In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1) by Steve M. Shoemake

indelicately from one to another through the means of our profession.  It has happened before.  But before you try and take advantage of my fondness for good wine, you should know that there is a benefactor already lined up for your services in the field who will pay you much more than my humble take.  But first you must pass your third and final test:  The Selectivity Test.”
     
     
    ~Trevor~
     
    Trevor shook his head, wishing he had more food, but disciplined himself.  He quietly pulled a few leaves off a nearby branch and examined them.  Edible.  Slowly he gathered a handful, taking his time, enjoying the process of reaching without moving, making virtually no noise as he carefully tore leaf after leaf off nearby branches.  Fresh, green, and healthy leaves.  Slightly fragrant, not quite as sharp as evergreens, but a bit maple-y smelling.  A delicate leaf salad.
    Nibbling quietly, he sighed.  His little bakery revolt wasn’t even part of his Test.  He was on the third and final portion of his quest to become a Master Thief.  It was a significant designation in the Guild.  Many tried; most failed.  Anyone can take something that doesn’t belong to them; few are qualified to be paid to take what doesn’t belong to them, be it an object, a person, or a secret.  A Master Thief earned his living not by what they stole; they lived well on what they were paid by others to steal.
    Which brought Trevor back to the Test his Master had devised for him.  There were always three parts:  The Test of Concealment, the Test of Technique, and the final Test of Thievery.  The Test of Concealment yielded Silver; the Test of Technique yielded gold.  The Test of Thievery yielded you the designation of Master, and with it, contracts.  There was no shortage of demand for a Master Thief’s talents in this Dark World.
    Up in the tree, patiently waiting, Trevor had time to recall the Tests his Master had set before him that led him to this point.  It passed the time.
     
    ***
     
    Thinking back on his Test of Concealment, Trevor found it to be child’s play.  So many would-be thieves never took seriously the art of disguise.  I had no choice he thought ruefully.  His short stature, mismatched eyes, flaming red hair—if he wanted to go unnoticed, he would need to perfect his concealment techniques.  Make up, wigs, false features, and a keen eye for clothing were all basic necessities.  However, Trevor had a secret even his Master knew nothing about.  A couple years ago, he had stolen enough gold to afford his prize possession:  a pair of shoes.  Not just any cobbler’s workmanship; these were special.  He had a mage of some modest talent with illusion create a spell on these shoes that would make whomever wore them appear taller.  A short man draws attention, pity even.  A really tall man also draws attention, admiration even.  Trevor wanted neither.  His job was best performed when there was nothing remarkable about him whatsoever.  And when he donned these shoes, he appeared six or seven inches taller, a very uninteresting height.  Coupled with his mastery of camouflage, and his Concealment Test was a breeze.
    It was simple, really.  A panel of seven Master Thieves were gathered in a tavern.  They all knew Trevor; many had instructed him.  The challenge was to rob each thief of a silver piece that they carried loosely in a pouch.  Picking their pocket wasn’t the primary challenge; if you couldn’t do that, you would never have progressed past the most basic level in a life of thievery, and the Guild would eventually expel you.  No, Master Thieves were well beyond that.  The challenge was that it was in Shoal, in a large tavern, filled with people who knew you (though most had no idea that you were a thief, of course).  But the Masters in the Guild did.  And if you were recognized, they would call you out.  Loudly and openly.  It would be public, and your failure would result in imprisonment,