by Beth Alvarez
The queen offered a tight smile.
As if nothing were out of the ordinary, Tahl strode toward his office door. “Did you get me those blueprints?”
Jeran almost bounced to the door to meet him. “Yes, sir. They're on your desk, along with a full list of materials necessary for the... project.” His eyes darted toward the queen.
“You really are the Ghost, aren't you?” Oria asked softly.
“I'm surprised you still had any doubts.” Tahl unlatched the door and let it stand open, as was customary when he was present.
The queen leaned forward to peer inside. “Where are we?”
“Guild headquarters. You don't need to know anything else.” Tahl paced around his desk and pulled back his chair. He sat without taking his eyes off her and pointed toward a set of chairs beside the door. “Come in. Make yourself comfortable. Let's discuss this business proposition of yours.”
Oria sat on the edge of a chair, resting her hands on her knees. “I would like to know who Rupert is.”
“He's our bear,” Jeran put in helpfully from the doorway.
Her eyes widened.
“He's a bear,” Tahl corrected. “He doesn't technically belong to anybody. Which is why we like to know when he is home.”
“It's also entirely possible that he is a she,” Nia added as she posted herself at Tahl's back. “We're waiting to see if there are cubs in the spring. Then we'll have three Ruperts.”
“This doesn't sound entirely sane,” Oria said.
Tahl flashed her a grin. “Welcome to the guild.”
“What makes you think there would be three?” Jeran asked in a low voice.
Tahl flicked a hand. “Out. I'm doing business.”
Jeran ducked his head and disappeared from the doorway. They'd have to discuss the blueprints, but that was best left for another time.
“So,” Tahl said, lacing his fingers together as he let his attention settle on the queen. “You want me to steal something.”
Oria offered a grim smile. “Assuming you can find it.”
“Thieves are treasure hunters with a higher risk tolerance. Trust me, I can find it.”
“Perhaps.” One of the queen's slim fingers tapped a nervous rhythm against her knee. “It's a shipment. Somewhat large, multiple crates. I want them all. But I don't know where they're coming from. I don't think the contents originate in the empire. I think they may be coming from the north, but I can't rule out the possibility of Raeldan.”
Tahl watched her hand. Her finger grew still when she finished. Was it the information that made her nervous, or the contents of the crates she wanted? “Intercepting cargo at point of import should be easy. Even if it's brought by land, it can only enter Orrad through so many avenues.”
The corner of her mouth twitched.
“It is entering Orrad, yes?” Tahl asked, careful to sound neutrally disinterested.
She gave a single nod. “I believe so.” No finger taps that time.
Nia's hand brushed his shoulder. One finger pressed against his collarbone. She'd noticed it too. He glanced up, pretending she only wanted his attention.
“Water?” Nia offered.
Tahl shot the queen a questioning look.
“No, thank you.” Oria gave him that solemn smile again.
“Just us. Thank you.” He motioned between his chest and Nia with a thumb and watched her leave. Then he returned to his questions. “Who's importing it?”
Oria's hands tightened against her knees. “That's none of your concern.”
“Your husband?” he guessed.
Her eyes hardened. “Who is importing it isn't relevant to the job.”
“No, but knowing who I'm getting myself in trouble with is.” Tahl reclined in his chair and stroked his chin. The hint of stubble there startled him. He needed a chance to go home, rest, and recuperate.
“You're already in trouble with my husband,” Oria said.
Tahl allowed himself a chuckle as his eyes swept toward the crown nestled among the belongings on his shelf. “So I am.”
The queen followed his gaze and studied the crown with a hint too much interest.
He stroked his chin again. “You know what it does.”
Oria shifted forward and hovered at the edge of her seat for a moment before she rose. “You know a lot about magic for someone who claims not to be a mage.” She paced around his desk to stand before the shelf and study the crown, her hands clasped behind her back.
“It's important knowledge.” Tahl watched her, but did not move.
“You've worn it?” Her hand lifted, as if she wanted to touch the glittering gems, but she forced it back down.
“Have you?” he countered.
The queen blinked at him. Then a faint smile pulled at her delicate lips. “I have a crown of my own.”
“It would seem so.” Tahl straightened as Nia returned with a pair of cups in hand. They were simple earthenware, nothing like the collection of fine crystal and molded silver that decorated his shelves. From the look on Oria's face, she found the difference interesting, too. He took a cup and took a sip. “We haven't discussed payment.”
“Two hundred thousand pims.”
Tahl choked on his water.
“For cargo retrieval?” Nia asked as she rested a hip against the corner of the Tahl's desk. “What's in the boxes, bricks of gold?”
Oria lifted her chin. “That's what I'm willing to pay. Take it or leave it.”
Water dripped from Tahl's chin and he swiped it away with the back of his hand. “You're asking me to go into this practically blind. You've given me no real information about the job. You can buy ignorance from peasants, but not from me.” He thunked his cup onto the desk.
“I don't think you have a choice.” Annoyance glittered in the woman's dark eyes. “You can aid me or you can die for kidnapping the empire's queen.”
“Only a fool would make a decision based on the money alone.” He stood and circled the desk with Nia at his heels, putting himself between the queen and the door. “Besides, you can't do anything to me. You're trapped here.”
Her eyes widened and she lunged forward, but Tahl caught her and flung her back. She crashed into the shelves, trinkets and treasures raining to the floor around her. He grabbed Nia by the arm, hauled her out of the office, and slammed the door.
“All of you, come here!” Tahl roared.
All across the headquarters, thieves popped to their feet. There were never more than a half-dozen people in the headquarters at once, aside from Nia and himself, a rule Tahl had established based on safety more than space. The six present now were quick to answer his call.
“Jeran,” Tahl began, “you're on guard duty, since you know the code to my office door. The door is not to be opened unless your life depends on it. Hadren, I want maps of every known trade route across the Westkings, prioritized by the amount of use they receive. Danella, pull names for every importer you can find in the books.”
The thieves nodded and dispersed, while the others tensed, awaiting command.
“Chata and Minn, you two set up a rotation schedule to have two fighters in here at all times to play backup to Jeran. Perton, pull contacts. I need someone in the palace and someone at every dock.”
“Aye, sir,” Perton said, flicking a salute from his brow. The others scurried away.
“Nia,” Tahl said, “you're with me.”
She bounced on her toes beside him. “What are we doing?”
“The most fun thing of all.” He forced a smile. “Research.”
Chapter 6
The winding alleys were less fun than the rooftops, but they were safer during the day. Tahl paused at a corner to rub his eyes. They'd started to burn, reminding him of how little rest he'd gotten curled up in his office chair. When he finally had a chance to collapse into bed, he suspected he'd sleep like the dead.
“Your mark is still there,” Nia said as she crept to his side. She'd inched ahead some time ago, less
of her own volition and more because Tahl suggested their mission presented a useful opportunity for her to practice. Her stealth skills had come a long way, but she wasn't the sneaking sort of thief like he was. She had sticky fingers and impressive sleight of hand, which worked well in conjunction with her day job. Nia was always able to coax a few extra coins from a drunk's pocket, or spirit away some of the winnings when she helped a gambler scrape his pile of silver pims into a cup.
Tahl rubbed his eyes again and squinted against the morning light. “Is it?” He'd been back by the academy a dozen times since his petty act of vandalism, but he admitted he had never really looked. Sure enough, the emblem he'd adopted—the hooked lines and oval that resembled a hood and leering eye, a symbol Nia had designed—still adorned the front of the building.
It wasn't exactly a surprise. He'd blasted the sooty marks into the stone with his Gift and exhausted himself in the process. The mages had eliminated the black marks, but a pale outline of the symbol remained where the stone had been etched away.
Odd, Tahl thought, to see his mark emblazoned in black and then scrubbed away to leave it light. Something about the difference made the back of his neck prickle.
“I guess not even the academy has the power to undo it.” He rubbed his neck and willed the discomfort to subside. He turned to share instructions for their impending infiltration and found Nia staring at him with a subtle frown. Tahl blinked. “What?”
“You never say much about the academy.” Nia's eyes darted toward the building. “You told me they put you out and said you couldn't learn. But you can make your smoke, and those little lights. I can't imagine that's all they've taught you.”
He snorted. “The fact they kicked me out should tell you everything you need to know. As far as they're concerned, I may as well not be Gifted at all. Come on.” He slipped out of the alley and strolled across the plaza with his hands in his pockets, gazing up at the building's front. Staring didn't seem to be unusual. A handful of the people crossing the plaza as they went about their work watched the place, either studying Tahl's handiwork or puzzling over the existence of the mages themselves.
Nia's curiosity wasn't unusual, either. The mages didn't welcome outsiders. Those who were not Gifted were shunned—as were those who weren't Gifted enough. Tahl had sometimes wondered what their benchmark for proficiency was and how far short he'd fallen. Then he reminded himself it didn't matter. Study only offered control over the power one had been given. No amount of study could expand the reach of one's Gift.
He was weak. He'd been born weak, and short of divine intervention, the depth of his magic would not change.
They circled to the back of the academy by a narrow access road Tahl suspected was only ever used for delivery of supplies and for sneaking in through the back door. The latter, somewhat amusingly, was precisely what he intended to do. It wasn't unusual for students to sneak in and out, and while they always acted as if it was some close-guarded secret, every student he'd crossed paths with had known the kitchen door was often unlocked.
“What are we hoping to find here?” Nia asked. She did not whisper, but she kept her voice so low he almost didn't hear.
“Information.” Tahl peered into the stately yard behind the academy. There were people present, but that was not unusual. The medicinal garden out back required a lot of attention, and those Gifted with healing often rose early to tend the plants. “I learned a few things, but not enough, apparently. I was under the impression Oria—the founder Oria—was the end of the mage queen line.”
A small wrinkle appeared between Nia's brows. “What does that have to do with this job?”
“When it has to do with your potential employer, it has everything to do with the job.” Tahl drew back as a student emerged from the back of the academy's main building and meandered into the garden. After she was gone, he motioned Nia forward. “I'll explain more when we get into the library. This way.”
Together, they tip-toed across cobblestones with thick veins of velvety moss between them. The garden behind the academy was quiet, peaceful, and despite the hint of tension that crept between Tahl's shoulder blades, a sense of calm settled over his mind. He'd never been fond of the gardens when he'd been in the academy, had never spent much time outdoors. He'd always preferred the basements, where students challenged each other to games of petty thievery and pranks. Perhaps he'd missed another calling. A houseplant, he decided. Once we're finished with this, I'll get a houseplant.
Nia hung close at his back and for the first time since their expedition had begun, Tahl couldn't hear her footsteps. Good. That was progress. He slid the kitchen door open and crept inside.
Despite the stealth, there was no chance they wouldn't be noticed. Nia froze just inside the door. The kitchen beyond was filled with workers, Giftless men and women who scrubbed pots and baked bread. The aroma reminded Tahl he hadn't had a proper meal yet, either. Later, he promised himself.
Though a handful of people paused to squint at him, Tahl waved Nia in and continued to sneak, ignoring the workers around them. The attitude was normal among mages and it only took a moment for the watchers to roll their eyes and return to their jobs.
Nia hurried to follow him, though she cast worried glances toward the kitchen staff. Her reaction wasn't unusual for an outsider either, something he'd counted on to get them through the door. To anyone in the kitchen, Tahl would simply appear to be a student sneaking a girl to his room. That wasn't unusual either, he thought with a hint of chagrin. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to assume he had an interest in Niada, of all people, but he wasn't above using such an assumption to his advantage, disgusting as he found the idea of romance with a girl who could have been his sister.
He beckoned her into the hall and she raced after him, her eyes wide.
“Everyone saw us,” she whispered.
“They saw what they wanted to see,” Tahl whispered back. “Not us.”
She blinked at him, clearly not understanding what he meant. He waved a hand to dismiss the subject. He could explain later. Right now, they had a goal.
Tahl straightened his spine and strode onward. Though most mages hailed from noble families, many had become nobles because they were mages in the first place. Every student who walked the halls had a hint of swagger in their step. Tahl wasn't one to swagger, exactly, but he did channel confidence, walking with his head up and his jaw set with determination.
By the time they reached the end of the hall, Nia had picked up on the changes in his behavior and mimicked them. Tahl grinned. From the lofty way she held herself, he might have sworn she was one of them, too.
“The library is upstairs,” Tahl said, less mindful of his volume as he rounded the stone banister of a grand staircase and began to climb. Mages did not need to whisper, as long as they weren't doing anything suspicious. Visiting a library in a school was the farthest thing from suspicious Tahl could imagine. “Hopefully they'll have what we need.”
Nia's eyes roamed the fine carpets and expensive paintings as they ventured through the halls. “I can tell Orrad's mages have an appreciation for the finer things in life.” She kept her voice low, but she'd added a hint of an accent. Western, he thought, envisioning her as a young woman from beyond the mountains that ridged the center of the continent. A good disguise, and something he could work with. She didn't have to be a lover, which was good, given how repulsive the notion was. She could be a relative come to visit, who wanted to see the school where her brother—or maybe cousin, he'd have to decide—studied.
“Shouldn't we? Aside from the royal family, we're the highest-ranking nobility the city has.”
Nia sniffed. “Well, some of you are higher-ranking than others.”
A hint of a smirk curled the corners of his mouth. Other members of the royal family—cousins, nieces, and nephews of Emperor Atoras—had attended the academy during Tahl's stay, and many nobles had their own ties to the throne. Yet she was right, and she didn't even know
it. Even amongst themselves, the mages had a pecking order, and it didn't often correlate to how strong in their Gift they were.
“Perhaps,” he agreed, allowing just a hint of mystery into his tone.
Mages roamed the upper floors, filtering between their classes and quarters. Tahl's skin itched around that much magic and he fought the compulsion to scratch. Everyone described the presence of magic a little differently, though most agreed it was something of a tingle. For Tahl, it felt more like the pins-and-needles sensation of a limb gone to sleep, uncomfortable and distracting.
His own Gift offered a hint of protection now. The mages—none he recognized, fortunately—cast him sideways glances, but disregarded him just as quickly. They could assume he was a new student for all he cared. It wasn't as if he was going to stay.
He led Nia to the far end of the hall and through a door, into a large library crammed with so many shelves there was scarcely room to walk. Nia studied the books and a hint of hesitance broke through her comfortable facade. Tahl had spent more time tutoring her since the new guild's formation, but she'd started from a disadvantage and was slow to catch up. She had become a competent reader in most departments, but the stiff academic language in history books still posed a challenge.
“I'll help,” he offered quietly as he delved between the stacks, motioning for her to follow. “We're looking for a specific book, but I don't remember who wrote it.”
“Do you know what it's called?” Nia asked in a whisper.
“If I remember right, it's Pre-Empirical Colonies and Cultures, but I might be wrong on that. It's been a few years.” Tahl allowed himself a rueful smile.
She snorted. “They make it sound like it was a long time ago. Atoras is only the fourth emperor.”
Tahl made a soft sound of agreement. “He took the throne the year I was born. The empire was hardly a hundred years old when that happened.”
“I guess a hundred years is a long time.”
He shook his head. “Not to mages.” He trailed his fingers across the books. “Mages live a lot longer than other people. Magic extends their lives. To a mage, especially an angry mage who feels her bloodline has been wronged, a hundred years isn't that long.”
