Her eyebrows furrowed. It hadn’t been a hot day, and yet the wind had suddenly picked up, and another flash of light broke the dark night sky.
“Where is my sister?” Avalon asked quietly.
Narra looked away from the sky and back at the pirate. “The palace. The religious zealots took her in a steamwagon directly to the princess at the castle doors.”
Avalon’s eyes widened in surprise. “What would the princess want with my sister?”
Narra shrugged. She really didn’t know.
Avalon bit her lip, and stared at the alley floor, clearly deep in thought. After several long minutes, Narra shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t know what to do or say to Avalon, but after a long day, her body was sore and tired. She should really return to her apartment for the night and get some rest before picking up her mission of vengeance in the morning. She only had six days until the thieves were executed, and she’d already wasted the entire day with Avalon.
“What do you think I should do?” Avalon asked. “I don’t know your country well, but they can’t just keep my sister against her will… can they?”
“They can.” Narra sighed. “Marina is the soon-to-be empress. She can do whatever she wants.” Her fists clenched as a spark of anger licked her heart once more.
“How can I get her back?”
“I don’t know.”
Avalon swiped a hand through her curls and shook her head. “This damn place. I wish I’d never returned.”
Narra knew what it felt like to curse this damned city. “You’ll find a way to get her back.”
“Will you help me?” Avalon took Narra’s hand.
Her fingers were warm and rough with callouses, surprising Narra into not pulling away.
“Help you?” she reiterated stupidly .
“Yes.” Avalon squeezed her hand. “Please. I don’t know this city well. You’re from here. You know how to get around the law, and you have skills I don’t.”
Narra gently tugged her hand free. “I can’t help you.” She had too much to do on her own. Her thieves had to come first.
“Please , Rheka. I can pay you, whatever you want.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t about money.”
“Then what? I’ll do whatever, help you in whatever way I can. But I can’t get my sister back alone.”
Narra met Avalon’s desperate gaze. What help would Avalon be to Narra’s cause? Would the pirate kill for her? Go to battle for her?
Narra was alone in this. She was alone in trying to get her thieves back, in her quest to take Marina down, and in her desire to find her uncle. Everything she did, she did by herself. What would it be like to have a partner? They both wanted something in that palace. Avalon wanted her sister. Narra wanted the Thieves Guild. Could they do it together?
“You’d really do anything?” Narra asked tentatively.
Avalon’s gaze flashed with unease, but after a moment’s hesitation, she squared her jaw and nodded. “Anything.”
“Then maybe we can help each other.” Narra turned to face the pirate fully. “Marina took the Thieves Guild, and I want them back.”
“What?” Avalon gasped.
Narra smiled ruefully. “It’s true. She’s holding them in the palace dungeons. Everything we both want is inside that castle.”
Avalon’s eyes lit with understanding. “So we can work together to get what we want.”
“Exactly.”
Avalon was quick to agree, her eyes darkening, and her determination set in the hardening of her jaw. She held a hand out for Narra, and tilted her chin to the sky. Another flash of lightning illuminated the tight curls around Avalon’s gorgeous face. “It’s a deal then.”
Narra took her hand, and shook it. “It’s a deal.”
T he floorboards creaked beneath Narra’s weight as she ascended to the third floor of her apartment building. She sighed and shot a half-hearted glare at the stairs. Usually she could avoid the old, creaky boards in need of fixing, but today she was tired. So tired. Her limbs ached and her mind swam with a long day of flying through town and staking out the hospital.
Though it had been a physically tiring day, it was her brain that felt the true pangs of exhaustion. She’d nearly gotten herself killed by Asher, and then she’d seen Marina for the first time in days. Both of them held different parts of her in their hands. It was almost as if they’d torn bits of her heart out of her chest, and lorded them over her.
She sneered at the gruesome image before pushing it away.
Narra reached the vault-like door to her apartment and made quick work of the locks before slipping inside and flicking the thick handle to seal it. She threw the locks back into place, and turned to face the darkness of the living room.
No light remained inside. The lamp in the kitchen must have run out of oil. She sighed. Just her luck.
Narra unclipped her cloak and tossed it over the back of where she was sure the couch was, then proceeded to the kitchen where she groped around the cupboards for a spare lamp and matches.
Once sparks finally flashed through the dark, a small flame caught on the wick of the oil lamp, and she turned up the bronze dial on the side until the entire kitchen was bathed in warm light.
As she expected, the light dangling from the ceiling was empty. A problem for tomorrow.
Taking the cold metal handle of the lamp, Narra left the kitchen, only to stop as soon as she stepped into the hall.
The soft squeak of a floorboard met her ears. Narra’s eyebrows furrowed, and she froze in place, straining her ears to listen. Creak . There it was again. Her blood ran cold at the realization that someone was inside her apartment.
How was that even possible? Only Narra and her father had the keys, and her father was dead.
Was she hallucinating again?
Her heart raced with possibilities. Since she’d killed the emperor, who at the time she’d thought was her father’s ghost, she hadn’t seen or heard from her father’s ghost. It was as if killing him had finally set her free.
She didn’t want the hallucinations back. She didn’t want to think herself crazy for hearing his voice. He was gone, and she was safe in her loneliness.
Another creak had her springing into the hall, hand on her short sword, and lamp thrust out toward the shadows.
A woman appeared in the doorway of her father’s room. She leaned on the doorframe, a smirk on her wide lips, and mischief flashing in her dark gaze. With bronze skin, silky dark hair, and deep brown eyes, she was Rovan-born through and through.
“You certainly come home late,” she purred.
Narra took a tentative step back, confusion spreading cold through her chest. What the hell was this? Who was this? And how had she gotten inside?
She parted her lips to speak when the woman shook her head, amusement clear on her face. Loose curls fell from under her black hood. Though she was cloaked like Narra typically was, the fabric was pushed back over her shoulders to reveal tight black pants, a brown leather corset, and at least two dozen weapons, all similarly placed to Narra’s.
“Who are you?” Narra asked, equal parts curious and angry to find this stranger in the one place no one was supposed to know about.
“Ria,” the woman said. She quirked a thick eyebrow, and her smile revealed dimpled cheeks. “My mistress doesn’t like copycats, Narra Rheka.”
Narra startled. Her eyes flew wide. “How do you know my name?”
Only a few of the Thief Commanders knew her first name besides Erik and her uncle. They’d never reveal it to anyone for fear of her violent hand.
“I know many things,” Ria said. She twirled a thin black dagger in her fingers; one Narra hadn’t realized she was holding. Ria leaned away from the doorframe and stepped into the hallway.
Narra’s mind raced to catch up with what she was hearing. Her heart pounded so hard, it was difficult to concentrate. “What do you mean your mistress doesn’t like copycats?”
Ria grinned, flashing
her teeth. “You’ve been making a big mess of the empire’s soldiers as of late. The papers are calling you Death’s Hand, so of course Lady Death would take notice.”
“Lady Death?” Narra balked. “As in, Ashra?”
Ria tilted her head back and laughed. It was a husky, mocking sound that curled Narra’s toes and made her nostrils flare in irritation. “Who else?”
This didn’t make any sense. This woman had to be mad.
“Ashra approves of your methods, but she isn’t one to stand by while you take credit under her name.” Ria’s amusement faded and her gaze hardened.
“I haven’t taken credit,” Narra argued.
“If Rova thinks the Daughters of Ashra are at work here, then for all intents and purposes, you are taking credit under my mistress’s name.” Ria clucked her tongue in a tsking sound. “She doesn’t like that one bit.”
Narra steeled herself against taking a step back. She wanted to flee, to get some distance between them, but the only way out of the apartment was through a window or the door. The door was sealed like the vault it emulated, and it’d take too long to open. The windows she might be able to break through if she had enough momentum behind her.
“You’re thinking of running away, aren’t you?” Ria frowned. “I haven’t even delivered My Lady’s message yet.”
“A message?” From Ashra herself? Narra doubted very much that the Goddess of the Underworld had anything to do with Ria, or wanted anything from Narra, but if Ria just wanted to deliver a message and leave, why not let her?
“Yes.” Ria smiled, her amusement returning. She took a few steps closer until the orange light of the lamp warmed her face. The shadows gave her a sinister look, and Narra had to once again resist taking a step back.
“Go ahead then,” Narra said when Ria didn’t continue.
Ria inspected her face for a long moment before she nodded. “My Lady would like me to invite you to join her Daughters. We understand you have a mission to get your thieves back from the princess.” Narra opened her mouth to ask how she knew that, but Ria held up a hand to silence her. “We have ways of knowing.”
“Fine,” Narra grumbled.
“My Lady will assist you, as will the rest of us, in your quest. Lady Death doesn’t provide her aid to many, and she considers this a special offer. If you choose to join us, the Daughters of Ashra will be at your disposal until your quest is complete.” When Ria finished, she scanned Narra’s face.
It all sounded too good to be true. Join the ancient cult and have the help of many to get her thieves back. But what did they get out of it? Another member? And why would a god take interest in her anyway ?
Narra’s fists clenched in frustration. She didn’t understand, and she didn’t like feeling stupid. “What do you get out of this?”
Ria tilted her head. “We get you , of course.”
She sighed. “Never mind. I’ll have to think about it.” She wasn’t about to make a life altering decision right this moment.
“That’s not all, my dear.”
Narra looked up.
“To join the Daughters, you must prove yourself worthy to face Ashra. Publicly display your love for our queen, and you may join us. We will help you, of course, if you do. But… should you choose not to join us, you will die.”
Fire lanced through her chest before she could stop it. She had a dagger in her hand in seconds and went to stab the woman to the hilt, but Narra froze, the familiar prick of metal against her throat.
Ria smirked as she pressed the dagger closer. “You anger easily.”
Narra’s nostrils flared. Fury, like a firestorm inside of her, burned through all of her logic. Her breathing came heavily. She so desperately wanted to move, but if she did, she’d be killed immediately.
“That is My Lady’s proposition. If you join us, we will help you, but if you should choose to reject Ashra’s benevolence, you will die. She will not have copycats spreading fear in her name.” Ria’s dark gaze grew hard. She held Narra’s eyes until the thief nodded in understanding.
Her fire cooled slightly, and Ria stepped back, sheathing her dagger. Narra trembled from head to toe, not from cold, or fear, but from rage at the choices this woman was trying to thrust upon her. No one threatened a Thief Commander—not even Lady Death herself.
“Once you make your decision, remember you must publicly display your endorsement. We’ll find you once you do.” Ria smiled, and slowly stepped away. She melted into the shadows of Quinn’s room, and by the time Narra followed, Ria was gone.
“What in Srah’s name was that?” Narra whispered. Her heart slowed as she inspected the room for any trace of the assassin, but there was none.
At the back of the room, however, a panel of wood was left ajar. Narra’s eyebrows furrowed as she crossed the untouched space of her father’s room. For a man who was drunk ninety percent of the time, his quarters were surprisingly tidy.
She pushed the loose panelling away, revealing an entire room hidden behind the wall.
“What?” Her breath hissed between her teeth as she stepped inside, thrusting her lamp out to chase the darkness away. Warm light created dancing shadows over a desk, a wooden chair, and a long, narrow table occupying the room no bigger than a walk-in closet. Papers were strewn over everything, and a few felt boxes were piled on the long table next to another door.
Narra stepped over the scattered papers on the floor and opened the foreign door. Down an extremely narrow flight of steps was another exit, which stood slightly ajar. A whisper of cold air shot up the stairwell and brushed back the hair on her shoulders.
Her father had hidden this from her. Another entrance to their home, and he’d never once deigned to tell her of it. What if someone else had broken in? Someone with something besides a message to deliver?
Narra growled as she slammed the door shut.
She turned to inspect the small space, and her anger softened slightly. Maybe her father hadn’t been the drunk she’d always thought he was. She wasn’t sure which was better, having a drunk lowlife for a father, or a thieving Guild Master. Either way, he’d made it his mission to torture her into becoming the perfect thief.
She placed her lamp on the edge of the desk and picked up a small stack of contracts. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at the two lines along the bottom where a thief signed to accept a contract.
Dozens upon dozens of contracts were signed QR: Quinn Reiner. He’d actually taken contracts from the Guild. He’d never even delivered them to the Commanders, as was his duty as Guild Master.
Her fingers ground into the pages, wrinkling the paper. Somehow this was worse than being a drunk. This was willful sabotage of the one thing she held dear .
Narra clenched her teeth and took a seat. She leafed through dozens of pages, separating contracts into two piles: the stolen ones and contracts not accepted.
After thirty minutes, she’d only gotten through what was on the desk. There was at least a hundred contracts he’d taken. A hundred . This went far beyond skimming here and there. He’d stolen from them all.
In a fit of anger, Narra knocked the piles onto the floor. She slammed her fist on the desk, the wooden legs trembling violently from the force of the blow. This was so frustrating. She’d known so little about her own father, even though she lived with the man. It just went to show how bad she was at sensing lies from others. She’d been fooled by not only Marina, but by her own father time and time again.
Narra ran her hands through her hair, squeezing the roots before releasing the long waves. She stood, bumping her boot on something under the table. She paused, and fished it out. It was a shoebox, no larger than one meant for dress shoes. She sighed. When was the last time her father wore anything remotely resembling dress shoes? She couldn’t remember.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she set it on the desk before prying open the lid. Her heart dropped and her eyes widened at the photo lying on top of a mound of papers. A black and white
photograph of her father, uncle, and mother, laughing and drinking in Alden’s bar, lay amongst a few other pictures; one of her parents together, one of Narra as a baby, and another of Alden and Quinn in an arm wrestling match.
Her eyes prickled painfully, burning with sudden tears. She stroked her thumb across the image of her mother. She was so beautiful, with smooth skin, thick lips, and a long messy braid slung over her shoulder. She had a beauty mark beneath her left eye and freckles on her nose. She smiled carelessly, her arms around the shoulders of Alden and Quinn. Her father, who’s hair wasn’t yet silver in this picture, grinned at Khlara like she was the sun and stars, while Alden made a goofy face at the camera .
When had her family ever been this perfect? She’d never seen her father’s face lit up like that. Even Alden’s grin was somehow different.
Narra startled as hot tears hit the back of her hand. She knew when they’d been this happy. Before Narra had ever been born.
The picture fluttered back into the box, and Narra put the lid back on. She didn’t want to look at it anymore. All of their happiness had been wiped away the moment Narra killed her mother to enter the world. No wonder her father had always hated her.
She looked exactly like Khlara Rheka.
W arm morning light streamed through a crack in the curtains the next day, slowly awakening Narra to the sound of a trolley squealing by. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the soft cotton blanket up over her head. She didn’t want to embrace the day yet. It felt like just moments ago she’d finally given in to sleep.
After Ria had left, and she’d discovered her father’s hidden belongings, Narra had spent hours pouring over old documents before she finally forced herself to bed. Only sleep didn’t greet her like she had expected. Instead, thoughts of her plans, and the supposed Daughters of Ashra, filled her mind.
In truth, the Daughters could help her in her mission. They could spread her terror far and wide, killing dozens, nay, hundreds of soldiers. Civil unrest would grow in days, and the country would revolt long before her thieves were due to be hung. To force Marina’s compliance, all she had to do was join the Daughters, and continue to kill until a new rebellion arose.
Clockwork Thief Box Set Page 33
