Thief of Time

does the, er, does, uh, does the…”
    “It’s generally done by a senior sweeper, your acolytility.”
    “Oh? And, er, by some happy chance, er, do you happen to be—”
    Lu-Tze bobbed a bow.
    “Oh, yes, sir.”
    To the chief acolyte, still floundering in the flood of the turning tide, this was as welcome as the imminent prospect of dry land. He beamed maniacally.
    “I wonder, I wonder, I wonder then if you would be so kind, er, then, er, to—”
    “Happy to, sir.” Lu-Tze swung around. “Right now, sir?”
    “Oh, please, yes!”
    “Right you are. Step forward, Lobsang Ludd!”
    “Yes, Sweeper!”
    Lu-Tze held out the worn robe and the elderly broom. “Broom! Robe! Do not lose them, we are not made of money!” he announced.
    “I thank you for them,” said Lobsang. “I am honored.”
    Lobsang bowed, Lu-Tze bowed. With their heads close together and at the same height, Lu-Tze hissed: “Very surprising.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Nicely mythic, the whole thing, definitely one for the scrolls, but bordering on smug. Do not try it again.”
    “Right.”
    They both stood up. “And…er…what happens now?” said the chief acolyte. He was a broken man, and he knew it. Nothing was going to be the same after this.
    “Nothing, really,” said Lu-Tze. “Sweepers get on with sweeping. You take that side, lad, and I’ll take this.”
    “But he is Time!” said the chief acolyte. “The son of Wen! There is so much we have to ask!”
    “There is so much I will not tell,” said Lobsang, smiling. The abbot leaned forward and dribbled in the chief acolyte’s ear.
    The chief acolyte gave up.
    “Of course, it is not up to us to question you,” he said, backing away.
    “No,” said Lobsang. “It is not. I suggest you all get on with your very important work, because this plaza is going to need all my attention.”
    There were frantic hand signals among the senior monks and, gradually, reluctantly, the monastery staff moved away.
    “They’ll be watching us from every place they can hide,” mumbled Lu-Tze when the sweepers were alone.
    “Oh, yes,” said Lobsang.
    “So…how are you, then?”
    “Very well. And my mother is happy, and she will retire with my father.”
    “What? A cottage in the country, that sort of thing?”
    “Not quite. Similar, though.”
    There was no sound for a while but the brushing of two brooms.
    Then Lobsang said: “I’m aware, Lu-Tze, that it is usual for an apprentice to give a small gift or token to his master when he finishes his apprenticeship…”
    “Possibly,” said Lu-Tze, straightening up, “but I don’t need anything. I’ve got my mat, my bowl, and my Way.”
    “Every man has something he desires,” said Lobsang.
    “Hah! Got you there then, wonder boy. I’m eight hundred years old. I’ve run through all my desires long ago.”
    “Oh dear. That is a shame. I hoped I could find something .” Now Lobsang straightened up and swung his broom onto his shoulder.
    “In any case, I must leave,” he said. “There is so much still to do.”
    “I’m sure there is,” said Lu-Tze. “I’m sure there is. There’s the whole stretch under the trees, for one thing. And while we’re on the subject, wonder boy, did you let that witch have her broomstick back?”
    Lobsang nodded. “Let us just say…I put things back. It’s a lot newer than it was, too.”
    “Hah!” said Lu-Tze, sweeping up a few more petals. “Just like that. Just like that. So easily does a thief of time repay his debts!”
    Lobsang must have caught the rebuke in the tone. He stared down at his feet.
    “Well…perhaps not all of them, I admit,” he said.
    “Oh?” said Lu-Tze, still apparently fascinated by the end of his own broom.
    “But when you have to save the world you cannot think of one person, you see, because one person is a part of that world,” Lobsang went on.
    “Really?” said the sweeper. “You think so? You’ve been talking to some very strange people, my lad.”
    “But now I have time,” said Lobsang earnestly. “And I hope she’ll understand.”
    “It’s amazing what a lady will understand, if you find the right way of putting it,” said Lu-Tze. “Best of luck, lad. You didn’t do so bad, on the whole. And is it not written, ‘It’s never too late’?”
    Lobsang smiled at him, and vanished.
    Lu-Tze went back to sweeping. After a while, he grinned at a memory. An apprentice gives a gift to the master, eh? As if Lu-Tze could want anything that Time