Clockwork Thief Box Set

by Katherine Bogle

  Once the information was delivered to Marina, she’d be done. She’d leave the princess with whatever she needed, repaying her debt in the process.

  She paused.

  But what had happened to the case Taron protected? Her eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t turn. She couldn’t look at her uncle for fear she might lose her temper and truly do something horrible.

  “What happened to the score of a lifetime?” she asked. The silly turn of phrase tumbled from her lips. She’d only heard it from the boys in the Guild who first made her realize her father was missing and something had gone wrong. Yet, that had to be what it was. Whatever the score had been, it cost him his life.

  She hoped it was worth it.

  “I sold it,” Alden said, his voice strained.

  “To whom?”

  “For ransom to the emperor.”

  She tilted her head to the ceiling, a humorless laugh bubbling from her chest. “To the emperor… the man who contracted the Guild in the first place.”

  Narra shook her head and descended the stairs.

  Wind coursed through her hair, free in the breeze.

  Betrayal stabbed at her heart, and lent speed to her flight. Her boots hit the shingled roof of a storefront. How could her uncle have done this? She leapt, her grappling hook flying from her fist. Even though he’d confessed, it still seemed impossible. She shook her head. If only she could propel her feelings from her chest, maybe then she’d be able to embrace the calm of her swing.

  She hit the retract button. Her hips jerked forward, her entire body yanked through the air above the high rooftops of the Shopping District.

  Dark shingled roofing passed by, grazing her toes with each impact before she launched back into the air. When the Revolution had rescued her, they’d taken her to a safe house or base of sorts. She had to hope Marina would be nearby, or her people would still be around.

  Above the storefronts rose a tall stone apartment building. Shingles fell from the roof and the worn oak windowsills grew dingy under layers of grime. Narra quirked an eyebrow at the decaying structure. It had to be nearly as aged as Old Town.

  Her swing brought her to the top of a neighboring grocery store. She retracted her long cord and shimmied down the worn shingles to the edge of the roof. The trash-strewn alley below was familiar. Yes, this was the place.

  Narra swung down from the roof to the fire escape on the third floor. Her boots clanged loudly against the rusted metal. She froze and listened. Had she been heard?

  Though the wind howled with a coming storm, trolleys and steamwagons were still audible on the nearby street even at this hour. Patrolmen wandered by the opening, but failed to glance up in the shadowed alley.

  She sighed with relief before mounting the black painted ladder. The iron chilled her bare hands. She shivered and slid to the cobblestone below. Rats skittered and squeaked from her path. Spoiled beans and cabbage squished beneath her boots. She wrinkled her nose.

  Disgusting.

  The backdoor stood in a small alcove off the alley, locked tight. Would the revolutionaries be up at this hour? Surely not. But it was worth a try.

  Narra rapped the door three times with her knuckles. She stepped back and waited. Through the thick wooden door came heavy footfalls.

  Several moments passed before a slat in the door opened at eye level. Dark brown eyes narrowed at her.

  “State yer’ business,” the man growled, his voice deep and husky, most likely from tobacco abuse.

  “I’m here to see the Princess,” she said. She smoothed her face, keeping a neutral expression. Though her heart hammered and she wanted nothing more than to push inside, deliver her news and flee, she had to stay calm.

  “At this hour?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “It’s important.”

  The man rolled his eyes. “Your name?”

  Did they have some sort of list to check? Narra resisted the urge to frown. “Rheka.” The man leaned away, his head disappearing into darkness.

  “Fine,” he mumbled through the door.

  Heavy locks clicked and creaked. The door opened inward, revealing a tall, sturdy Rovan man with wide shoulders and long hair. He motioned her in. “I can’t leave my post. Her majesty is in the second floor conference room.”

  Narra nodded. She hadn’t a clue where it was, but she’d fine it. Stepping passed the guard, her nostrils flared at the scent of his musky cologne.

  “Don’t be long,” he added. The door shut and latched loudly behind her.

  She hurried to the stairs she’d come down on her previous visit. It was the only way she knew to the second floor. The worn oak creaked beneath her feet, most likely alerting the entire building to her presence. She glared at the boards until she reached the second floor. Dim lamplight lit a long corridor on either side.

  Which way to the princess?

  Narra glanced at each direction. The walls were equally featureless with doors off both sides. Only to her left, three doors down, a wooden slab stood slightly ajar and a warm glow emanated from within.

  She took a deep breath and approached it. All she needed to do was inform Marina the case, whatever it was, had already been sent to her father’s hands. She’d do it, her debt would be repaid, and she’d return home. Nerves turned her stomach. Would Marina ask her many questions about how she’d found this information? She’d gone through pirates, hallucinatory drugs, and a large betrayal to get this information for the princess. She hoped Marina would leave it at that.

  Narra reached the door. Candles dappled the large wooden room. The back wall, made of large dark stones like the exterior of the complex, held a giant map of the Rovan Empire. At the center of the space, a long dark-oak table occupied the majority of the room, save for stacks of discarded chairs lining the wall.

  Marina stood before the table, her hands splayed across the mound of parchment littering the surface. Dark brown curls tumbled down her back past her hidden shoulder blades. Dark red velvet hugged her curves, intricately woven gold patterns lacing her hips and back. Her skirts fell in waves at her feet, spreading out in a sea of gold and red.

  Her heartbeat sped as she traced the lines of Marina’s small waist. Heat rose to her cheeks. She froze in the doorway .

  Every time she laid her eyes on this woman, her palms sweat and her composed thoughts flew out the window. How could the princess have such an effect on her? Her presence drove Narra mad.

  Again, she had to wonder why that was. Though she vehemently denied being attracted to Asher, she couldn’t forget his hands on her in that booth at the Dollhouse. But in Marina’s presence, a similar feeling stirred in her belly, and she had no idea what any of it meant.

  Narra shook her head. She couldn’t think about this right now. She had to deliver the news and go. Too much had come up that night, and spending time with Marina wouldn’t help any of it. She had to think about her future, the coming days and weeks. Should she give her uncle up to the Guild? No, she couldn’t do that. But she had to do something. She needed to speak with Erik, as soon as possible.

  Narra stepped inside. The floor creaked beneath her feet.

  Marina spun, her curls bouncing. She turned wide eyes on Narra, her fingers flying for a dagger at her belt.

  Purple bruises swarmed Marina’s left eye and cheek, spreading from her bronze face down to her exposed throat. Narra couldn’t stop the gasp that passed her lips. Her eyes went wide and she flew to Marina’s side.

  Before she knew what she was doing, her fingers were on Marina’s warm cheek, brushing the violent mark.

  “Who has done this to you?” Fire consumed her crazed heartbeat, driving out every thought of her uncle, her father, and the score of a lifetime.

  “Rheka,” Marina whispered. Tears welled in her hazel depths. Her beautiful lips, broken down the middle by a long gash, trembled, and her eyebrows pulled together. She dropped her gaze, her breaths coming quickly. The princess lowered her hand from her dagger.

  “What ha
ppened?” Narra repeated.

  Marina parted her lips to speak once, twice, and then flattened them together. Tears fell down her face, leaving long wet tracks over her pink cheeks. Her long fingers brushed Narra’s waist, and suddenly Marina leaned against her .

  The princess embraced her, every part of her warm body against Narra’s cold. The thief froze, stunned into silence. What could have happened to Marina? She should be under constant guard, though the fact they’d met in secret once already proved she could slip her keepers. Dread settled in her stomach. She wrapped her arms around the princess, while Marina’s sobs robbed the night of its quiet.

  Marina shook from her head to her toes. All of her weight pressed against Narra, but she held the princess aloft. Silky hair passed between her fingers as she stroked Marina’s long brown curls. What could she say to soothe the princess when she hadn’t a clue what had happened?

  While her heart lurched at the sight of Marina’s tears, her anger was growing. Whoever had done this to Marina would pay. Maybe with their life.

  Long moments passed. Marina’s fists wrapped around her cloak, and water soaked her shirt. When her trembling finally ceased, she leaned away from Narra’s chest and wiped her eyes. Red blotches occupied her once rosy cheeks.

  Narra’s lips pressed into a firm line. She needed Marina to tell her what was going on. “Princess, please tell me what’s happened.”

  Marina’s hazel eyes finally met hers. Fear widened her gaze. “He’ll kill me if I tell.” She shook her head.

  “I’ll kill him if he tries.” The ice in her tone startled Narra. She didn’t know Marina well and couldn’t claim to know anything of her life. Yet, she didn’t hesitate in offering to assassinate the princess’s attacker.

  “I couldn’t endanger you in such a way.”

  Narra’s gaze softened. “You needn’t worry about my safety, Your Majesty.”

  “Call me Marina,” she said.

  “Marina,” Narra corrected. “Now tell me who’s done this to you, so you may be avenged.”

  Her hazel gaze darted away. Narra’s chest tightened.

  “Tell me,” Narra insisted.

  “It was…” Marina’s voice trembled as she spoke. “My cousin. He-he …” A muffled sob cut off her words. The princess took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “I came to tell him of his father being hospitalized. He lost control and… and…”

  Her warm breath brushed Narra’s cheeks as she jammed her eyes shut.

  “He raped me.”

  M arina’s breath caught in her throat, and wavered as she took deep gasping breaths. Tears spilled down her bruised cheeks.

  Narra froze. Her fire turned to ice, chilling her fingers, even upon Marina’s warm flesh. What ? Though Asher had confessed his son’s misdeeds and murders, he hadn’t mentioned Ezriel was also a rapist. She worked her jaw back and forth. Her heart beat loudly in her ears.

  She stepped away from the princess. Wide eyes met Narra’s.

  “I’ll kill him.” Her voice was low, raspy. Narra’s fists shook at her sides.

  “Wait!” Marina gasped. Her fingers wrapped around Narra’s biceps, surprisingly strong for one so small and dainty. “You can’t. Please, Rheka.” Marina’s hands shook. “Please, protect me. I can’t be alone, or he’ll find me again.”

  Narra regarded Marina’s trembling lip and tear-stained cheeks. She was right. She had to protect her. If she left the princess alone and returned to find her beaten, or worse, she’d only have herself to blame.

  Narra nodded. “Of course, I’ll protect you.”

  Marina’s eyebrows smoothed out and her lips quirked. Though the smile didn’t reach her eyes, it warmed her pretty face. How someone could look so beautiful after such trauma seemed impossible. “Thank you, Rheka. I owe you my life.”

  “Narra,” she corrected. Her chest warmed, not with the flames of her rage, but with something else. Never before had she corrected someone in the use of her last name, but something about this woman made her want more. She wanted to tell Marina her first name. She wanted the princess to know her.

  Her cheeks warmed, embarrassed. When had she started feeling such things?

  “Narra.” Marina smiled. “Beautiful.”

  Narra cleared her throat and stepped from Marina’s desperate embrace. She couldn’t face her smile any more than she could her bruises. With Marina’s warmth gone, her fire returned. She had to get the princess to safety, and then she had a man to find and deal with. Though she’d only ever sought out a man to kill once before, she’d have no trouble with this murder. If Ezriel wanted to defile women and destroy the lives of many, he had no right to exist.

  Though he was Asher’s son, he wasn’t long for this world. Her heart clenched. Asher would hate her for this. He’d never forgive her, even if she’d done it to avenge Marina.

  Whether the general approved or not, Narra would end Ezriel’s life, even if it was the last thing she did in this world.

  The darkness of her uncle’s bar welcomed her home. Devoid of life, the two-story wooden structure would house the princess until her return. But first, she had guards to find and enlist.

  Her boots beat against the worn wood stairs as she descended into the dungeons of the Guild. Marina’s heels clacked behind her.

  Never before had someone outside the Guild entered the hallowed halls, yet she’d break every rule in the book to keep the woman behind her safe. Narra’s fists clenched as she reached the sewer tunnels leading to the Den. She was firm in her resolve. She had a plan, but she needed the Guild’s help. Surely they would understand the necessity of the situation.

  Narra glanced over her shoulder as they reached the cobblestone hall. Marina wrinkled her nose and watched the floor. It did smell awful before the Den. She couldn’t blame her.

  Torches lined the narrow corridor leading to the front room of the Guild’s hideout. Their flames flickered, casting shadows across the grungy brick.

  “Stay close to me,” she said, casting a second glance over her shoulder. She couldn’t guess the reactions of all the Guild members, but they wouldn’t be good. Narra had a plan, but she needed to get Marina to August first.

  Marina nodded her narrow chin and stepped closer to Narra’s heels as the sewers faded into the Den.

  Though it was early in the morning, Guild initiates ran from corridor to corridor. Older Guild members leaned against the walls, their dark gazes flickering up at her presence. She ignored their startled gazes and lengthened her pace. Marina scurried to catch up.

  She left the Den as quickly as possible, leaving a sea of whispers in her wake. The western hall led her to a tall wooden door. August was one of the only Guild members to live in the dark recesses of their hideout. While most were housed elsewhere, the old commander and engineer preferred to stay close by, ready in case any of the Guild factions needed him or his work.

  Narra rapped her knuckles against the door. The sound echoed hollow beyond the thin door.

  “Just a moment!” August called from within.

  A few moments later the door swung in, and a wild haired August appeared, gold-plated cane in hand. Beyond his wide frame, the largest set of rooms in the Guild spread out. Tables and shelves filled with gadgets lined the walls and littered the center of the space. Metal gears, bronze plating, screws, and knick-knacks were piled high on top of his main workstation.

  “Rheka,” he said. His eyebrows pulled together as he glanced over her shoulder. His mouth fell open, though no sound passed his lips. “ Is this who I think it is?” Worry and confusion battled in his wide gaze.

  “May we come in?” she asked.

  August stared for another few seconds before nodding slowly. He stepped back inside, motioning them both in. “Of course,” he said.

  Narra ushered Marina inside before checking the corridor. No one followed, and the whispers from the Den had returned to normal chatter. She took a deep breath. At least she’d gotten through without much trouble thus far
.

  She closed the door behind her and stepped into the bright overhead light. Instead of oil lamps or lanterns, bright white bulbs shone down from a mess of metal slats and curves. She hadn’t a clue how August came up with these contraptions, but he’d created her grappling hooks long ago, and she was always grateful for his genius.

  “Now, would you mind telling me why you’ve brought—” August glanced at Marina before meeting her gaze. “—your friend to see me.”

  August took a seat on a high wooden stool behind his workstation, while Marina shifted awkwardly by a tall shelf of copper trinkets. She inspected the equipment while Narra turned to her fellow commander.

  “I need you and your Brains to protect her.” Narra’s lips flattened. August had to know she was serious. This wasn’t a joking matter and couldn’t be taken lightly. Marina needed the Guild’s protection until she could deal with Ezriel.

  The white-haired man blinked at her comically beneath his bushy eyebrows. Never before had she asked him, or any of the Guild Commanders for such a favor. If he agreed, she’d owe a new debt; one she wasn’t certain August would call upon, but all the same would remain.

  “Why?” he asked after a long hesitation.

  Narra bit her lip. How much could she tell him? August could be trusted, of that she was sure, but she didn’t want to air the princess’s business either .

  “There’s a man after her—someone her guards can’t protect her from,” Narra said. “That’s all I can say.”

  August looked between the two women. His gaze brushed her clenched fists before sliding to Marina’s bruised cheek.

  His jaw set and he nodded. “Of course. Whatever I can do to help.”

  Narra exhaled, relief relaxing her muscles. Thank Srah.

  “Thank you, August.”

  He simply nodded and stood, leaning heavily on his cane as he limped toward her. “Do you have anyone in mind for her guards?”

  Narra didn’t know his faction members well. She shook her head. “No. I trust you to choose the best. Have them keep her safe in my uncle’s bar. No one is around at this time of day, and I’ll be back before the bar crowd shows up.”