She froze. Her heart stopped and she held her breath.
The light slipped over her head, across the door, and along the row of shelves. The guard’s whistling grew fainter as he continued his patrol.
Ilanna gave a half-sigh, half-gasp and twisted the pick. The final lock snapped into place. The door swung open.
“We’re in.”
Errik slipped past her with a grin. “Never doubted you.”
Closing and locking the door behind her, she turned to examine the thousands of scrolls filling shelves, cabinets, and drawers. This is going to be a long damned night.
Chapter Sixteen
MUTTERING A CURSE, Ilanna shoved the scroll back onto the shelf. Two hours of this and not a Keeper-damned thing to show for it! At Errik’s hiss, she ducked behind a desk. Things’d go a lot easier if that bloody Reckoner didn’t pass every ten minutes. The broad beam of his lantern shone through the metal grate separating the secure storage room from the public records. If he saw them, they’d have no way out.
Her eyes ached from studying plans by the light of her miniature quickfire globes. Not for the first time, she considered sending Errik to dispatch the guard. At least they’d have an hour or two to search the enormous records storage room with a proper lamp. She shoved the thought away. Better to remain undetected for as long as possible, even if that meant straining to see in the dim light.
The guard finally moved on and, with a sigh, Ilanna rummaged through another cabinet. The room stretched fifty paces long and close to three hundred wide. Scrolls, boxed records, books, and stacks of parchments lined the walls from floor to ceiling, not to mention the four rows of free-standing shelving in the middle of the room.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to read each piece of paper. The Duke’s engineers used a special paper stock: larger and thicker than clerical parchment, made of compressed cotton rather than vellum or wood pulp. Cotton better held the graphite lines used for diagrams, sketches, blueprints, and architectural designs.
How Master Gold knew what Duke Phonnis’ blueprints looked like, she’d never know. The Night Guild cultivated contacts everywhere—was it so hard to believe someone was willing to sell information on the Duke? She wouldn’t complain; it made her job easier. She could feel her way along the shelves, though the absolute darkness of the enclosed records room made her skin crawl. The faint glimmer of the quickfire globes kept her from bumping into obstacles.
Errik had his own globes but she moved far faster than he. He kept an eye out for the guard, freeing her to focus on the search.
Not that we’re getting anywhere. She’d found a few dozen blueprints stored among the property of other nobles. Nothing belonging to the Duke.
“How much longer?” They had to leave before sunrise.
Errik shook his head. “An hour, maybe two.”
With a low growl, Ilanna bent her attention to the laborious search. A nagging in the pit of her stomach told her they’d have to come back tomorrow night.
* * *
“WHAT?” ILANNA CLUNG to the rope, her body half-out the open window. “You’re not coming with me?”
Errik shook his head. “Easier if I stay. Means I can get you in earlier tomorrow night. More time to search.” He motioned to the dusty furniture piled around him. “No one’ll find me in here.”
Ilanna wanted to protest but his resolute expression dissuaded her. He knew his business.
“Until tomorrow night.”
“Be on the roof before sundown. I’ll get you in the second hour after dark. Most Reckoners are in their rooms by nightfall.”
Ilanna nodded. “So be it.”
“And bring food.”
“You got it. Stale bread and moldy cheese.”
He gave a rueful grin. “My favorite.”
Returning his smile, Ilanna slipped out the open window. The guards had passed scarcely five minutes before; she had plenty of time to climb the short distance to the roof. She left the rope in a tight coil around Jarl’s anchor.
A quick glance at the sky told her she had another hour before sunrise. The thrill of breaking into the temple hadn’t worn off; the way her heart pounded its excitement, she’d never get to sleep. Her desire to see Kodyn warred with her fear of getting caught. Prudence won.
At least I’ll have time for a bath and a meal before the House meeting today. Another confrontation with Bryden would leave her wishing for a bath after the meeting as well.
* * *
WHERE IS EVERYONE? Ilanna looked around the empty chamber where House Hawk held its weekly meetings. The Aerie had been empty when she entered, the tunnels deserted. She’d thought nothing of it. The Hawks should all be in here. So where in the Maiden’s name are they?
Halfway down the corridor, she spotted Eustyss, one of Bryden’s crew. “Oi, Eustyss, where is everyone?”
The Hawk spun. “There you are!” Annoyance flashed across his face. “Been searchin’ every bleedin’ corner of this place for you. Master Hawk says to get yer arse over to the Menagerie an hour ago.”
The Menagerie? The Guild only used the enormous chamber when choosing apprentices, swearing in new Journeyman, or discussing matters that affected every House, matters the House Masters deemed important for all to know. Apprehension settled like a stone in her gut.
“What for?”
Eustyss shrugged. “My name ain’t Master bleedin’ Hawk, is it? Now you gonna keep askin’ useless questions, or are we goin’ to get gettin’ so we don’t miss whatever’s so important a man’s roused from bed before sunrise?”
Stifling a rejoinder, Ilanna strode past him and out the enormous doors of House Hawk.
* * *
“BROTHERS AND SISTERS, fellow Journeymen, for twenty-three years, I have served as Guild Master.” Master Gold’s voice boomed through the Menagerie. “For twenty-three years, I have borne the burden of making difficult choices. Together with your House Masters”—his gesture included the seven figures seated at the front of the crowd—“I have strived to ensure that each and every one of you has a chance to prosper in service to the Night Guild. Many of our choices were made behind closed doors, with only a few voices to lend counsel.”
The Guild Master wore no ceremonial robes, no jewelry. He stood clad in simple clothing of muted colors cut in a style common among the tradesmen of Praamis. The modesty somehow underscored the solemnity of the occasion. The knot in Ilanna’s stomach grew.
“But today, I bring to you a matter that cannot be decided only by your House Masters. What you are about to hear affects us all, and it is a choice you each must make. Listen well, for now you, too, will share the burden of difficult decisions.” He bowed and stepped aside.
The man who took his place stood almost a head taller than the Guild Master, and the breadth of his shoulders rivaled even Master Bloodbear’s. His rich garments, the precision of his neat goatee accented the confidence in his eyes as he stared out over the sea of Journeymen.
“Honored members of the Night Guild, my name is Blinton, but I am simply the mouthpiece sent by my master to deliver a message. I bring you a message of hope, a promise for a better future for every one of you. I greet you in the name of Saldinar, First of the Bloody Hand.”
Ilanna stiffened. The Journeymen around her muttered, a nervous tension thickening the air.
“My master has a question for you.” A fiery intensity blazed in the man’s eyes. “He asks you: who is the ultimate power in Praamis?”
No one answered.
“Does the Night Guild rule supreme? Duke Phonnis? King Ohilmos?” He turned his palms up as if balancing a scale. “There is an equilibrium, one that must be maintained for the sake of order. You answer to the King and he turns a blind eye to your activities. After all, a unified Guild is in the interests of all. Duke Phonnis and his Praamian Guard protect the citizens of this city, but they will only act insofar as the King permits.” He nodded. “It is the way things are and have been for decades. All in the name of a peace
ful city.”
His face grew stony. “But in Voramis, there is one true power. King Gavian may sit the throne but he is naught but a figurehead. He dares not send his Heresiarchs against the Bloody Hand for fear of retribution. The Bloody Hand rules supreme in Voramis.”
He spread his arms wide. “That is what I offer: true power, control over the city of Praamis.”
“An intriguing offer.” Master Serpent leaned forward in his chairs. “Only a fool would turn it down.”
A smile spread across the Voramian’s face.
“But,” Master Serpent held up a hand, and the man’s confident grin slipped a fraction, “I’ve learned that an outstretched hand often distracts from a hidden dagger. Show us the dagger, man of Voramis.”
“A fair point, Master of House Serpent.” The man’s jaw muscles worked. “My master’s offer is simple: join us. Unite the power of the Night Guild with the Bloody Hand. In Voramis, every Justiciar, every Heresiarch commander, every nobleman either serves the Bloody Hand or knows what will happen if they interfere in our business. Our rule over Voramis is complete. We offer you the chance to do the same in Praamis.”
Master Scorpion spoke. “And what’s in it for the Bloody Hand? Why would your master extend such generosity and help us take control of our city?”
“For a small share of your profits.” The Voramian gave a dismissive wave. “Just as your Journeymen turn over a percentage of their earnings to you in exchange for the protection of the Guild, the Guild will do the same to the Bloody Hand. In return, we offer the total domination of Praamis, just as in Voramis.”
The crowd shifted and murmured. More than a few of the Journeymen around Ilanna sounded intrigued at the idea.
“What of our tyros?” This voice belonged to Master Velvet. “How will they be trained?”
Master Bloodbear spoke up. “Who would rule the streets and keep order? Is the Bloody Hand thinking to replace House Bloodbear?”
“Would the Bloody Hand conform to our Guild structure?” Master Hawk chimed in. “Or would we be expected to admit any hoodlums and thugs that seek acceptance?”
Ilanna pushed through the crowd. “And what of our independence? Are you expecting us to take orders from your ilk?”
“What percentage of our profits?” Anorria, the Scorpion bookkeeper, moved to stand beside Ilanna. “How much will our ‘alliance’ with the Bloody Hand cost?” Her words held a generous helping of scorn.
The barrage of questions seemed to catch Blinton off guard. He stammered, flustered.
Master Gold stepped forward and, raising a hand for silence, turned to the Voramian. “We have heard your master’s offer. As you can see, there are a lot of questions that must be answered.”
Blinton blinked, recovering his composure only with great effort. “My master would be happy to answer all your questions. All are good questions. The Bloody Hand will negotiate the answers to your, and our, satisfaction. I simply bring his message, and would be happy to return to him with yours.”
“Of course.” Master Gold nodded. “Allow us time to discuss amongst ourselves. You will have our answer before nightfall.”
“As you say.” Bowing to Master Gold, Blinton addressed the gathered Journeymen. “Your Guild Master called you brothers and sisters, comrades. It is my fervent wish that I, too, will soon call you my brothers and sisters.” With that, the Voramian strode from the Menagerie. A surreptitious gesture from Master Gold sent two Serpents in his wake.
The Guild Master gestured at the crowd. “You have heard the Bloody Hand’s offer. You’ve all heard the tales from Voramis and you know the reputation of the First and his organization. I will not taint your thoughts with my own opinions. It is up to each of you to choose for yourselves what we will do. Go to your Houses, discuss our course of action, and put it to the vote. Your Masters and I have sworn to abide by your decisions. The fate of the Night Guild rests in your hands, my brothers and sisters.”
* * *
“THERE’S NOT A Keeper-damned chance we’re going to accept their offer! If even half of the stories about those bastards are true, they make the Bloodbears look like the bleedin’ Sisters of Mercy.”
Ilanna had never seen the quiet, grey-haired Sayk so animated. The man paced around the Hawk Council Chamber, red-faced, arms waving for emphasis.
“The fact that we have to discuss it shows that some of you are too stupid to find your own arses with a map and a search party.”
Master Hawk held up a hand. “Your sentiments are noted, Sayk. But all must have a chance to speak.”
Sayk took a seat, his expression a tapestry of indignant rage.
The House Master motioned to the room. “Anyone else have aught to say?”
More than a few brows remained furrowed in thought.
How in the frozen hell can they consider this? Ilanna would rather be planning the Duke’s job, but she had to attend to this very serious problem.
The Bloody Hand had appeared in Voramis before she was born. Once, nothing more than a pack of thugs, thieves, and assassins, they had staked their claim to the Blackfall District in Lower Voramis. They’d turned the Blackfall into a place where the citizens of Voramis—first the commoners, then the nobility—could indulge in every vice and pleasure of the flesh. Their power had grown slowly at first, then at a terrifying speed as they expanded their hold on the city.
For years, war had consumed Voramis. The rival gangs refused to relinquish their territory but the Bloody Hand would not be stopped. They used whatever means necessary to eliminate the competition.
Master Hawk had told her stories of the headless corpses left hanging from the city gates. Hundreds of Voramians had simply vanished, hundreds more killed in violent altercations between gangs. In vain, the Heresiarchs had attempted to stem the tide of bloodshed and brutality.
Then came the day when the Bloody Hand had either eliminated their rivals or convinced them to join. The First had turned his attention to the nobility. The commoners of Voramis had hidden in their homes as bands of thugs swept through Upper Voramis, dragging noblemen and women from their mansions to execute them in public. On the First’s orders, an entire section of Upper Voramis had been set to the torch to send a message: noble blood could not protect against the Bloody Hand. The nobility responded by acceding to the demands for gold, and the violence ceased.
The King at the time, Darayn, had ordered his Heresiarchs to bring the Bloody Hand to justice. Two days later, his chancellor found the King and Queen in bed, throats slit, royal blood staining silks and bedding worth a fortune. King Gavian hadn’t repeated his father’s mistake. The young King preferred to ride his horses, train with his blademaster, and bed the gaggle of aristocratic daughters eager for the honor.
For almost a decade, the Bloody Hand had reigned supreme in Voramis through cruelty and savagery. They controlled the populace by providing what they most desired: fair wages, cheap alcohol, and carnal pleasures. The city had adapted to the Bloody Hand’s presence but still they remembered the horrors endured.
And now the Bloody Hand wanted to bring that to Praamis.
“I’m with Sayk.” She stood, hands on her hips. “If we agree to their offer, we all know what’ll happen to our city. Praamis might not be paradise but I can’t let it become another Voramis.”
Bryden rose to his feet. “On the other hand, their offer does have merit.” He met her gaze, scorn sparkling in his eyes.
Ilanna glared. Damn you, Bryden. The Hawk would insist the sun set in the south, if only to contradict her.
“After what happened to your friends”—he struggled to hide a gleeful grin at the jab—“I think you, of all people, would want to do whatever it took to prevent more deaths. If the Bloody Hand’s offer of power is good, we could run Praamis however we wanted to.” He turned to Master Hawk. “No more contracts for the King, no more limits on which houses we can and can’t hit. We would be masters of the city!”
“At what cost, Bryden?” Ilanna’s voi
ce rose to a shout. “You want thousands of people to die so, what, you can earn a few more imperials? Can your greed truly eclipse your intelligence?”
Bryden scowled. “I—”
“Enough!” Master Hawk’s voice cracked like a whip. “If you can’t restrain yourselves from bickering when lives hang in the balance, shut your Watcher-damned mouths and sit down.”
Bryden opened his mouth to speak.
“NOW!” The roar set the walls rattling.
The Hawk dropped into his seat and Ilanna followed suit.
“Does anyone else have something useful to add to the discussion?” His piercing gaze scanned the room. “No? Then let us put it to a vote.”
“All in favor of accepting the Bloody Hand’s offer?”
A knot of fear formed in Ilanna’s gut as she waited. Two hands rose. Bryden’s wasn’t one of them.
“All opposed?”
Close to twenty hands shot into the air with no hesitation.
“So be it.” Master Hawk nodded, his face growing somber. “House Hawk stands against the Bloody Hand.”
For better or worse, Ilanna thought. Gods help us all.
Chapter Seventeen
ILANNA’S BOOTS WORE a groove into the packed-earth floor as she waited for the Guild Council to reach a decision.
I can’t understand why this is even a debate. How could anyone actually want the Bloody Hand running loose in Praamis? Are any of the other Houses that stupid?
She couldn’t deny the allure of the power they offered. If the Guild controlled Praamis, Denber wouldn’t have died.
It’s still not worth it. Inviting the Bloody Hand to Praamis would spell the end of the Guild’s way of life. The Voramians would bring only chaos, turmoil, and bloodshed.
Her gut tightened at the click of the Council door opening. A red-faced Master Bloodbear stomped down the tunnel. Master Hound gave her a curt nod, and Master Fox’s moustache bristled as he strode from the room.
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