’t seen a thing. I would hate to imagine a bear running around, destroying our streets. Please, catch it soon.’

  ‘We will, Miss, I can assure you of that.’ He paused, squinting. ‘Hang on a second. Are you Margelka Faress?’

  Knirey paused. She had to start remembering the names of the people she turned into. ‘Why, yes, I am,’ she replied.

  ‘It’s good to see you. Are you still seeing that fellow from the Endlands?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I am.’

  ‘It’s brave, that. I’ve nothing against it, but there are folks who do.’

  ‘Well, I thank you for your open mind.’

  ‘Of course. I once loved a Jorat girl who…you know what? We can catch up later. I’ve a bear to catch.’

  ‘I wish you well,’ Knirey said, and watched as the guard went down the hall, knocking at each of the rooms, and once he was finished he headed down the stairs.

  With a sigh of relief, the shapeshifter heaved up the sack of gold and turned to the woman residing in the room. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, ‘but thanks for staying quiet.’

  As she moved down the corridor, she transformed into the merchant woman, Discrey Shutallic, and entered the room she had purchased for herself.

  A heavy chest lay in the corner of the room, which Knirey opened and threw the sack into, before taking a small handful of gold in a little box. Only coins would be needed at this stage, but she had more enticing forms of wealth in the chest should she require it later down the line. From the wardrobe, she took the dress she had stolen from the real Discrey, and put it on. Still beautiful, despite how tattered and filthy it had become.

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  Exiting the room, she approached the innkeeper and placed a small handful of golden coins on his desk. ‘For keeping the secret,’ she said, and walked out of the door, only getting one small glance at his bewildered face.

  Marching forward, box of money in hand, she made her way to the bustling market beside the guildhall, and looked for any familiar faces from the meeting the previous morning. A clothier chanted, clapping his hands above his head to drum up attention, small glasses perched on his nose, and she soon approached.

  ‘Ah, Miss Shutallic,’ the merchant said, ‘what a pleasure it is to see you. I admire your confidence putting your name down for chairman. I could never do something like that myself.’

  ‘You flatter me,’ she replied.

  ‘How can I help you, dear?’

  ‘As you can see, my dress has fallen to ruin. Could you perhaps fix it for me?’

  ‘Of course I can, but…aren’t you a dressmaker by trade? Could you not do it yourself?’

  ‘Well, my husband has fallen ill, and, in truth, he did most of the work on that front. Additionally, someone ransacked our home and stole all my clothes but this dress, and I knew of your shining reputation and thought I’d purchase some from you as well. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes.’

  The man narrowed his eyes. ‘Something seems suspicious about this.’

  ‘I can assure you, there is nothing of the sort. All I request is that you fix my dress and hand me another to wear in the meantime. That is surely not too much to ask.’

  ‘It isn’t, but I’m still cautious.’

  Knirey opened the box of gold, the shine of it glimmering onto her, and placed a large handful of coins on the table between them. ‘Would this change things?’ she asked.

  The man scrambled and pushed the coins towards himself, as though these were his winnings from a bet he did not expect to win, grinning like an idiot. He cleared his throat. ‘Of course, Miss Shutallic. I shan’t be long.’

  ‘Can I rely on your vote at the guild meeting later today?’ she asked.

  ‘Certainly.’

  After getting her rather dull-by-comparison dress and leaving her new prized possession with the clothier, she repeated the process with a series of other merchants from the guild. A few more clothiers and tailors to get suitable undergarments, a cobbler for a pair of heeled shoes, and a jeweller for a fine silver necklace and set of rings.

  By the time the merchants began packing up their stalls and heading to the guildhall, she was dressed far more like a princess than a tailor, but it didn’t bother her.

  Sitting at the table in roughly the same position as before, the room was just as full as the previous day. She noted all of the men she had bribed into voting for her sitting about the table, all trying to avoid eye contact with her. Across from her sat the same pair that did last time: the short, round man with the beard and silly cap, and the tall, handsome man with the fashionable jacket. Chairman Brid Triless sat at the head of the table, and opened his mouth to speak.

  ‘I welcome you all to another meeting of the Merchants’ Guild, and the first day of voting for my replacement as chairman. Let us not waste time with any more politeness, and allow us to get immediately into the voting.’ He began to pass slips of paper across the table. ‘To remind you, you must each put the name of whichever candidate who has put himself - or herself - forward that you think would be the best fit for chairman. You may only put one name, any votes for more than one candidate will not count for any. You may only put the name of one who placed a bid yesterday, any votes for non-running candidates will not count. You may not write your own name, and I will have to trust you on that as voting is anonymous. Once you have written the name of the candidate you desire, fold your paper and place it in this box beside me. Once all votes are in, I will read them out. The candidate with the fewest votes will be eliminated from contention, and in the event of a tie both candidates will be eliminated. The second round of voting will proceed tomorrow. Unless there are any questions, you may start now.’

  Knirey glanced around the room, quill in hand, looking to ensure that every man who said he would write her name - or, rather, Discrey’s name - truly did. She racked her brain for names she remembered, and only one came to mind. Sellis Porem, which she believed belonged to the short bearded man sitting opposite her. She scratched his name down, then sauntered to the front of the room, and placed her slip in the slitted box beside Triless.

  After a few minutes of voting, Triless opened the box and began to read out the votes, tallying them up as he did.

  ‘Our first vote,’ he said, taking out the first slip of paper, ‘is for…me. Brid Triless.’ He sighed. ‘Hilarious. As I am not running, this vote will not count.’

  He took out the next slip of paper. ‘Our first real vote is for…Jelsor Approm.’

  Knirey watched the handsome man next to Sellis smile at this fact. That was Jelsor, she thought, good to know.

  ‘Next vote is for…Anxen Worrimol.’

  The elderly merchant who took umbrage with a woman being chairman nodded knowingly across the table.

  Triless read out a few more votes, most for either Approm or Worrimol, though a few other names made recurring appearances. She had begun to zone out when she heard him say, ‘Discrey Shutallic.’

  Knirey tried to keep her composure, but couldn’t hide the fact that she shot up in her seat like a startled rabbit.

  He continued to read the votes in his slow, droning voice, and by the end Knirey counted five total votes for Discrey. Jelsor Approm and Anxen Worrimol had over twenty votes each, a few notable others had between five and twenty. It seemed she was the only person to vote for Sellis Porem, who was one of the two candidates to receive only one singular vote, the other being a young cartographer she suspected someone felt pity for.

  ‘With thirty of you placing bids for chairman,’ Triless announced once the votes were read, ‘twenty of you received not a single vote and, thus, will be eliminated from contention. The next round of voting continues tomorrow between the ten that remain. This meeting is adjourned.’

  As merchants filed out of the guildhall, discussing the election and who they had each voted for or would vote for in the future, Knirey spotted Sellis and Jelsor talking, the taller man relaxedly leaning against a wall, and the smaller one clearly trying to hide the fact that he was shaking.

  She thought about walking over to them and striking up a conversation, but couldn’t think of anything advantageous to say. Still, it fascinated her to see how much these people cared. Humans were silly in that way, she thought. Born with no inherent goals, so they set their own ambitions without meaning and cared far too much for them.

  With a laugh to herself, she left the guildhall. She would never find herself caring about something that much, she told herself. It was impossible.