Pyrotechnics

The morning called to Pyro. He smiled and opened his eyes.
He looked up at the sky and counted the birds he saw. There were fourteen. Fourteen birds for fourteen years. He knew today was the day he would make a name for himself . . . well, he had a new name now, but he would perhaps make it known to the whole city. Pyro, once William, the boy with fire in his eyes, would show the whole place just how great his bloodline was. He would kill the greatest king the city had ever had.
He crept down the empty early morning alleys of the sleeping city called Road’s End. He slid down the side of one of the huge drainage ditches of the city carrying last night’s rainwater and trash alongside him as he walked down the trench. In the side of the trench there was a crack almost covered with clinging gray-green vines and moss.
Pyro pushed the vines aside and squeezed through a tight passageway into a wider tunnel with luminescent fungi growing in patches on the walls. The blue glow on his orange eyes made him look surreal creeping through the tunnel.
He emerged onto a thin strip of shore on the edge of a subterranean lake. The dark water shushed quietly on the silver sands. He walked along the shore leaving new footprints on the recently washed shore.
He paced around the curve of the dark beach, following the dark wall to a wider part of the shore. There was a pool of sunlight on the widest part and in the center, there was a ragged tent. Pyro waited outside it quietly.
“Who’s there?” came a voice from inside.
“Pyro. I need to speak with the thief called Rewin.” The boy cocked his head at the tent, his red hair falling over one eye.
The tent flap opened and a slim figure stepped out. He wore a coat that fell to his ankles and silver hair almost as long. His too flexible fingers hung at his side, strangely empty. He always had some small trinket or strange bauble that he played with constantly.
“You want to make your name as I have, huh? Come to learn the ways of the thief like so many others?” he asked the boy.
“No.” Pyro said. “I need you to get me some stuff.”
“A job?” the man’s thin lips spread in a smile that was too wide. “What will you pay me with, kid?”
“This.” Pyro pulled a small crystal ball from his pocket.
Rewin looked at the crystal reverently. “Where did you get this?”
“I found it.” Pyro pulled his hand back from the man’s stare. “And if you give me what I want you can have it.”
“What do you want?” Rewin looked up at him.
“I want explosives.” Pyro looked him in the eyes. “Enough to blow up the palace.”
"The palace?” Rewin’s face grew wary. “I can’t let you blow up the palace. King Tile―” Pyro put the ball back in his pocket and turned to go. “Wait!” Rewin cried. “Okay, okay, give me until tonight.”
“I want them by sundown.” Pyro said quietly.
“You remind me a little of him,” Rewin said. “Perhaps it is the way your mouth is set. The perfect shadow of that rebellious sneer he always wore.”
“Who?” Pyro pulled the crystal from his pocket. “Him?”
“My friend, my partner in crime, my mentor.” Rewin tugged on a lock of hair absentmindedly, his strange fingers twining around it like snakes. He held out a gray hand for the orb. “I want that first. I have to be sure it was his.”
“It is.” Pyro took a step back.
“If I wanted to, I could make you give it to me.” Rewin glared at the boy from behind his curtain of stray hair. “You know what blood runs in my veins. And I can call on the powers of those like me if I need to.”
Pyro held out the globe reluctantly. Rewin’s fingers snaked out and curled around the object. He held it close to his face staring into its depths. His eyes widened with surprise. “It is his,” he breathed.
“Yes. I want my explosives,” prompted the boy.
“As you said.” Rewin turned back to his tent, but didn’t go inside. His sharp nose and curved pointed ears were outlined with light. “I’ll meet you with the things tonight at my namesake. You know where.”
Pyro nodded and made his way back up the beach.
Rewin’s slender frame slid between the tent flaps and he sat where his comrade once sat, closing his eyes and remembering the last day they were together.

***

Pyro waited behind the ruined statue of the Mages. They had been great heroes of this city, but this place had been hit in the War of the Forest by one of the flame bombs and had never been restored. The whole city had always been a patchwork of magic and science, old and knew, wood and metal, but now it looked even stranger. The patches were there to replace what was burnt or blown to smithereens.
Rewin stepped around the statue and held a small box toward Pyro. “Here you are,” he said.
Pyro looked at it dubiously. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Rewin smiled. “Be careful. It’s delicate, but, as asked, it has power.”
“Really?” Pyro looked at the box with wonder.
“Yes, but Pyro, I think that trying to kill King Tile isn’t a good idea―”
“What do you know?” Pyro looked up at the thief. “You were the greatest in your day, but now you’re all washed up and it’s my turn. Only I’m not going to be a petty thief like you. I’m going to make a mark on this city, one that’s not easily erased by time or money. I’m going to kill King Tile for what he did to my father and grandfather.”
“Your father?” Rewin looked surprised.
“Yes. My father was the man who was supposed to be king. My father, Prince Horatio, was run out of this city by Tile and his cronies and driven into the forest in poverty and fear. Now I’ve come to get the ultimate revenge.” Pyro’s eyes lit up like flames as he spoke of his vengeance. “I will walk right up to him and tell him who I am right before I blow him and his precious palace to bits!”
Rewin let a smile spread across his face. “Tile and his cronies drove your noble father out of his rightful place, eh? What if I told you I was one of those cronies?”
“What?” Pyro stared up at him surprised.
“I worked with Tile to get rid of your father. I wondered when I'd hear about him again. I knew that was too easy.”
“Y-you?” Pyro stuttered. “You helped him!”
Rewin nodded. “And I think I’ll do it again.” He rushed Pyro and slammed his slender shoulder into the box. A loud crack sounded from inside. “I can’t let you destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to this city!”
“So you’ll destroy yourself?” Pyro snarled.
“It’s a better death than most!” Rewin cried as a fiery explosion bloomed from the box engulfing the pair.

What do you think? It's sort of a continuation of some of my other stories, but can you get it without knowing about that? Was it any good? Critique please.

---Higher place. Elevator, baby, elevator, baby, elevator, baby, elevator, baby. Levitate me!