Child of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 1)

by Andy Peloquin

  The man rounded on the older boy. “You waited too long to call me, Denber.” His dark eyes flashed, his thin lips pressing into a frown.

  “She was sleeping and looked so exhausted that—”

  “Excuses! You know better than that, young Hawk.”

  Denber hung his head. “Yes, Journeyman Tyman.”

  “Good.” Journeyman Tyman nodded and raised a bushy eyebrow. “I trust you’ll be a bit hastier next time?”

  “Yes, Journeyman.”

  With a nod, Journeyman Tyman turned to Seven. “Rest, child. I know it hurts, but drink a bit of this.” He pressed her back on the bed with surprising strength from such lean hands and fingers, and produced a small flask from a pouch at his side. “It will help with the pain.”

  She took the unstoppered flask and grimaced at the noxious odor of its contents.

  Tyman wagged a slim finger at her. “Ignore the smell. Drink it down.”

  Denber eyed the bottle. “What’s in it?”

  “Ever the curious one, aren’t we? Let’s see…” Tyman scratched his chin. “A bit of devil’s claw, some birch leaf, willow bark, and holy basil. That, and a few other ingredients of my own creation.”

  Seven gulped down the foul brew, coughing at the bitter taste.

  Journeyman Tyman took the flask from her. “Rest now, if you can. The pain should fade in a few minutes and the more you sleep, the faster your body will heal.”

  She swallowed her whimpers and nodded. “Yes, Journeyman.”

  “A quick learner, this one.” He climbed to his feet. “I’ll return in a week or two to check on you. The splint stays on, no matter what. Understand?”

  Seven nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you, Journeyman.” Denber extended his hand and Tyman shook it.

  “Of course, Denber. Glad to be of service. You will, of course, remember me next time you run across a bottle of that Nyslian wine I am fond of?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Journeyman Tyman smiled and clapped Denber on the shoulder. “I’m off.” He turned back to her. “The splint does not come off.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With a nod, Tyman strode from the room.

  When the door clicked shut, Denber turned to her. “You heard him, Seven. Get some rest. The others will be back in a few minutes.”

  “Back?” For the first time, Seven noticed that the room stood empty, save for her and Denber.

  “At dinner. Where I should be. If Tyman hadn’t been so damned hard to find…” He shrugged and stood. “I’ll bring you something when I return.”

  Seven nodded. She winced at the throbbing ache in her finger. Damn, this hurts!

  Denber eyed the injury. “It’ll heal. I saw it before Tyman put the splint on. It was broken, but I’ve seen worse. You’re in good hands with Tyman. He’s one of the best House Scorpion has. He even trained at the Sanctuary, from what I’ve heard.”

  “He was a priest of the Bright Lady?”

  “Well, I don’t know about a priest. But I haven’t heard all the details. Anyone who does know isn’t going to tell an apprentice.”

  Seven smiled. “Thank you. For getting him.”

  “Of course. We at House Hawk have to look out for one another. After all, there are so few of us. It takes a certain sort of fool to do what we do. Now get some rest.”

  Seven closed her eyes as the door creaked shut behind Denber. True to his word, Journeyman Tyman’s potion worked. The throbbing in her finger diminished to a dull ache. She tried to rest, but sleep evaded her. She was content to lie there with her eyes closed and her body relaxed. The atmosphere in House Hawk contrasted sharply with life under Master Velvet. She felt no fear or apprehension of what lay ahead, only excitement.

  I am a Hawk, whatever that means. She couldn’t wait to find out.

  She opened her eyes at the sound of the creaking door. Willem and Werrin slipped into the room, along with three other boys she didn’t know.

  Willem stopped when he saw her. “Oh, you’re awake.” His face fell. “We were trying to be quiet—”

  Werrin shoved him and laughed. “You couldn’t sneak through an empty field on a moonless night, Lem.” He sat on the edge of Seven’s bed, careful of her finger. “How’s it doing?”

  “It hurts, but Journeyman Tyman says it will heal.”

  “Tyman?” Willem’s eyebrows rose. “Denber must have called in a big chit to bring him here.”

  “He said something about wine…”

  “Ah, of course. Tyman does love his Nyslian reds. Nearly got pinched last time I had to filch a bottle from—”

  “Enough of your prattling, Lem.” Werrin smacked the back of Willem’s head. “I’m sure Prynn, Bert, and Jarl here want to meet the fresh meat.” He snickered, and Willem rolled his eyes.

  A dark-haired boy with a sharp chin and full lips stepped forward. “My name’s Bertimastus, but everyone calls me Bert.”

  She smiled. “Nice to meet you. I’m Seven.”

  Prynn had sandy hair, vivid blue eyes, and pale skin dotted with freckles. “Pleased to meet you, Seven.”

  The one named Jarl grunted a greeting. He crossed thick arms across a broad chest and stared at her from beneath bushy brows. A patchy blond beard covered his square jaw and wide cheeks.

  Werrin shoved Willem and raised an eyebrow at his “twin”.

  Willem cleared his throat. “Right, well. We’ve been talking, together with Denber, and we think we’ve come up with a good name for you.”

  “A name?”

  “We can’t just call you ‘Seven’ all the time. Whenever a new apprentice is accepted into a House, they are given a name. Master Hawk and the Journeymen don’t get involved, and Conn is too wise and sage-like to give a damn what happens to us apprentices outside of training and chores. That means we have the honor of giving you a name.”

  “I-I…” She faltered. What could she say?

  “You ready to hear it?” Willem’s eyes widened in excitement.

  Seven nodded.

  “We want to call you ‘Ilanna’. What do you think?”

  Seven tried it out. “Ilanna. Ilanna.” A smile broadened her face. “I like it! What does it mean?”

  Willem shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t much care, either. It’s just a name, but I think it suits you nicely.”

  She grinned. “It does.”

  At that moment, Denber entered.

  “Denber, what do you think of my new name?”

  “Ilanna? It was my idea. Are these idiots trying to take credit for it?”

  Seven laughed. “No, they just told me about it. But I love it!”

  “Good. Here.” He held out a large roll, with a fragrant sausage stuffed in the middle. “As promised.”

  “Thank you!” She took the bread and bit into it. The sausage was spicy and rich, the bread fresh. Much better than the food she had eaten as a tyro.

  Conn stepped into the room. He took in the boys clustered around Seven’s bed and his eyebrows furrowed. “Enough, lads. Off to bed with you.”

  Willem turned to Werrin and shook his head. “Lads, he calls us?”

  “And to think that he’s only a few years older than—”

  “Enough!” Conn’s face showed no hint of laughter. “Training starts bright and early.”

  Seven devoured the sausage roll as her fellow Hawks climbed into their bunks. Denber and Conn left the room together, the older boy putting out the lantern before shutting the door. She lay back on the bed, her appetite satiated. The glow of happiness drowned out the pain in her finger.

  She had a House. She had a name.

  I am Ilanna of House Hawk.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Ilanna.” A hand shook Seven’s shoulder. “Get up, Ilanna.”

  She didn’t recognize the voice or the name. Groaning, she opened her eyes. Instead of Master Velvet’s unshaven face and feline grin, the boy she’d met yesterday—Denber, right?—smiled down at her. “Come on, Ilann
a. You don’t want to miss breakfast, not on your first day.”

  The realization struck her. He’s talking about me. Memories of the previous day flooded her. The tests. Being chosen to House Hawk. She rolled to her feet. Too late, she remembered her injury in the tests. Agony flashed through her splinted finger. Her head felt light and the world whirled.

  Denber caught her. “Tyman’s draught did its work, I see. You’re harder to wake than Werrin, and that’s saying something.” He thrust his chin toward the next bunk.

  She followed his gaze. Willem jumped on Werrin’s bed, and Prynn shouted into the sleeping boy’s ear. Werrin rolled over and snuggled deeper into his blankets, a sleepy smile on his face. She studied her unfamiliar surroundings. The windowless room was larger than the chamber she’d shared with the other tyros, but with half as many beds. Despite the bare walls, low ceiling, and hard-packed dirt floor, the room lacked the menacing confinement of her quarters while under Master Velvet.

  Her eyes flashed to the open door and she hesitated. Could she really come and go as she pleased? After the last six months, so much freedom came as a shock. Master Velvet had only unlocked the door to herd them into the Menagerie. The rest of the time, it had remained bolted.

  Denber helped her stand and released her. “How does it feel?”

  She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Not as bad as last night.” Whatever Tyman had given her numbed the pain to a dull ache. “Remind me to thank him next time I see him.”

  “See him?” Denber laughed. “There are only two times you’ll ever see Tyman outside of the Burrow: when he’s treating you and when you’re making good on your debt. He rarely leaves his books and potions, or so Garley says.”

  “Garley?”

  “A friend in House Scorpion.”

  The name sounded familiar. The man with the black armband. “House Scorpion? That’s where Three went!”

  Denber raised an eyebrow. “He was the little guy next to you, right?”

  “Yes. I wonder how he’s doing over there.”

  “Is he a clever, bookish sort?”

  “I don’t know. We never had much chance to read with Master Velvet.”

  Denber smiled. “True. Master Velvet was never one to give tyros a chance to breathe. Everything is about work with him.” He grimaced, as if at a bad memory.

  “But Three solved the riddle faster than the rest of us! That means he’s smart, right?”

  Denber shrugged and nodded. “Sounds about right. He wouldn’t have been accepted into House Scorpion otherwise. Tell you what, I’ll swing by later today and have a chat with Garley. See if he can keep an eye on your little friend.”

  A wave of emotion washed over her. After the mistreatment she’d suffered at the hands of Master Velvet, Twelve, and their training as tyros, his small kindness overwhelmed her. She laid her uninjured hand on his arm and smiled. “Thank you, Denber.”

  He returned her smile with warmth. “Of course.”

  She held up her injured finger. “No, not just for this. For everything.” A tear slipped down her cheek and a lump rose in her throat. She wiped moisture from her eyes. “Since I can remember, Three has been the only one to show me any kindness. Now there’s you and the twins and Prynn and…” She swallowed hard. “Just, thank you.”

  Denber shrugged. “Of course, Ilanna. We apprentices have to stick together, right?” A grin broadened his face. “Now, come on. Jarl has already left for breakfast and if we don’t hurry, there won’t be anything to eat!”

  * * *

  Seven—no, my name is Ilanna now—ran her eyes over the common room. The small chamber was furnished with a pair of tables and benches. Tawny banners emblazoned with Hawks hung on the walls, adding a touch of color to the sparse stone chamber. A second door stood opposite the one she’d entered. The crackle of a burning fire and the smell of baking bread wafted through the open door. A man wearing the robes of House Hawk and a brown apron bustled from the room with a stack of soiled trenchers.

  A longer table ran along one side of the room, laden with a simple breakfast: oat porridge with dried fruits, eggs, sausages, and fresh bread. A bowl of too-green pears sat untouched next to a near-empty pot of stewed apples.

  Ilanna filled her bowl with porridge and took a seat across from Denber. The older apprentice grinned but said nothing, his mouth full of bread. Jarl sat at the next table, his massive boots on the bench. When Prynn tried to sit, Jarl glared and refused to move his feet. With a huff, Prynn joined Denber and Ilanna’s table. A minute later, a half-asleep Bert stumbled into the room, served himself, and slumped beside Jarl. His eyes refused to stay open. More than once, Jarl had to nudge Bert to keep him from planting his face in his porridge.

  Ilanna poked at the food, but couldn’t bring herself to eat more than a few bites. The excitement churning in her stomach stole her appetite. She kept glancing to the tunnel leading into the Aerie. The network of ropes, ladders, beams, and cables called to her.

  I can’t wait to start!

  Conn strode into the room. “Morning, all.”

  A few half-hearted greetings echoed in the common room. Conn elbowed Werrin out of the way and piled his plate high with sausages, eggs, and bread. Plopping himself across from Ilanna, he shoveled food into his mouth.

  Denber rolled his eyes. “Come on, Conn. Have some manners in front of—”

  “The girl? Please, Denber, you think we’re going to change just because of her? Things are going to stay exactly the same, no matter who she is.” He turned his glare on Ilanna. “Until you’ve earned your place here, you’re just one more apprentice, got it?”

  Ilanna nodded and mumbled something incoherent.

  Conn pushed back his plate and stood. “Listen up, you lot!” The younger Hawks turned to face him. “Ilanna receives no special considerations just because she’s a girl. If I catch any of you treating her any different than the others, I’ll send him to Master Grubber for a month. Got it?”

  The common room remained silent, but all the Hawks—even Denber—nodded.

  “Good, now get on with it. I’ve only got a few hours before I have to run some errands for Journeyman Ellick. Werrin and Willem, you’ll work with Denber today. Prynn, Bert, you’re with Jarl.” He turned to stare at Ilanna. “As for you, apprentice, you’re with me.”

  Denber looked as if he wanted to protest, but held his peace. Conn crossed his arms and stared at her, impatient. Ilanna swallowed the last few bites of her bland porridge, deposited it with the other dirty trenchers, and followed Conn from the room.

  She had to run to keep up with the older boy’s long-legged strides. “What are we going to do?”

  “You can’t start training on the Perch quite yet, not until the splint comes off. That means you’ll have plenty of time to get accustomed to your…other duties.”

  Ilanna wanted to ask what Conn had in mind, but something told her she’d regret it. She hustled after him in silence.

  Conn led her past the door to her bunkroom, down a short passage, and to another door. He pushed it open. The room was twice the size of hers, with curtains dividing it into sections. Clothes littered the floor, beds, and chairs. Boots and shoes lay strewn around the room. A musty, sweaty reek filled the windowless space, and Ilanna resisted the urge to hold her nose.

  “This is the room for the older apprentices—those who are nearly Journeymen.” The pride in Conn’s voice matched the look in his eyes. “This is where you will spend your first day.”

  “Doing what?” The question popped out before she realized it.

  Conn raised a haughty eyebrow. “Why, cleaning it, of course! Consider it your first lesson as an apprentice of House Hawk.”

  What lesson could I possibly learn here? This time, she managed to hold in her retort.

  “Werrin and Willem did the scut work before, but now it’s all yours. You’ll do it until the next tyro joins the House and so on. It’s the way things work around here.” Conn held up a bucket and scrub brush. “
I trust you know your way around these?”

  Ilanna stared up at the older boy, her face burning with anger. Without a word, she took the bucket. “Where can I find water?”

  Conn’s smile faltered. Had he expected her to react? Had she passed some test? The imperious smile returned. “At the back of the room, you’ll find a small door and a well. You know what to do.”

  Ilanna nodded and pushed through the first set of curtains.

  “Oh, and once the water in the bucket is thoroughly filthy, I can show you where the privy is. You can dump it there, as it’s the next one of your duties.”

  Ilanna’s jaw clenched. “Yes, sir.”

  Conn nodded. “Good. I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be back in an hour to check on you.”

  A moment later, the door clanged shut behind him, leaving Ilanna alone with the bucket, scrub brush, and her boiling anger.

  * * *

  “Ilanna? I hope this room is spotless, else I’ll—”

  Conn’s jaw dropped as he took in his room. Ilanna had spent the last hour folding clothes, tucking in blankets and sheets, beating rugs, and scrubbing floors. The room smelled less like a mushroom farm than it had an hour before.

  Ilanna stood and dropped the scrub brush into the bucket. “Do you think I could find some rosemary and mint in the kitchen? It will give the room a nice smell.” She didn’t know how she knew that, she just did.

  “Y-Y…” Conn swallowed. “Yes, that should be fine. I’m sure you’ll f-find what you need.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Ilanna picked up the bucket and hurried from the room, pushing past a stunned Conn. She gritted her teeth against the pain in her hand, back, and knees. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

  Her anger had burned hot for the first few minutes after the haughty Hawk left her alone. She’d beaten the rugs with far more force than necessary. But when she cooled down, she’d realized Conn’s arrogance wasn’t only for her benefit. The boy held the rest of the apprentices—those he considered beneath him—in scorn. She refused to take his disdain personally.