She bared her teeth. “Why not? He’ll die just as easily as…” She caught herself before she spoke Sabat’s name. “…anyone else.”
“Yes, but remember, he’s the King’s brother. Kill him, and you’ll start a war.”
“Good!”
“Not good.” He spoke in a measured tone. “Think about it first. King Ohilmos has the Praamian Guard. There’re more of them than there are of us. Even if every Guild member stood against the Praamian Guard, we’d lose. We can’t wage war on the King. Which means you can’t harm the Duke.”
Ilanna threw herself to her feet. “Don’t presume to tell me what I can and can’t do, Allon!” She thrust a finger at the door. “If I want the Duke dead, I’ll bloody well put the dagger in him myself.”
“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just trying to stop you from ending up like Den—”
Her fist drove into his face, snapping his head back. “Don’t do that, you bastard. Denber wasn’t a fool. He didn’t get sloppy or make a mistake. So don’t use his name to try to scare me.”
Allon stiffened. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.” He worked his jaw muscles. “Not today. Not so soon after, and not with you like this.”
He stood and strode toward the door but stopped. “Let’s pretend this never happened. I didn’t come to insult you. I wanted to check on you. Crazy thing is, I actually care that you’re hurting. But I can see you need to be alone to process things your way.” He paused with a hand on the door latch. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I can say this: you can’t take his life without starting a war, but there has to be something else you can take from him. Think about that. You know where to find me.”
Ilanna said nothing as the door closed. She was beyond caring. How dare he come here and try to give me instructions? He may be Master Hawk’s nephew, but he has no right!
Yet his words made sense. The rational part of her mind, the part not clouded by alcohol and rage, knew she couldn’t murder the Duke. The Night Guild wouldn’t survive an all-out war with the Crown. She had to do something. But what?
Her thoughts refused to coalesce. She could think of nothing but sorrow at her loss, anger at the Duke, and helplessness as she watched her friend hang. Right now, she wanted just one thing.
She slipped into her dark cloak and fled the room. She leapt onto the Perch, sped her way up the ladders, walkways, and ropes. The silence of the Aerie rang in her ears. Once, shouts and laughter had filled the vaulted room. Denber, Prynn, Bert, Willem, and Werrin had chased each other through the tangled maze. Only she and Willem remained.
The chill night air of the Praamis rooftops drove back the liquor’s haze. She took a deep breath, welcomed the bite of cold. She ran until her arms, legs, and lungs burned from the exertion. She pushed her body to its limits. Anything to push away the memories of her friend’s death.
It seemed an eternity before she dropped into the silent streets of Old Town Market, leapt the wall, and stole into her house. She made no sound as she crept up the stairs and slipped into bed beside Kodyn. The child murmured in his sleep but Ria didn’t move. Ilanna didn’t have the heart to kick the girl from the bed. Ria needed Kodyn’s presence as much as she did.
For tonight, the three of them would share the bed. Ilanna closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Kodyn. She needed the boy’s warmth against her flesh, needed to feel his soft hands in hers.
She’d always dreamed of the day she could introduce her son to “Uncle Denber”. That day would never come now. But Kodyn’s existence remained a secret thanks to Denber. In a way, Denber lived on through Kodyn, just as Ethen did. For now, that had to be enough.
Chapter Seven
ILANNA’S MOUTH WATERED as she added a pinch of Ria’s dried rosemary to the skillet. A chunk of bread sizzled in the butter and she flipped it to brown the other side. Behind her, Kodyn chattered happily from the comfort of his chair, filling the air with tales of the previous day’s exploration of Old Town Market.
Ria sat with Kodyn, trying to scoop the occasional spoonful of thick porridge into his mouth whenever he ran out of breath. The mess running down his face and clothing illustrated her limited success.
Ilanna lifted the bread from the skillet and onto a wooden plate. Using a knife from her bracer, she sliced a chunk of cheese from the wedge sitting on the shelf.
A smile tugged at Ria’s lips as Ilanna placed the steaming food before her. The smile slipped as her eyes darted to Ilanna’s knife.
“Oh, sorry.” Ilanna wiped the blade on a wet cloth and replaced it in her bracer.
Ria shook her head and bit into the bread. Kodyn laughed and pointed at the melted cheese dripping down the girl’s chin. Ria responded by filling his mouth with porridge.
Ilanna smiled as she turned back to the skillet atop the wood stove. She had so few moments to relax like this. But after yesterday, she needed them.
Thoughts of the previous day brought back the gloom and her shoulders drooped. She forced herself to take a bite of the bread Ria had brought home from the market. The flavor of herbs and garlic couldn’t drown the bitterness filling her mouth. The pang of sorrow twisted her stomach, killed her appetite.
She took a seat and leaned back in her chair. She studied the dark-haired, food-stained boy beside her and, as always, her gaze drifted to Ria.
Ria’s dark skin intrigued Ilanna. Her own Praamian copper-colored skin was darker than the paler Voramians, but Ria’s ebony coloring stood out among even the few dusky Al Hani traders who visited Praamis. Ria had a longer nose, plumper, darker lips, and black hair with far more kinks and curls than Ilanna’s arrow-straight locks. She also stood half a hand taller, with a willowy grace Ilanna envied. Thieving would be much simpler without curving hips and breasts to stop her from slipping through small spaces.
Ilanna had no idea where Ria came from. She’d hesitated to ask. Since the night Ilanna found her in that brothel—an unsanctioned establishment she’d stumbled upon while fleeing from the Duke’s Arbitors—Ria hadn’t spoken of her past. Hadn’t spoken much about anything, for that matter.
“Mama?” Kodyn’s voice interrupted her musings.
“Yes, my love?” She turned her attention to the porridge-covered child.
“All done. Can I go play now?”
Ilanna turned to Ria. “He eat enough?”
Ria looked down at Kodyn’s bowl and shrugged.
“Very well.” Ilanna lifted Kodyn from his chair and pulled him into her lap. “But first, you have to give Mama a kiss.”
Kodyn pressed his lips to her cheek. “There.”
“Hmm. I think Mama needs more.” She held up three fingers. “This many more.”
“Mama!” Kodyn tried to squirm out of her grip.
She held him fast, and he squealed as she tickled him. Finally, he relented and gave her the requisite kisses.
“Now I go?”
She placed him on the floor, her eyes following his dash toward the garden. Her sorrow at Denber’s death hadn’t faded but her son’s presence made things better.
Ria stood and followed Kodyn. She no longer shuffled, head down. Instead, she moved with a lithe agility Ilanna found better suited to a warrior than a doxy.
Serving in the brothel hadn’t been Ria’s choice. Her pimps—slavers, really—had forced upon her daily doses of opiates. They’d beaten and tortured her, kept her chained in a lightless room with more than a dozen other girls. None older than two decades, some barely into their womanhood. All virtually mindless husks unable to protest as scum paraded through the blanket-walled abomination that passed for a bordello.
Ilanna knew that feeling of helplessness. She’d brought Ria to the only place she knew was truly safe. The girl had spent almost a year in Ilanna’s home, caring for Kodyn, recovering from the Watcher knew how many years of abuse. She hadn’t left the house for six months. In a way, Kodyn cared for her as much as she cared for him. Her first words had been to Kodyn. She’d shown the fi
rst hint of happiness when playing with the boy in the garden. It was why Ilanna had brought the girl here in the first place.
She’d come within a heartbeat of terminating her pregnancy. More than once, she wrestled with her choice to keep the child. All indecision had fled the moment she saw the little bundle in her arms. When she was with Kodyn, everything else faded. He saw her for her, with no pretense, no need to guard herself. The child had pulled her from the shell into which she’d withdrawn after Ethen’s death. She had hoped Kodyn would do the same for Ria. Every day, the child’s bright spirit drew her out a little more. The half-smile was the most visible reaction she’d shown. Ria had a long way to go, but Ilanna held hope the girl could recover. For now, Ilanna would provide the two things she needed most: a safe haven and Kodyn.
She glanced at the noonday sun and sighed. If only I had more time. Slipping into her cloak, she strode into the garden.
“Mama, you’re leaving?” Sadness filled Kodyn’s honey-colored eyes.
She nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She bent to kiss his forehead. “Be good for Ria.”
“I will, Mama.” He threw his muddy arms around her leg and clung tight. “Bring me a black birdie this time?”
“Of course, my little hawk.”
Regret panged in her stomach as she leapt the garden wall. She hated to leave Kodyn, but she had no choice. The more time she spent here, the higher the risk someone would come looking for her and discover her secret. With Denber gone, only one person knew of Kodyn: the midwife who’d delivered the boy. Better to keep it that way.
Thoughts of Denber darkened her mood. Images of the torments she’d visit upon the Duke filled her mind. He would suffer for what he’d done.
Allon’s words pushed the gruesome visions away. “You can’t take his life without starting a war, but there has to be something else you can take from him.”
Her body went through the motions of climbing to the Hawk’s Highway, but the problem of the Duke occupied her mind. She would have vengeance for Denber and Werrin. But how? If she couldn’t kill him, what else could she do?
Her eyes fixed on the obsidian structure towering over Praamis, and the city flew beneath her as she raced the distance to the Ward of Refuge. She settled onto the flat roof of the Coin Counters’ Temple, home of Garridos the Apprentice, god of ventures. She’d spent hours sitting with Denber, Werrin, Willem, Prynn, and Bert, studying the Black Spire and drinking in the colorful sunset over the Stannar River.
Her chest tightened at the memory. A wave of sorrow washed over her, mingling with loneliness. She was alone in the Night Guild. She could trust no one, not Allon, Master Hawk, and certainly not Master Gold.
No, alone is better. She compressed her emotions into a ball that she pushed deep, deep down. Alone, there is no one to fail me. No one to lose.
Her eyes roamed the cityscape, taking in the sun-baked roofs, walls washed white with limestone, and colorful awnings of the stalls bordering the Path of Penitence, the broad thoroughfare that cut through the Ward of Refuge and led to the opulent mansions of Old Praamis.
The city had sprung up around the Black Spire—the handiwork of the Serenii, the ancient race lost to time, some said. The old, wealthy families of Praamis owned the fertile land bordering the Stannar River. Opulent mansions dominated the west bank. The shanty towns south of Praamis housed the serfs who worked the pastures, fields of crops, and vineyards that sprawled from the east riverbank and disappeared over the horizon.
Once, Ilanna had gaped at the enormous structures of Old Praamis. Buildings of marble, stone older than the city itself, glass windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, and lawns, gardens, and thickets of old-growth trees. Old Praamis occupied a quarter of the modern city of Praamis. A staggering amount of the city’s wealth—that not controlled by the Night Guild or the Crown—passed through the fingers of the three-score nobles who called Old Praamis home.
The mansions had lost their grandeur. Ilanna saw only the arrogance and blinding greed of the petty lords and ladies of Praamis. The secrets hidden behind those façades of stone and perfection made House Bloodbear’s predations and the assassinations of House Serpent and House Scorpion seem philanthropic by comparison.
Amidst it all, Duke Elodon Phonnis made his home in the Black Spire, the obsidian dagger thrust into the belly of the sky. He’d boasted that the Black Spire was the most secure building in the city. Dozens of thieves had tried to prove him wrong and died for their efforts. Every failed attempt bolstered the Duke’s reputation. Nobles unwilling to turn to the Crown for protection from the Night Guild had sought out the Duke. His private army provided security to dozens of the wealthiest nobles of Praamis. He employed a legion of architects, engineers, and master metalsmiths to design and construct thief-proof security systems. The Night Guild had lost more than a few Journeymen and apprentices to the Duke’s clever traps and his private force of blue-robed Arbitors.
She’d tarnished his reputation by breaking into the Black Spire. The Night Guild had whispered into a few ears and spread word of her success among the nobility of Praamis. Many of the Duke’s prospective customers had turned to the Crown for protection.
That explains his personal vendetta. In the last five years, the Duke had augmented his efforts to combat thievery. He claimed it was to bring law and order to Praamis, but Ilanna knew better. He needed to repair the damage she’d done when she broke into the Black Spire.
That’s it! She couldn’t take his life, but she could ruin him.
She leapt to her feet and darted off across the rooftops. Running always helped her to think. Ideas trickled into her mind, but she discarded them as fast as they came. She needed time to formulate a plan of how to take down the Duke.
She could hit any number of homes around Old Praamis, those guarded by the Duke’s guards and thief-traps. But which?
It has to be bigger than the Black Spire. Something monumental.
The Duke struck a painful, personal blow when he executed Denber. She would return the favor.
Chapter Eight
ILANNA SNORTED AS she studied the interior of Count Chatham’s villa from atop a nearby roof. If he doesn’t want us to steal his wealth, he ought to improve his security.
Two guards stood at the gate, with another pair stationed at the front door. The four guards wouldn’t have dissuaded a mouse from entering the mansion; one guard actually yawned and leaned on his spear. A few lanterns hung from the pillars around the first floor, but they wouldn’t illuminate the upper levels after nightfall.
An open third-floor window drew her eye. That should make things easier. Even an apprentice could anchor a rope to the chimney and slip into the house that way. Her gaze traced the contours of the rooftop to where it drew within leaping distance of the neighboring house. She wouldn’t even need Jarl and the Pathfinders to make a way for her to reach his mansion. She could be in and out within an hour.
Well, that’s one task taken care of. She’d return to the Guild tunnels, gather her supplies, and return after dark. If all went well, she’d be home with Kodyn before midnight.
Count Chatham’s villa stood in The Gardens, an affluent district built in the shadow of Old Praamis. Close enough that the poorer nobles and wealthier merchants could delude themselves into believing they lived among the upper crust, but far enough that the true aristocracy didn’t have to mingle with their lessers.
Where the mansions of Old Praamis sprawled across vast estates, the dwellings in The Gardens were more pragmatic. They resembled strongholds built in a time when war ravaged Einan. The fortress-like manors rose five or six stories high, reaching for the sky instead of occupying valuable real estate. Their owners desired opulence, but not at the cost of protection.
The bulk of Duke Phonnis’ clients lived in The Gardens. The old-money nobles of Old Praamis relied on their house guards, while the merchants and landed gentry preferred to pay the Duke’s fees rather than hire their own armed watchmen. Th
e blue-clad guards in silver breastplates, black trousers, and spiked helms were a common sight among The Gardens.
Count Chatham, however, appeared to trust his own security. Once Ilanna showed him the foolishness of that belief, he would have two choices: throw himself on the Crown’s mercy or swallow the cost of hiring Duke Phonnis’ Arbitors.
With a final examination of her intended route, Ilanna slipped away from Count Chatham’s villa. The path through The Gardens was a challenge for even a skilled Hawk. The Arbitors dismantled the Hawk’s Highway—a network of ropes, wooden footbridges, and ladders interlacing every building in Praamis—wherever they encountered it. More than a few Pathfinders, the Hawk Journeymen who built the Highway, had bemoaned the challenge of finding clever ways to conceal the crossings from the Duke’s guards.
The late afternoon sun bathed The Gardens in a brilliant glow, transforming the mansions around Ilanna into something from a master painter’s canvas. The marble and granite buildings sparkled in the golden light.
If only more people knew what lay beneath the perfect façades.
It was in one of those mansions she’d found Ria. The Duke’s Arbitors had discovered Ilanna leaving the home of a particularly wealthy merchant-noble. She’d eluded them by slipping into the open upper-story window of a house she knew to be empty—the owner had fled the city the previous year on charges of fraud and embezzlement. To her horror, she’d found it home to dozens of hollow-eyed girls living in filth, serving as back-bedders. Slaves in service to sadists masquerading as their pimps. It had taken every shred of willpower for Ilanna to remain hidden when she ached to chop the bastards to pieces as she had Sabat.
When the Night Guild raided the illicit brothel, she’d entered through the window and caught a group of pimps by surprise before the Bloodbears brought down the front door. Blood soaked, a furious snarl twisting her lips, she’d hunted down every one of the flesh-peddlers. Only those who threw themselves on the Bloodbears’ mercy escaped her wrath.
Thief of the Night Guild Page 5
