Clockwork Thief Box Set

by Katherine Bogle

  ASHRA’S WRATH ONLY THE BEGINNING.

  She raised an eyebrow as she opened the glass hatch on the front and plucked the paper from inside. She unfolded it to splay the front page of the Rova Chronicle between her hands.

  It seemed her killings had continued, and were getting worse, just as she’d asked Ria to do. The death toll was rising, reaching a few hundred now. Though she thought she should feel guilty, she didn’t. Instead, she felt strangely empty inside.

  Narra flipped to the next page, quickly scanning articles about tax hikes and the hangings in Varek Square before she came to an opinion piece about Ashra, and whether Marina’s soon-to-be coronation was to blame for the murders.

  Crime had grown in the past when an emperor was killed suddenly, though it hadn’t happened since the Century of Blood. Even so, the writer didn’t compare the death of the emperor, or the crime rate increase, to one of those emperors. Instead, he drew parallels between Emperor Malek’s murder and Willa the Wilted’s death after her peaceful two-year reign. After the young woman’s sudden demise, her brother Barrett took the throne. Rebel factions popped up out of nowhere, public executions became a daily occurrence, a nightly curfew was enforced, and there were even stirrings of war on the border between Rova and Kiznaiver.

  “Hm.” Narra inclined her head. She wondered if something similar would happen now. Though Emperor Malek hadn’t been beloved like Willa, a sudden change in emperorship had historically always been tough on the empire.

  She finished the article and went on to the next—another opinion piece on whether Srah had abandoned the empire for their sins. It had a blatant message at the end inviting citizens to the Church of Srah, and Narra quickly skipped over it.

  The last article she decided to scan was about Elena and Raeleen’s trial. It didn’t seem to be going well for either princess, and Narra wondered how long it’d be before the trial wrapped up, and the women were executed.

  Cold air brushed the hair across the nape of her neck, and Narra trembled. Though she wasn’t quite as cold as before, she could feel exhaustion creeping up on her fast.

  Shaking her head, Narra folded the paper and slid it back into the confines of the metal box before continuing on her way.

  She’d been grateful for the distraction, but with the words of the Rova Chronicle reporters fading, she couldn’t help but feel the unease settle inside her once again. Whatever the Daughters of Ashra had done to her, she could feel it like a living thing sitting in the pit of her stomach.

  Would there be a way to undo the ritual? She wasn’t sure what exactly had been done to her, but it made her nauseous to think about the blood sweeping across her skin and the pull in her chest as Lady Death kissed her.

  Narra ground her teeth and pushed the thoughts from her head. Her body was heavy, and her mind slow. Tomorrow she’d think about all of this and what it meant. But for now, she had to get home and sleep.

  The loud pound of a fist on metal ripped Narra from deep sleep. Her heart raced, and her brain was slow to start up. She blinked to clear the fog, and groaned when another bang echoed through the apartment .

  She glanced at her bedroom door, surprised to find it open. Had she really been that tired? She tried to recall the previous night as she rolled onto her side. Her variety of daggers clinked, and a couple hilts dug into her skin.

  Yes, she’d really been that exhausted.

  Narra sighed and stood as the banging continued. She glanced at the top of her dresser, grateful she’d had enough strength to at least remove her revolver and short sword from her belt before passing out.

  She walked from her room to the kitchen, finding her boots in a heap by the door, and her cloak flung across the back of a chair.

  Her eyebrows furrowed as alertness began to creep past her exhaustion. Someone was banging on her door. Her vault-like, do-not-mess-with-me door. No one but her family and Erik knew where she lived.

  Her heart leapt. Could it be? Had Alden returned?

  Narra quickly closed the space between the kitchen and the door, throwing the lever on the back and releasing the locking mechanisms before she yanked the heavy metal door open.

  “Avalon!” Narra stepped back, confused and shocked to find the pirate captain at her door. How had she found Narra? No one knew about this place.

  “You’re alive!” Avalon held a hand to her chest, taking a deep breath as she leaned against the doorframe. “Thank the Sea Goddess!”

  “What are you doing here?” Narra asked. Her confusion started to fade, replaced with suspicion. “How did you find me?”

  Avalon smiled sheepishly. “Apologies, Rheka. I followed you one night after our meeting. I was just curious to see where you lived, and I wanted to make sure I knew where to find you in case something went wrong.”

  The pirate scanned Narra up and down.

  “I’m fine,” Narra said flatly.

  Avalon raised an eyebrow. “Did you sleep in that? ”

  Narra sighed and turned on her heels. She left the door open for Avalon to follow her in. “Yes.”

  The thief made her way back to the kitchen where she grabbed her boots and cloak. Her skin still felt strange, but not grimy from lack of care like she expected. Just strange.

  “That can’t be comfortable,” Avalon said. The door to the apartment closed and Avalon trailed Narra to the kitchen. She stopped to look around, inspecting the living room, sparsely furnished, with the coffee table still collapsed in the corner. “Crazy party, huh?”

  Narra followed her gaze before rolling her eyes. “No.”

  Avalon grinned. “You can be honest with me. I like to have fun every now and then too.”

  Narra shot her a glare, to which Avalon simply laughed. “What are you doing here?”

  Avalon’s smile fell. “Well, it had been more than twenty-four hours since we made contact, and I was worried something had gone wrong like you said it might.”

  Narra left the kitchen and walked to her bedroom. “Everything is fine.”

  “That’s good, but things are coming down to the wire for your thieves, and I wanted to make sure you were still alive.”

  Narra stopped in the doorway to her bedroom and sighed. She turned back to face Avalon, who hovered between the kitchen and the hallway, seeming unsure what to do with herself. “Give me a moment, and I’ll be back.”

  Avalon nodded, and Narra shut her door behind her. She made quick work of stripping, tossing her clothes and weapons onto her rumpled sheets. She took a cloth from her dresser and dipped it in the washbasin she’d filled the day before.

  She brushed the cold water across her collarbone, and shivered as drops ran across her skin. It was far cooler than she’d realized. Taking a few minutes to scrub herself, Narra ground the washcloth across her skin until she had practically torn off the top layer. Still, her skin prickled with strange unfamiliarity. She didn’t feel right, not physically or mentally, but she had to get herself back in the game .

  Her heart raced as she thought of Avalon’s words. Things were coming down to the wire for her thieves. Their execution day was coming up fast, and she was out of good ideas. Though her killings seemed to have the desired effect, they weren’t working quickly enough. The poor hadn’t risen up to fight back against higher taxes, and soldiers weren’t revolting against the crown for failing to keep them safe.

  Narra sighed and braced her hands on top of her dresser. She couldn’t keep depending on other people to do things for her. It was time she took matters into her own hands.

  Steeling herself, Narra tossed away her cloth and pulled on a fresh set of clothes before returning her many weapons to their rightful places. Once she had her boots laced and her cloak snapped to her shoulders, she returned to the hall to find Avalon peeking through the living room curtains.

  “Get away from those,” Narra snapped.

  Avalon jerked back, looking half-apologetic and half-annoyed for being caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

&
nbsp; “Apologies,” she mumbled, and stepped away from the curtains.

  “I know we had a plan,” Narra began, “but we don’t have time to rally a rebellion anymore. The Daughters couldn’t find a second birth certificate, so I’m going after Marina’s.”

  Avalon blanched, her eyes flying wide. “What? You can’t!”

  “I have to. If we don’t get that certificate, we have nothing .”

  “There has to be another way. Security must be three times what it used to be. You’ll never get in!” Avalon protested. Her eyes burned with frustration, and her fists balled at her sides.

  “I already know a way in,” Narra argued. She had the old thief tunnel she’d used last time. She’d never mentioned it to Marina, or anyone else, so it was still useable. “I’ll get the certificate, and we’ll force Marina to step down before the execution.”

  “Rheka,” Avalon sighed. “The execution is tomorrow . If this doesn’t work, who else is going to save your Guild? Because no matter how much I hate having to rely on another person, I can’t do this without you. If you die on this foolish errand, my sister will be trapped forever.”

  Narra worked her jaw. She knew all of this. She knew it was their last chance, and that if somehow she failed, everything she’d done—every man she’d killed—would have all been for nothing. But Narra had to believe in herself and her abilities. They were all she had left.

  “I’m sorry, Avalon. I’m going.” Narra brushed past Avalon, heading to the door.

  Avalon spun and grabbed her elbow, yanking her back. “Rheka, please!”

  Narra met her gaze. Desperation welled in the dark depths of Avalon’s eyes. She bet if the curtains were open she’d see a dark sky cracking with thunder.

  “I’ll save them all.” Narra laid her hand on top of Avalon’s. “The Thieves and your sister.”

  Avalon regarded her skeptically. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, but didn’t fall. Slowly, she nodded. “Do not die.”

  Narra smiled, remembering when the pirate had commanded her last. Though it should anger her to have another person attempt to tell her what to do, for some reason Avalon doing it warmed her heart.

  “I won’t,” Narra said softly.

  Avalon held her gaze for one last long moment before nodding brusquely and letting her hand fall from Narra’s arm. “Good luck.”

  Narra’s lips twitched in a tiny smile, and then it was gone, and so was she. She raced out the door on her way to the last place she ever wanted to go again. The Imperial Rova Palace.

  N arra crept through the dark passageway to the belly of the palace, her heart racing and her palms slick with sweat. Damp lay heavy on her clothes and skin, making her hair cling to her face. She sighed and brushed it away, trying to flick the long strands over her shoulder.

  She was still confused as to how no blood remained in her hair after the ritual in the cellar. Had the women bathed her after? Her skin crawled. She didn’t like the thought of someone bathing her, especially while she was unconsciousness.

  Shaking her head, Narra dispelled her thoughts and focused on the dim light filtering through a crack ahead. She picked up her pace, racing across the worn dirt ground until she reached a narrow wooden staircase. She brandished her lantern, thrusting it out to illuminate the trapdoor in the ceiling.

  She waited and listened. It was long after dinnertime, but there still might be servants around at this time of night. She had to be careful not to alert the guard if she wanted to make it all the way to Marina’s quarters. She couldn’t think of a better place the princess could hide the birth certificate.

  Narra held her breath and strained her ears, but she heard nothing from the trapdoor. Exhaling loudly, Narra inched up the stairs and propped the door open slightly. A hearth burned in the corner, illuminating a table and chairs, as well as the carpet atop the trapdoor, but she didn’t see or hear anyone.

  She set her lantern on the steps before slipping through the crack. She closed the door gently behind her, and returned the rug to its rightful place.

  Again, she stopped to listen.

  Nothing.

  A smile tugged at her lips. Just as easy as it had been before. No one knew the secret entrance the Thieves once took to meet with Emperor Zaneth. She doubted even his son had known, not that it’d do him much good now, being dead and all.

  Narra crept quietly from the room and found the servants’ staircase she’d used last time. She froze on the first step. The smell of copper ghosted across her nose. It wasn’t real. Not now. But not long ago she’d carried a body down these steps alongside Marina, the smell of blood thick in the air.

  She shook her head to push the memory away, but the scent continued to cling to her nose. It was so faint she was sure it wasn’t real, only her memory playing tricks on her.

  You don’t have time for this , she chastised herself.

  Her heart raced as she leapt up the steps, determined to reach Marina’s quarters unseen. Though she’d never been inside the princess’ rooms before, she had been in Elena and Raeleen’s. So at least she she knew where the royal family slept.

  The last time Narra was inside the palace, the place was like a ghost town. Other than the royals, she had run into only a few guards. It’d made Marina and hers escape with the emperor’s dead body possible. Would her luck continue this time? Or had the absence of guards last time been Marina’s doing?

  Her eyebrows furrowed. She’d never considered the possibility until now.

  The clink of armor up ahead had her plastering herself to the inside wall of the stairwell. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she fought to take quiet, shallow breaths.

  The deep timber of men’s voices passed the top of the steps. She was still a few feet away from the hall, and well shrouded in shadows. She couldn’t make out their words, but she’d recognize the sound of armor rustling anywhere.

  After a long moment, the voices and clinking grew fainter, and Narra could breathe easier. She continued up the steps, circling high until she reached the third floor where the royal suites were.

  Voices drifted from the corridor, and the familiar clink echoed again. Damn it. Maybe Marina had had something to do with the guards’ absence on that fateful night.

  When the sounds didn’t pass as they had before, Narra crept up the steps, clinging to the darkness. Soft, warm light filtered in from the corridor, stealing some of her darkness. Thankfully, the servants’ stairwell was so narrow and twisting that she could hide in the shadow of the alcove without being seen from the hall.

  She pressed her back against the wall, sweat dripping down her spine, and risked a glance out.

  The hall was just as she remembered it. A long, red carpet occupied the center of it with dark wood tables pressed against the wall, intricately painted vases atop them. Several large portraits of emperors were hung over the tables and vases, and small chandeliers dangled from the ceiling every few feet.

  Her nostrils flared as she eyed a particular painting of Emperor Malek. His cold gaze bore into her, as if accusing her of his demise. And though she had thrown the dagger that killed him, she wasn’t entirely responsible. His own daughter had manipulated Narra into the task, and she hoped his ghost knew that.

  Inspecting the rest of the hall, Narra spotted two guards at a door further down. She wasn’t sure whose suite it was, but someone must be inside if the door was being guarded. She froze, remembering what Jin had told her not long ago. Caroline was being kept in the royal wing .

  She quickly glanced down the other end. No one stood at Elena and Raeleen’s door. In fact, only one other door was guarded at all. The door wasn’t quite as ornately carved as the other one on the left end of the hall, but it was still elegant. That had to be where Caroline was being kept.

  She bit her lip. Maybe, if things worked in her favor, she could grab Caroline on her way out.

  Narra leaned back into the safety of darkness, her mind racing. She couldn’t do anything with guards at the doors,
not unless she could gain access to the crawlspace between floors. Maybe then she could get through the hallway and find the proper rooms.

  A door creaked in the hall to her left, and Narra’s heart leapt. She stepped further into the shadows and waited.

  The soft click of heels met her ears, only increasing her heart rate further.

  “Stein, Baldar, would you kindly escort me to my study?” a soft female voice implored.

  Narra’s breath hitched. Marina. So the door on the left end was hers.

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” a deep voice answered.

  Narra clenched her fists. Every inch of her wanted to lean over and peek out into the hall. Why did she want to get a look at the princess? Marina had betrayed her. Yet, the sound of her voice still sent butterflies through Narra’s stomach.

  She hated it. She hated how her own body betrayed her.

  “Excellent,” Marina said. “Let’s go.”

  A door clicked shut, and then the click of heels drew closer before being muffled by the carpet. Narra could make out the swish of skirts, and the soft thump of footsteps, interrupted by the clink of armor. Her cheeks heated, and she bit her lip hard to keep from doing anything she might regret.

  When the footsteps finally disappeared, only then did Narra breathe. Her lungs ached, and her throat constricted as fire began to burn through her. How dare Marina go about her business when so much was happening? People were dying. The Thieves were suffering in the dungeons .

  Narra ground her teeth, and took a few moments to collect herself.

  Another door clicked, and some words were exchanged before more footsteps sounded in the hallway. They disappeared quickly, and Narra forced herself to get it together.

  She was there for a reason. She had to find Asher’s birth certificate.

  Peering into the hall once more, Narra checked for any sign of guards. At the very end of the hall, she could scarcely make out the spears of two stationed on either side of the corridor. They were fifteen feet or so away with their backs to her, which would make it easy for her to sneak to Marina’s suite, pick the lock, and begin her hunt.