He went to put the basket of bream and shrimp onto the table alongside Luniki’s crate, but he stopped a few inches short at the tut that came from the bread lady.
“Not on the clean table, thank you! Just cleaned that and don’t want it smelling of fish when we’ve got sweet breads to make. Luniki, show him where the cold room is.”
The delivery man grabbed Trypp by the arm, making a show of scolding him, and guided him away from the table and towards a door opposite the range. He looked back at the maid and rolled his eyes. She stifled a laugh behind a cough. They entered into a long passageway, storerooms to either side, that led to a room encased in sheets of metal, sides of beef and pork hanging from the ceiling on hooks, bowls of offal stored for later and a deep open hole in front of him where he would bet that the ice was stored. Once the fish was safely deposited, Luniki nudged Trypp out ahead of him and back down the passageway. As they reached the kitchen, Trypp, looking over his shoulder to give Luniki the evil eye, bumped into someone.
He stayed his hand from automatically reaching for the small knife tucked away in his pocket, an involuntary reaction developed for his own self-preservation while being a thief with the Exiles, as he realized that he had bumped into the maid. She took a step back from the impact and he reached out to hold her arm and steady her.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello…” she returned, rather shyly.
“Oi. No flirting. She’s got jobs to do.” The cook seemed a lot less welcoming now—this bread had a tough crust that could probably knock a few teeth out, not to mention that big blade she was waving around as she spoke. “As I am sure you two have as well. Be off with you.”
Luniki apologized and gave Trypp a shove in the back to push him toward the door, but before Trypp left he gave the maid a deep bow. She laughed, not a titter but a large full-throated laugh, and as Trypp was ushered back out to the rear exit, he could hear the cook audibly telling the maid to beware of tall dark strangers.
Trypp had not been happy about having to continue making deliveries after going to Palombi’s villa. Luniki had laughed at first and told him he needed to keep up appearances. But after the second residence, Trypp had told him he was going to have to charge him for his labor out of his ‘contribution’.
Luniki let him off at the next street, the delivery man a few gold coins richer. Trypp was not sure how much of that would make it home to his family, given the greedy look in Luniki’s eye.
He’d learned a little from the errand, gaining an understanding of at least what lay behind that front door onto the grand canal and what level of security existed, and all before breakfast. But he hadn’t seen the bust proudly on display to impress any visitors as soon as they entered. No one ever made life easy for him. Not since the night he’d been given the job to steal from Neenahwi’s tower. Who gives a job of stealing from the daughter of the wizard of Edland to a lanky teenager? He’d often wondered about that. Wondered if Silas had been setting him up for a fall. Maybe the father of the Twilight Exiles had found out about some of his extra curriculars. The bastard had been positively gleeful when giving the order to run him out of town after Trypp had the gall to survive getting caught.
You live and learn. And what Trypp had learnt was you don’t rush into a job without having a full understanding of whatever situation you might be getting into. That, and also that Motega and Florian were two souls so bored that they would run off with a thief they just met for as yet undefined adventures, rather than stay in their gilded cage. It was funny how sometimes the worst situations led to the discovery of unlikely treasures.
So he spent the day wandering the narrow streets across the narrow canal behind Palombi’s villa, hoping that he could turn the little nuggets of information he had discovered earlier that morning into a real horde. He occasionally caught glimpses of Motega and Florian going about their own reconnaissance on their tod—as they generally preferred in these instances—but he stayed out of sight.
It was midafternoon by the time the early morning staff at the villa left for the day. Eight servants, trudging back to their homes, but it was one in particular that he had his eye on. The laughing maid. Following at a safe distance, so not to be observed by anyone who might have seen him earlier that day, he trailed her. This wasn’t normal practice for him, stalking a single woman like this, but he might be able to get her to help. As long as she didn’t notice him and get scared. For a good while she travelled through the old city with a man twice her age, until he waved a good bye and took a right turn. She walked briskly through the bustling streets, crossing the bridges to enter The Fan and passing through it until she reached the long narrow ferries that crossed back and forth to Spilver.
He was briefly concerned that he had lost her when they had to take different ferries, but luck was with him as he disembarked, turning in the right direction to see her retreating form. Trypp jogged by the people on the street, getting to within twenty feet or so of her without being noticed and followed her all the way to where she disappeared inside a modest house.
This was where he would really see if luck was on his side. If not, his near future would be one standing around outside for the next few hours, only to finally give up in regretful acceptance that she had gone to bed. That or he’d be arrested for sticking out like a sore thumb.
He loved it when his mind contemplated the downsides.
An hour or so passed. As Trypp munched on a dry sausage he had picked up from a nearby butchers, he saw the door to the house open.
Quickly, Trypp began walking in that direction, his attention seemingly lost in his meat snack, though he sneaked upward glances.
“Oh, I’m so sorry…” said Trypp, as he bumped into the maid. “It’s you!” he exclaimed in feigned surprise.
The girl looked momentarily shocked until she saw his face. She laughed infectiously again. “Twice in one day. You are clumsy. But what are you doing here?”
“Er…I live around the corner. I was just going to eat.”
She looked dubiously at the sausage in his hand.
“It’s just a snack, to tide me over.” He paused. “Fine, I was going for a drink.” He smiled, as if caught fibbing. “Would you like to join me?”
The maid looked around before answering. “I was just going to get something for my Da…” Trypp’s face sunk. “But he’s asleep anyway. He’s old. I could sneak away for half an hour I guess.”
Before she could change her mind, he looped her arm in his and whisked her off in the direction that he had been heading. On the short walk to a local tavern, they shared their names; Lia for her and Travis for him. He was pleased to discover that she was not the shy or retiring type, eager to ask as many questions as he was. They drank wine and the half hour passed without Trypp mentioning it. He ordered food for them to share and they both drank more. Trypp tallied more expenses against the profitability of this job. But he was also enjoying the conversation with Lia and her eager company. He turned the conversation around to her work, and she was happy to share her dislike for the lecherous Palombi, a surprising confluence with the lie that he had told Luniki just the previous evening.
“I’ve heard that Palombi has quite the art collection. Have you seen it?”
“Heh. What do you know about art? You spend time thinking about paintings of naked women while you’re hauling around fish?”
“I appreciate all manner of beautiful…subjects.” He almost cringed at that line, and so Trypp touched her hand as he spoke to cover the reaction. She didn’t pull away. He wondered if he would need to display his affection for her in other ways, which as it turned out might be quite enjoyable after all. “Someone told me he had a statue made of solid gold…”
“Likely story.” She laughed again. “I don’t know about that. But I know he has a room off his study that he doesn’t let anyone in. Seriously, what’s with all of the question about this stuff?”
Trypp was a little taken aback at the challenge. He wa
sn’t used to women looking past the persona he presented. “I was just thinking that with something like that, someone could make a lot of coin—”
“Ah, now I get it,” she interrupted.
“Could get a lot of coin for the future,” he continued. “This might sound quick, but we could get a place of our own. Get a nurse for your father.” He let that hang there in the air while he looked into her eyes.
A moment or two passed before she laughed so loud that the nearby tables turned around to stare.
“Fuck off. I just met you.” Lia leaned in close and locked gaze with him, adding in a whisper, “You’re a good-looking man, I’ll give you that. But I’ll just take the money, thank you very much.”
Trypp leaned back in his chair and smiled. Not exactly how he thought it would go, and he’d probably be spending the night back in the room at Atarah’s Hearth with his two snoring friends, but this would do.
“I think I can work with that.”
“…counted at least two guards when I was flying overhead with Per, but the roof seems to be in pretty good shape if we can make it.”
“We reckon it’s about thirty feet across on a wire from the nearest other building of a similar height. Bit far to walk across. Think we’re going to have to go up the outside.”
Trypp leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face and a beer in his hand as he listened to Motega and Florian tell him what they had discovered from their day’s efforts. They were some of the best in the business in identifying the security weak points of a potential target—Motega’s ability to merge his mind with his falcon was invaluable in being able to get overhead and obtain a different perspective on a problem—and Trypp couldn’t have asked for a better pair of partners if they happened to walk into trouble.
He was proud of what they had grown into, what he had been able to mold them into. True, they’d both been able to fight when he met them that night in Neenahwi’s tower, and that had lended itself well to their initial bouts of crypt diving and monster hunting; but it was extraction where the money lay, and it was Trypp who had taught them the trade.
“There’s been no talk about a flashy new bust being on display at the house, so we have to assume that it’s hidden away somewhere. And there is no obvious place separate from the rest of the villa, no tower or stretch of wall without windows that would indicate a secure room, so we think there must be something underground…” Motega trailed off as he looked at Trypp. “What are you smirking for?”
“Just wondering how long I’d have to wait before telling you how we’re going to do it.”
“Don’t keep it to yourself then. What have you got?”
“An insider.”
“Who? How the actual fuck have you got someone on the inside in just a couple of days?” asked Florian.
“Brains and charm, mate. That’s why, of the three of us, only I could have done it.” Trypp quickly dodged to the side laughing as he saw Motega’s open hand flying toward his head. “Alright, maybe if you’d have done it between you.” Motega and Florian looked at each other like they were trying to work out which was which.
“I’m definitely the charm,” said Florian. “I can live with that.”
“Boys, we need to drink up. We have an early morning tomorrow so our insider can open the back door for us…”
“Get in, quick.”
Trypp stepped from the dark, cool, early Iothan morning and into the dimly lit corridor he had been in the day before. “No guard?”
“I sent him to the kitchen for some leftover cake. He’ll be back soon,” whispered Lia.
Trypp gestured for Florian to come forward and held up one finger to indicate what they had to deal with immediately. The big man nodded and stretched his arms as he moved up ahead of them. Motega came in behind and closed the door silently behind him.
“I’ve got to go,” said Lia. “Do you remember what I told you?”
“Don’t worry,” said Trypp. “We’re professionals. I remember.”
“I hope you’re professional enough to remember to pay me the other half tomorrow.” Lia stood on tip toe, and Trypp thought she was going to kiss his cheek but she whispered into his ear. “I’m very good at remembering faces. Don’t forget that.” She strode away and he saw Motega and Florian exchange a knowing glance, making assumptions about what she must have said. Trypp grinned for a moment to cover a slight unease.
But it was time to focus.
Silently he crept past Florian and around the corner to the passageway that opened out on to the central courtyard. The light of the moon and the stars cast deep shadows by the wall and that was where he remained, his eyes flicking between the entrance to the kitchen and around the rest of the open space, looking for signs of other guards. He reached into a pocket at his belt and took out a small disc of mirror, being careful to hold it pointing at the ground.
He waited, conscious of his chest rising and falling as he remained at the ready to react.
The boy guard from the day before appeared from the lit kitchen, calling thanks to whoever was inside and closing the door behind him. He munched on something from his hand as he ambled toward them, flicking crumbs from his baggy chainmail shirt in between bites. Trypp flicked the mirror to reflect the light in the direction of the guard and the boy stopped at the entrance to the corridor of his typical post, catching sight of the glint but not able to see what caused it. That was fine. The signal was not for him, it was for Florian—who reached out with both arms and grabbed the kid, one hand around his mouth, the other looping around his neck. Florian hugged the boy tight, like the kid probably did with his blanket at night.
Trypp turned his attention back to the courtyard, looking to see if could spot the guard by the front entrance, or any others that might be lurking. As he focused on the thin crack of dim light that peeped under the front door, he made out the outstretched feet of someone sitting close by. Sitting in the dark? He’d bet a shiny crown that the man was asleep at his post. Good.
Lia had drawn a decent floor plan of the villa, which Trypp had committed to memory. The door on the other side, past the front entrance, was the most direct way up to the study—but he thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. They’d take the door by the kitchen and work their way through the upstairs. With any luck, given the time of morning and Lia occupying the other maid staff, they wouldn’t run in to anyone. Trypp signaled for his friends to follow him and they hugged the wall, creeping past the kitchen entrance, to the doorway. He unlocked it easily and behind it was a sharply turning set of stairs up to the second floor. The stairs opened out onto another long corridor, the left side lined with doors, and the right with windows that looked out on to the courtyard below. Staying away from the windows, they darted past the closed doors one at a time, careful not to have a single floorboard creak.
The corridor wrapped around the empty square of space in the center of the villa and the study was situated on the opposite side. They rounded the first corner and Trypp set off again, Motega behind him. He dashed past the first of two doors and waited a few feet away from it. Motega began to move just as the door opened and out stepped another guard, adjusting his trousers from whatever he had been doing moments before. Motega pulled up short, inches from the guard’s face.
“Fuck,” said Mot.
The guard lurched back in shock. Not good. Got to do something. Without thinking, Trypp pulled a thin stiletto from his side, took one step forward and pushed it through the back of the man’s neck. Motega’s eyes bulged as the knife neared his face. The guard gurgled as Trypp slowly guided him to the floor. Motega stuck his head inside the open doorway and then jerked a thumb for Trypp to drag the guard inside. A privy. Hopefully no one would come looking for the poor bastard for a while. He’d really been hoping that they could get in and out clean, but he supposed the money from this job was worth getting dirty for.
As Trypp emerged back out into the corridor he was greeted by Florian shaking his head and giving h
im one of those looks. He knew he would hear about this later. But what was he supposed to do? He didn’t have the strength to risk that sleep hold that Florian did on the kid. Trypp shook his head indicating that now was not the time, and turned on his heel to continue their quiet advance. The corridor turned to the right again, and if he remembered Lia’s map correctly, the door to the study would be the middle one.
He grasped the door handle tightly, opening it enough to peer inside, confident or at least hopeful that no one was inside because there had been no light visible below the door. Inside was a room lined floor to ceiling with shelves of books, except for a small window that was set in the middle of the opposite wall, just big enough for Florian to wriggle through in the event they needed a Plan B. A desk and a chair occupied the middle of the room, one more chair in the corner that they could use to barricade the door in a pinch. Trypp entered; Motega and Florian close behind. Once the door was closed, they each moved to a set of shelves and began to examine the books, flipping them forward to see if anything was hidden behind them. Lia had said she had heard from another maid that there was a secret room attached to the study and somehow the bookshelves were involved in the opening. He had relayed that information to his friends and so they each searched for a hidden lever or something.
“Oh, fuck!” exclaimed Florian.
Trypp whirled to see what was wrong but didn’t notice anything immediately. Until he saw what Florian was pointing at.
“I didn’t see it there.”
“Not a bloody cat,” said Trypp. “Not again. Throw it out the fucking window.”
“I am not throwing it out the window. It’s just sitting there. Big and fat.” Florian chuckled and went to stroke it but the cat hissed without moving from its cushioned seat, taking him aback. “I’m still not going to throw it out the window…”
It wasn’t the time to argue with the big man, so turning his attention back to the shelf in front of him, Trypp moved quickly along the row of books, flipping them forward, until one of them felt different. There were no pages to it, just a solid block painted to look like a book; when he tipped it, there was a faint click. He tried to pick it up but the book would not move. Nothing opened, but this has to be it. Maybe there are more.
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