by Beth Alvarez
He ducked in after her and reached for the buttons on his shirt. “Don't look.”
“That's disgusting. Nobody wants to see you, anyway.” The door clicked shut and Nia lingered beside it, staring at the crack where the wood met the stone doorframe.
Tahl stripped out of his everyday clothes as fast as he could. The uniform she'd brought him belonged to a guard. He didn't know whether that was brilliant or foolhardy. Either way, the outfit was a good fit, a testament to Niada's attention to detail. He adjusted his knives on his person before he put his boots back on. To him, they stood out like a red flag, dark brown instead of the black the guards wore in uniform. “Is there some boot black down here? I need it.”
She cast a hesitant glance over her shoulder, as if checking to make sure he was decent before she turned to face him. “Boot black?”
He pointed at his toes.
“I haven't seen any.” A note of apology colored her voice. “I think you're just going to have to wing it this time, Tahl.”
Which he could do, and did often, though he preferred a solid plan. He scooped his discarded clothing from the floor and folded it. Something crinkled in his pocket and he paused. In the midst of everything else, he'd forgotten. A small envelope rested in the pocket of his trousers. He drew it free and clasped it tight.
Nia cocked her head. “What's that?”
“For you.” He extended the envelope to her. The wrinkled paper under his fingers almost didn't feel real. “Instructions for what comes next. But don't read it until the heist is over.”
Her face fell. “I don't read that well, Tahl. You know I don't.”
“You do well enough. I used small words. You'll be fine.” He pushed the note into her hand. “Just take it. It's part of the plan and you'll need it.”
“Okay.” She sounded uncertain, but she took it anyway. Her fingertips traced the edge of the envelope's wax-sealed flap before she tucked it into her pocket and reached to take his clothes.
“You still have the barley?” he asked.
She nodded.
Tahl held on to the edge of his folded shirt. “Do what you need to here to get out without being noticed, then take this and the grain to my room at Ebitha's estate. Read the note tomorrow at noon to finish the plan. Understand?”
“I got it.” Her eyes flicked over him before they settled on his face with a hint of sadness in their green depths.
The way she looked at him made him uneasy. “What?” Was his uniform that incorrect?
“It's just weird,” she said, “seeing you look like the world you were born into. This could have been you, you know? Maybe this, instead of the mage academy. Your parents might have sent you to be a cadet.”
It might have been a better choice. Tahl was better suited to scouting than magecraft, though he struggled to make his magic useful anyway. “The world I was born into doesn't matter, Nia,” he said. “What matters is the world I'm in now. Are we good?”
“Almost.” She held up a finger and inched close enough to reach for his face. He started to pull back, but she was insistent, her eyes trained on his cheek. Her fingernails found the edge of the wax that filled his scar and bit by bit, she peeled it off.
He blinked at her, confused.
“There.” She balled the used wax in her hand and offered him a smile. “Now you're ready.”
“Why'd you do that?” His hand went to his face, traced the groove that dipped under his right eye and skimmed the bridge of his nose.
Nia padded back to the door and shot him a grin. “Because when you get out of here, the face they see is what's going to be on all your wanted posters. Don't forget, Tahl. From now on, you're the Ghost.”
Chapter 7
In another life, perhaps Tahl would have been a guard. He preferred the idea of an adventurous outpost on the untamed western coast, but he was comfortable enough in the crisp gray of a palace guard. He anticipated problems, but most of the palace staff put their heads down when he strode past, as if they expected abuse. Perhaps it wasn't far-fetched. Orrad's guard was as cruel as rumors held Atoras himself to be. Tahl was inclined to believe it. A hard man would want to work with hard men, to have them represent his power over the empire.
Somehow, the disposition of a leader had never crossed Tahl's mind. Bahar Eseri had been a cold and formal businessman. As result, his guild had been tightly structured and functioned like a business, itself. But what would the Ghost's guild be like? What was he like?
Maybe that's a question for Nia. In his head, he'd already taken to letting her handle the organization end of the guild. It seemed like the best solution, given her natural inclination to want involvement. Being the one who organized everything would let her have a finger in every pie.
But that was a worry for later. Right now, he had to find the emperor's quarters. His chances of swiping the crown directly from the emperor's head were nonexistent. His best hope was to pilfer it from wherever Atoras left it at night. Proud as the emperor must be, he couldn't hate himself enough to try to sleep with the crown on.
The windows were upstairs, so Tahl worked his way through the halls in search of a way up. A guard crossed an intersection in front of him and Tahl paused to study his appearance. Aside from the black boots, the only real difference was the weapon at the man's waist. Though the city guards carried short swords, this man in the palace had a long knife instead. Tahl considered that as he transferred his longest dagger to his belt and carried on.
A wide stairway cut upward to the next floor. Maintaining a sense of purpose was hard when he didn't know where he was going, but Tahl kept his chin up and his stride long. He'd almost reached the top of the staircase when a man in gray with an officer's stripes on his shoulders appeared in front of him.
The officer put out a hand. “Where are you going?”
Tahl stopped, but caught himself before his expression faltered. “I was told to report upstairs, sir.”
“Upstairs? To who?”
“Just upstairs, sir. They didn't say.”
The officer's eyes narrowed. “Who sent you?”
Tahl straightened a shade and brought his heels closer together. “I was at the stable gate, sir.”
A low groan escaped the officer's throat. “Not the stablemaster again. Nobody cares about his bloody fences.”
“I was just told to report, sir.”
“Fine.” The man rolled his eyes. “Go up.”
Tahl shifted on the stairs, uncertain.
The officer's lip peeled back in a snarl. “What?”
“They didn't tell me who to report to, sir. I assumed you would know where I'm expected.”
Though Tahl expected the officer to yell at him, the man instead drew a breath as if to shout, then paused. His eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
The question set Tahl's heart to racing. He straightened a little more and racked his memory for a believable story. His uniform bore no insignia. He decided not to push his luck. “Private Chal, sir.” The name was the first that sprang to mind. Somehow, he doubted his childhood friend from the southern coast would mind.
“Private?” the officer asked. One of his brows lifted a hair.
Tahl wished he could remember what the different insignia meant. The stripes on the man's shoulders meant nothing to him. “Just recently graduated, sir.” He allowed himself a nervous lick of his lips. It wasn't unrealistic for a newcomer to be intimidated. “This is my first post, sir.”
“I don't remember a Chal on the list of new guards.”
Tahl didn't dare smile. “I'll do my best to be more memorable in the future, sir.”
The man's gaze fixed on Tahl's scar, as if he committed it to memory. Let him, Tahl thought. By the time they realized who he was, he'd be long gone. Nia had been smart to remove the wax. By morning, the Ghost's face would be on countless flyers. Assuming he made it out alive, that was.
“Upstairs,” the officer said finally, easing back on his heels. “Third floor. Corporal Denen
should be going over records in the library.”
Tahl bowed his head in appreciative respect. “Thank you, sir.” He stepped aside to let the man pass. Once the officer was halfway down the stairs, Tahl turned to sprint onward. He had no intention of seeing Corporal Denen, much less reporting to the man, but the existence of a library that far into the palace was interesting. Depending on how labyrinthine the shelves were, it might make a good place to hide—and an easy excuse, should he be caught. It seemed plausible that a mere private might be assigned to research that could go on well into the night.
He expected resistance as he progressed through the palace, but found none, which was fortunate. He didn't know where the library was and cracked numerous doors in his search. The serving staff paid him little mind; one benefit of his stolen uniform.
Tahl considered trying to push farther into the palace and find the emperor's rooms. The library was a good fallback if he couldn't find them. It seemed like a reasonable plan, anyway. Satisfied with his decision, he trekked up the last flight of stairs.
By now, he had a reasonable map of the palace in his head. He'd avoided areas like the throne room or formal dining halls, but those were large spaces that were impossible to miss. A good portion of the middle floors were devoted to business and functionality, while most of what he'd seen in the recesses of the first floor—and the basement—were devoted to supply storage and simple rooms for the serving staff. As he moved through the third floor, the offices were replaced with fine lodgings, likely meant for nobles, officers, or visiting dignitaries. That left the top floor of the castle for the royal family.
At the top of the stairs, the fine furnishings began. The vivid red Emperor Atoras favored colored everything in sight—the plush rugs underfoot, tall tapestries on the walls, even a vase of fresh flowers set against a wall. Hallways split from the top of the stairs and Tahl considered his options. Judging by what he knew of the structure, he was farther to the west side. To his right had to be the castle's only balcony, and its entrance was likely somewhere near the emperor's quarters.
Tahl turned right and kept his pace quick and confident. He hadn't gone far before he reached the balcony's doors, and they were so unlike anything he'd ever seen that he stopped to stare.
The tall pair of doors were made of etched glass, so clear it had to have been crafted by mages. The images that frosted its surface were detailed beyond belief, portrayals of flowers and vines so delicate they seemed at war with the stern palace that surrounded them. Beyond the glass, a garden sprawled across the balcony.
The exotic flowers and shrubs called out to be inspected and Tahl's natural curiosity tingled. But he wasn't there to see gardens. He forced himself to move on.
Farther down the hall, a single guard stood beside a broad, ornately carved wooden door. The only door worth a guard, he noted. No mystery who that belonged to. At least they'd made the finding part easy.
Now to get past that guard, Tahl mused. He'd anticipated that difficulty from the beginning, yet now that it faced him, part of him balked. Worst was knowing that even if getting into the emperor's quarters was a challenge, the real challenge began when he tried to leave. He was no fool and didn't believe he'd be able to grab the crown and vanish without being noticed. Getting his hands on his mark was always the easiest part of the job. Getting away with it was different.
You're not a thief until you have it in hand. He slid back a step and retreated to the garden doors to gaze outside. A moment to plan how he would proceed couldn't hurt. He clasped his hands behind his back and studied the shape of the balcony and the garden he'd never known was there.
“What are you doing?” called the guard by the door.
So much for a moment to think. Tahl leaned back to look the guard's way. “Just looking,” he called back. “I'm on break.”
“You're on break and you wanted to look at flowers?” The man sounded skeptical.
Tahl shrugged and reached for the door. Even the handles were glass, beautiful twisted things that resembled leaves. He pulled, and the doors rattled. Locked. He didn't know how and couldn't see a mechanism, but it clanked again when he gave it another tug. “Don't you ever get curious? I've never been out there. The view of the city must be amazing.”
The guard considered that, his head tilted to one side.
“Imagine being wealthy enough to have a garden like that to begin with.” Tahl let his hand drop. He crept up the hall to join the man. “But I guess you're used to seeing it. It probably loses its wonder after a while. This is my first station, so everything is...”
“Overwhelming,” the guard supplied, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Exactly.” Tahl's thumbs itched to hook in his pockets, but that seemed too casual for a guard in a crisp uniform, so he kept his hands relaxed by his sides. “So I've been using my breaks to explore a bit. I feel like they don't mind as much if I'm in uniform. Someone might object to me poking around the castle when I'm off duty.”
The guard grunted. “Probably so.”
Tahl rocked on his heels and let his gaze wander. The guard didn't seem to mind his innocent chatter. In fact, he seemed grateful. How long had he been on duty, watching an empty room? The hallway was dead silent, and had been since Tahl arrived.
“So these are the royal quarters, right? Have you seen inside? Are they big?” The inanity of the question was so rich that even Tahl almost winced.
The corner of the guard's eye tightened a shade, but he sighed and shrugged. “Like you'd expect. Man rules the whole southern portion of the Westkings, practically a continent on its own. His quarters reflect it.”
Tahl nodded along, as if his suspicions were being confirmed. “My family's estate was by no means small, but I bet the whole house could fit in the top floor of Orrad's castle, if you could slice it up like that. I don't know... seems like it would get lonely.”
“Lonely?” the guard repeated.
“Well, it's just his, right? The rest of the royal family has their own space?” Tahl waved a hand toward the other doors—conspicuously unguarded doors—that lined the hall. “I can't imagine having that much space and no one to share it with.”
“I suppose that's true,” the guard agreed in a slow drawl. “They don't pay us well enough for a space much bigger than the emperor's private water closet, but even my little space would be lonesome without my wife.” A hint of a smile cracked through his bored expression.
Tahl grinned, less at the expression and more at the piece of valuable information wiggled free. Atoras was alone in his quarters at night. No one else to look out for. “You smirk like a newlywed.”
“Six months.” The man's smile turned sheepish. “Hoping for a little one soon. Ah, but you're too young to care about that yet.”
“Too early for me to settle down,” Tahl agreed, “but I'm happy for you. Congratulations.” He paused to glance toward the glass doors, to see the way the light had shifted on the floor. “I think my break's up. Nice talking.”
“Yeah,” the guard agreed with another sigh. “Nice change of pace. It's a long shift up here, quiet as it is.”
“Is it? I'll swing back some time. Maybe you can give me some recommendations for parts of the castle I should explore.” Tahl took several steps backwards before he turned back the way he'd come. “Enjoy your evening.”
The guard didn't reply, but Tahl had meant it sincerely. The man had seemed amicable enough. With fortune, perhaps he wouldn't be the guard on duty when night fell.
Chapter 8
Aside from the emperor's private quarters, the rooms on the upper floor of the palace were unguarded. Tahl dipped back to the staircase to wait for a moment. It wouldn't take long for his new friend to turn his attention elsewhere. After sufficient time had passed, Tahl slipped back into the hallway and crept to a nearby door. It wasn't locked, and he crept inside without notice.
The room beyond appeared to be guest quarters, clean but bland in decorating. Judging by where he stood, he
suspected he was two suites down from the emperor's rooms. It was a good hiding place, assuming Atoras had no visitors today, and Tahl stalked to the window to get his bearings. The horse gate in the north wall was visible from where he stood. It might have been promising for an escape if he hadn't been on the fourth floor. And still not in the emperor's quarters.
His fingers explored the window frame while a frown tugged at his face. If the windows didn't open, any hope of using them was pointless. At the side, he found an odd protrusion. When he flicked it, a soft click sounded and the window parted down the center to swing open. He'd seen the seam between the two panes of mage-made glass, but had assumed it was simply a design choice instead of a parting line. Perhaps the balcony doors opened the same way.
“Useful,” he muttered to himself as he leaned forward. He didn't dare let himself be seen hanging out the window, but he pressed his shoulder to the wall beside it and waited until the yard below was clear. Then he allowed himself a moment to check the wall on the other side.
The windows to the emperor's quarters would be to the right. He saw a window perhaps ten feet away, but the wall surrounding it was perfectly smooth. No way to reach it and no way to make handholds. Even if he'd had a pick of some sort—a tool he'd used to scale difficult buildings in the past—he wouldn't have been able to find mortared seams wide enough to jab the thing into.
“In and out the front door it is, then.” Tahl closed the window and marveled at the way the latch snapped shut on its own. If he weren't there to rob the place, he'd be tempted to stay and study it. With a new guild headquarters to outfit, it seemed wise to keep an eye open for unique additions.
Tahl crept back to the door and leaned close to listen. Unsurprisingly, the hall beyond was silent. No footfalls. No conversation. Now and then, he caught the soft scuff of boots against the carpet as the lone guard shifted.
