The Ferret's Amulet

The ferret girl scampered down the cobblestone street, scurrying past some older beasts on a corner who growled in annoyance at the kit and her mischievous grin. Their annoyance would turn to anger later when they discovered their missing baubles, but by then she was long gone.

Stealing came easy to the ferret, who was not even in her teenage years yet. She had picked the skill up easily, having lived among street thieves her entire young life. She saw the subtle ways they moved their paws and for her it came naturally.

Now she found there was no bauble she wouldn’t be denied. No more would she lie awake at night listening to her stomach growl. True, she found many beasts objected to her taking their things. They would chase her and curse at her. Other older beasts would drone on and on to her about morality or something that she couldn’t quite wrap her head around.

But there were others that encouraged her. They wanted things and she could get them for them, but only if they offered Farah something she valued in return. She knew not who her parents were, or what had become of them, for as long as she could remember she was on her own, aside from a few orphanages that offered shelter, but... far too many rules.

All she really knew was her name: Farah.

She was well into her teen years, bordering on adulthood, and knew every inch of the city. Her name was starting to be whispered among the shadows of the city. Farah. A ferret thief of great renown. Becoming wiser, but still possessing a kit’s impulsiveness.

Farah perched on the low wall overlooking the merchant square, tail flicking excitedly as she counted her haul: Rings, buttons, a purse of faded green cloth, two candlesticks - one clearly older than the other - and a handful of copper coins. A good morning’s work by any measure.

But none of it mattered. None were the thing she wanted most - The item she yearned for.

She had spotted it only once, more by accident than intent, through the open doorway of a traveling jeweler’s wagon: a pendant on a silver chain laid on a plush red velvet pillow under glass.

A pure white diamond-like crystal. It didn’t glitter like a gem; it burned from an inner fire - warm and soft and alive. She had never owned anything beautiful. Never even wanted to before now. But the moment she saw it, something in her chest tightened like a fist.

She wanted it.

She needed it.

She told herself it was because of how valuable it must be. She told herself she could trade it for food for a week, or for a thick winter cloak, or even for a proper dagger instead of the rusted thing she kept tucked in her belt. But when she lay awake that night beneath the awning of an abandoned stall, her mind conjured the pendant over and over again. Not as a prize, but as a treasure that belonged to her alone. Like the baubles the wealthy beasts wore.

The jeweler was a tall lynx with sharp whiskers and sharper eyes, dressed in a traveling coat embroidered with tiny golden knots. Farah studied him for hours, watching from behind crates and barrels, waiting for a distraction. An opening.

Anything.

He left his wagon often enough to haggle or argue with customers, but never far enough, never long enough, never blind enough.

Still, she tried.

She darted into the wagon the moment he turned his back, paws light, breath held, heartbeat thundering in her throat. Her claws touched the chain of the pendant warm, impossibly warm and then a large shadow swallowed the doorway.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the lynx said, voice low, calm, far too calm.

Farah froze. She’d been caught before, yes but never like this. Never so completely, so cleanly. She bolted, but the lynx moved like a striking hawk, catching her by the scruff before she even reached the door. His grip was firm but not cruel.

“You’re good,” he said thoughtfully. “Very good. But not good enough for this.”

He didn’t hit her, didn’t shout, didn’t summon the guards. He simply set her on the ground outside and returned to his wagon, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The humiliation burned worse than any punishment. Farah skittered away, breath sharp and furious, tail puffed with indignation.

She’d never failed like that. Never been dismissed like some pesky cub poking where she didn’t belong. But more than the embarrassment, something deeper ached something raw and confused.

She had touched the pendant.

She had felt its warmth.

She had felt, just for a heartbeat, as though she had found something meant for her: something she had been missing without knowing it. ...And now it was gone again.

That night, she didn’t sleep. She lay beneath her awning, staring at the stars, imagining the pendant glowing in the dark. Every breath felt incomplete without its weight against her palm.

The older thieves she sometimes worked for would have told her to forget it, to move on to the next prize. But Farah couldn’t. She had stolen food, coins, comforts... But this was the first thing she had ever desired.

And she would not let it go.

Not after tasting what it felt like to want something so badly her chest hurt.

Not after being denied.

She would try again, but the merchant was a traveling merchant and he was gone from his usual spot when Farah tried again. She scoured the whole city from the slums to the wealthy districts and everywhere in between. But she could not find it. Farah asked around, trying to find if others had bought the necklace - but to no avail.

Years passed, and Farah grew taller, her skills more refined. Not just her thieving skills, but how to read and write, the basics of math, and she learned how to fight; for the times when running and hiding weren’t options.

Despite her success growing Farah still yearned for the necklace, like a lover that had gone away.

Then one day when she least expected it, she saw a familiar wagon, its paint had faded with age, but she recognized it instantly. The ferret studied the shopkeep, spotting the familiar lynx whose muzzle had grown grey.

Farah had grown in age and skill - perhaps he had grown slower in his older age?

She would not let it slip through her fingers again. This time, she would have it. Pulling her cloak closer, Farah advanced as she watched the feline haggling with a pushy badger over the price of a broach.

Now was the chance, and she would not let it slip past her claws again.

With measured steps she made her way towards the wagon, watching the two beasts argue. Silently she crept into the interior and smirked as she saw the necklace, winking at her in the light like she was an old friend.

Farah looked over her shoulder and advanced, her paws hovered over the gem before they closed around it and felt the familiar warmth. Quickly she scampered out and past the lynx just as he turned his head, a look of bewilderment on his muzzle.

“Hey!” he shouted, but Farah was already sprinting away and slipping into the crowd. Her tail twitched in excitement she had finally found it! Slipping into an alleyway she pulled the silver chain over her head, the weight feeling familiar. As if it had always been hers.

“Yes!” Farah grinned her paws caressing the jewel.

“Hold it!” a voice called from the end of the alley, Farah turned to find a terrier dog in robes and the armband of the watch.

“Yes?” Farah asked coyly.

“Hand over the stolen property ferret, and I won’t use the hurting magic on you.”

Farah flattened her ears.

“Ugh, not only are you a watchman, you’re a wizard too. What, you failed magic school?”

The terrier growled. “Hear now! I’ve had about enough of you thief, you asked for this!”

The wizard shouted some form of incantation as he gestured at Farah, a beam of arcane energy arcing towards her, there was nowhere to run, too close to dodge. The beam stuck the ferret and she... Felt nothing.

Dog and ferret both blinked in disbelief. Then Farah seized her opportunity, striking the terrier in the muzzle with a clenched paw before she darted away. The necklace... it had shielded her from the magic somehow.

Farah looked at the necklace and grinned. “My dear, I think this will be the start of something beautiful!”