They likely had, which made her wonder if the staff had been left as a way to draw her back out. It was a good thing she didn’t have any intention of going back in the way she had the first time.
Instead, she crouched on a rooftop—a different one than she and Tray had sat on before he’d been snagged—and held the smooth handle of a crossbow. The bolt she had nocked had nearly two hundred feet of tightly woven Valun rope attached to the end, strong enough to hold both her and Tray were he here. Getting Valun rope might be about the only good thing Marin had done for her. As isolated as the city was, getting anything from the outside world was valuable.
Had Tray not gone missing, she wouldn’t have risked the crossbow and the rope. The highborns would view this as a weapon, but she needed a quick way of getting across the canal without her staff.
Sam took careful aim at the roof of the house she wanted to target. She’d get one good shot here. If she missed, she’d not only lose her Valun rope, but she’d lose the easiest way into the house. While she might be a good shot, the addition of the rope would present a different challenge.
She’d have to aim high. With the rope attached, the bolt would come down faster than it would otherwise. Too high, and she’d soar over the house. She didn’t want to hit anything on the other side, even if the rope was long enough to reach.
With one end looped around her ankle, she fired the crossbow.
The bolt soared across the canal. Rather than going too high—even though she’d aimed much higher than she thought she would need to—the bolt dropped. It sank into the side of the building, but probably about ten feet below the roofline.
Kyza!
She could cross, but reaching the roof would be difficult.
Of course she’d have to make it harder on herself. Sam secured the rope to a metal post on the roof, wrapping it tightly enough that it would hold her, but not so tightly that she couldn’t unwind it from the other side with a sharp jerk on the line. If it worked, she wouldn’t lose the rope. She’d lost enough lately.
Sam took a deep breath, wrapped her cloak around herself, and started across the rope going hand over hand. As she hung over the middle of the canal, the distant form of one of the barges moving toward her spurred her to move faster. It was a dark night, without much moonlight, and thick clouds prevented what light there was from peeking out for long, but she still didn’t want to get caught on a rope above the canal.
Hurrying forward, she moved steadily, not wanting to jostle the embedded bolt free. A light flickered in one of the windows of the highborn house, and Sam froze. Her hands twitched, and she could feel her grip begin to slip.
She started forward again, but moved too suddenly. The rope slipped from the other side, and she swung down, toward the canal.
Kyza!
Sam braced herself for impact. It didn’t hurt quite as much as she expected when she hit the wall. She bit back the grunt as she struck, hoping they hadn’t heard anything inside. If someone came out and looked to see what had struck the side of the building, there wasn’t anywhere she could go to hide.
When satisfied no one was coming out after her, she climbed up the rope. Her hand reached the crossbow bolt. She couldn’t go any higher here, not without trying… something.
There weren’t many times when she considered it a good thing she was so short and light, but this was one. She pulled herself up and hung from the crossbow bolt. Climbing carefully, she got her knees onto the thick bolt, and then—as carefully as she could—stood on it, balanced on the bolt.
Sam pulled the rope free from the bolt and wound it around her arm. Then she started up the face of the building, gripping tightly to the brick.
She moved slowly now, holding carefully, fearful she’d fall. If she fell from here, she doubted she’d have a chance to make it into the canal, and would likely end up dropping to the hard ground below. She was high enough that she wasn’t sure she’d escape without injury.
Her fingers ached, burning with the effort.
A little higher. She could see the lip of the roof. All she had to do was let go with one hand and reach for it, but if she mistimed the reach, she’d fall. It could be worse. She could end up in the canal with one of those eels again. She didn’t care what anyone else told her—they were big enough to eat a man.
Sam released her grip with one hand and reached for the lip of roof.
Her fingers scrambled for the edge, grabbing it, and then slipped off.
She started to fall.
As she did, she flailed her arms, almost as if she intended to fly. By chance, her cloak hooked on the crossbow bolt sticking out from the side of the building. It jerked, and she stopped falling. Sam held her breath, expecting her robe to rip and to fall the rest of the way, but the stout wood held, as did the unusual fabric.
She let out a shaky breath.
Maybe all that swearing at Kyza hadn’t made the gods turn a blind eye on her. Most of the time, she wanted them to turn away from what she did. Better that than have the gods know what she did, the way she snuck in and stole. This time, she was happy enough to take a little extra observation from the gods, especially if it kept her from falling.
She unhooked the crossbow from her belt and secured the rope to the end of another bolt. This one wasn’t quite as stout as the one she’d used to make the crossing in the first place. That one had been designed for things like this, whereas this one was only meant to go inside of someone, usually in some sort of messy way.
Sam took careful aim and loosed the bolt. Even from this close of a distance, it dropped more than she would have expected, sinking into the stone about a foot below the top. At least that was a distance she could reach by climbing.
Tugging on the rope to make certain it was secure enough for her to climb, she started up once she was satisfied she wasn’t going to fall. She couldn’t count on her cloak catching her again.
Sam was tired by the time she reached the roof.
When she pulled herself over the edge, she reached over and untied the rope, wrapping it around in a careful bundle in case she had to run away quickly. Better to be prepared now. When she pulled back over the edge, she noticed the door to the roof was open.
Kyza!
She should have been more careful. If she made it all the way here, only to get caught before she could even attempt to sneak in? There wouldn’t be another chance at this. Getting broken into twice meant that they would increase their security. At least, she would have.
She should have looked to see if there was anyone up here before she pulled herself up onto the roof. Sam pulled the cloak around her. The fabric protected her if the shadows were just right. It didn’t work in the middle of the day, but on a cloudy night like tonight, with barely any moonlight coming through the clouds, she might be able to hide within the cloak.
There wasn’t anyone out here.
Sam remained hidden for a moment, letting the cloak billow around her as she stared at the door leading back into the highborn house. All she needed was to find the secret to how they used the pages. That was all Bastan asked of her. That couldn’t be too hard, could it?
As she stepped through the open door and down the stairs, she tried to calm her mind, but found it difficult. If the highborns came across her, she would suffer more than jailing this time. Her punishment would be death. With Tray now missing, there wouldn’t be anyone to come for her. Bastan might mourn, but he wouldn’t feel all that bad about it. No… she couldn’t let herself get caught here.
The wooden stair groaned softly as she took her first step, almost as if the house itself worked against her.
She eased her weight onto the step, careful to make sure the step tolerated her. There was no other sound. The next step was better, and she stayed to the outside, hoping they were better supported there. As she neared the bottom, she paused again.
The library door stood closed. It was a strange sort of room to have on the upper level where Marin had promised a diffe
rent kind of wealth. She wished she’d brought the map, but then she doubted Marin had given her anything more than the basics.
Come to think of it, how had Marin known about this place?
Who had she met with to get the information about the location of this supposed valuable item?
Would anyone be in the library at this time of night? She hoped the answers she sought were here. Maybe even in one of the books. That was what Sam counted on. She put her ear to the door to listen, but didn’t hear anything, so she reached for the handle.
Locked from the inside, as it had been before.
She pulled out the pick set she carried with her and slowly worked on the lock, twisting it so the tumblers shifted. With a soft click, the lock opened.
Sam breathed out softly, remaining tensed where she was. The sound might be enough to draw attention to her. A minute passed. Another. No one came toward the door.
Feeling relaxed, she pushed open the door.
The room looked much like it had before.
She stepped in, pulling the door closed behind her, and looked at the shelves lining the walls stuffed with books. She had never seen this many books in one place. Were all highborn homes like this? The few she’d risked sneaking into hadn’t seemed the type to have a room such as this, but then she hadn’t risked going into all of the rooms, so it was possible that others were just like this. Most of the jobs she took involved merchants rather than highborns, so she didn’t break into homes like this all that often.
It was better for her that way. Less of a risk were she caught. Merchants would demand repayment, but there was rarely the risk of execution.
The table at the center of the room, where she’d first found the pages, now had a thick, leather-bound book resting open upon it.
Sam flipped the pages, and saw that they were blank. What a strange book.
As she studied it, she realized the pages were like the sheets she’d taken from the table the last time she’d come. But unlike those sheets, each of these pages bore a single mark in the corner. Sam leaned closer, trying to make it out.
Why would there be a book like this with all the pages unreadable? What purpose would it serve?
Did the other books here have similar pages?
Sam stared at the walls of books. What a strange idea.
She quickly flipped through the pages of the book again before returning it to the page it had been on. Now that she studied it, she noticed that this page was different. Rather than a single mark on the bottom corner, there was a second mark on the top corner.
Maybe that made it more valuable. Maybe there was some secret written here that she couldn’t yet read. She tore the page from the book and stuffed it into her boot before closing it again. At least she could study this page. Maybe she’d find the secret to writing on it that way.
On a whim, she stuffed the entire book into a pocket of her cloak.
The highborns already knew she’d broken into their house. What did it matter if she exposed herself even more?
When she reached the nearest shelf and pulled a book off, light blazed suddenly inside the room.
Sam froze.
She wasn’t alone.
The door that led to the stairs of the house had opened, and three men stood just inside, each much larger than any man she’d ever seen. They carried swords and crossbows, likely hired by the highborn who owned this house to protect whatever Marin had really been after. Sam glanced behind them, half expecting to see the highborns she’d overheard the first time she’d come, but saw only these brutes.
They all stared at her as she held the book in her hand. Sam smiled a guilty smile and darted toward the door leading back up the stairs to the roof.
She was too slow. Someone grabbed her in a tight grip from behind.
The person holding her searched her pockets, tossing the crossbow onto the floor so it went skittering away from her. She was jerked to the side and pressed against one of the shelves as they searched her more thoroughly. They found the book she’d taken.
Kyza!
“What do you want to do with her?” a rough voice asked.
“Take her downstairs. See what she knows.”
Sam didn’t see who answered, but there was a strength in the voice, and the way he spoke sent a cold chill through her.
What would the highborns do to her now that they found her with a weapon?
What would happen to Tray?
She’d promised herself that if she were ever caught, she’d remain strong. That she wouldn’t scream or cry or do anything like she’d seen others do when they’d been caught. She had promised herself that she would handle it calmly, mostly so she could keep her mind working to figure out a way toward freedom. Panic had a way of making one’s mind go in the wrong direction.
As much as she might have wanted to remain calm, she couldn’t.
Tears streamed from her eyes as they led her away.
5
Captured and Escape
Sam was left in a small, windowless room on the first floor. Light from the main hall beyond slipped in under the closed door, giving a soft glow along the floor. Her wrists were bound behind her, and they’d chosen to tie her legs, as well. Escaping from here wouldn’t be easy, if it was even possible.
The hard lump of a man who had brought her down to her new-found cell barely regarded her again after tying her to the chair. “Where did you get this book?” He held up the book Sam had found on the table, waving it at her.
Sam stared at it. Could the book be more important than the paper?
When she didn’t answer, he stepped toward her, his entire body imposing. “Were you the one who stole the paper from us?”
Sam’s mouth went dry. They knew what she’d done.
He glared at her a moment. “Perhaps you need a little longer to consider your answers. I have ways of making one of your kind answer.”
There was no doubting what he meant by her kind. Lowborn.
Turning away, he stood with his back to her, seemingly unconcerned about her presence. And why should he be concerned? Tied as she was, there wasn’t a thing she could do to escape.
Kyza!
How stupid had she been rushing in like this? She knew there was a risk coming here, and had done it anyway. When she’d been here before, she’d nearly been caught. They would have prepared for her return—and it seemed they were.
Sam steadied her breathing, trying to think through her options. Waiting for what might come next wasn’t one of them. The highborns would send her to prison, and seeing as how she carried a crossbow on her, even if she’d only used it to cross the canal, there wouldn’t be any way for her to justify having it. The punishment would be severe. Kyza knew they could simply execute her right now and claim they had to because she carried the crossbow on her.
She tried moving her wrists, thinking that she could loosen the bindings, but they didn’t budge, not that she expected them to. As she rubbed the ropes against the back of the chair, thinking maybe she could soften them a little, she stared at the man’s back.
He was bigger than most men, bigger even than Tray. The cut of his clothing seemed off, not nearly the same display of wealth that the highborns preferred, all flowing silks and ornate embroidery. It was leather, and cut to cling to his body almost too tightly. How would he even get into something like that?
There was something wrong here.
Sam couldn’t quite put her finger on what it might be. Maybe it was the fact that he barely looked at her, thought what did she expect her captor to do? Mostly it was the sheer size of the man.
She continued sawing the ropes along the back of the chair.
As she did, they began to ease, if only a little.
She pulled on them, working her hands until she could slip them out of the ropes. Skin ripped as she finally freed them, raw and burning from the friction of the rough rope, but at least she was free.
Her hands, at least.
That l
eft her legs.
Keeping an eye on the large man, Sam slowly reached into her boot and withdrew the slender blade her mother had left her long ago. It was something she always kept with her. Not to use as a weapon—with the consequences, Sam had no intention of using a knife as a weapon—but more for the various other ways she could use a blade like this.
Now with her hands free, she sawed at the ropes binding her legs until they fell away.
Now what?
She’d gotten free, but she would have to get past this massive brute of a man. There was no way she could overpower him, which meant she either surprised him, or she found a different way out. She glanced around the room. There was no other way out.
Kyza.
Through the brute. Somehow.
He started turning toward her, and she pushed herself upright in the chair, putting her hands behind her back to feign continued capture. Maybe if he believed she was still bound, he’d eventually leave her.
He had a broad face and deep-set brown eyes. A thin beard covered his chin, nothing like the style favored by the highborns. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as he studied her.
For a moment, she thought she might get away with hiding that she’d freed herself. His hand seemed to relax on the hilt of his sword, and he started turning away from her before catching himself.
The man turned quickly toward her.
Sam barely had time to react.
She jumped from the chair, flipping her legs in a spiraling kick that struck him in the chest. As she hit him, she twisted, pounding her fists into the sensitive part of his back where she’d get the kidneys.
He grunted, but didn’t fall.
She’d fought men larger than her before, but never one quite so big that even her kicks seemed to have no impact. He reached for her, and she dropped, rolling across the floor, kicking out as she did. All she needed was to sweep his feet out from under him, but to do that, she needed to catch him first. The man moved fast.
Wasting: The Book of Maladies Page 5
