Clockwork Thief Box Set

by Katherine Bogle

  Before she’d left the apartment that morning, Narra had gone over the plan one more time with Erik. He’d gone off at dawn to meet Asher and get entry to the kitchens where he’d work until the event that evening.

  Now all Narra needed to do was meet with Srah and hopefully get a disguise good enough to fool the next Empress of Rova.

  Narra stopped at the corner, her back against a large oak tree. She glanced out from behind it. Her breath fogged in front of her, and she quickly snapped her teeth shut. She listened for footsteps or other signs of Patrolmen or pedestrians, but saw none.

  Once she was sure the area was clear, she raced across the street and vaulted over the stone fence lining the property of the manor she was to meet Srah at.

  The cellar doors were already wide open, letting cool afternoon light spill inside. Narra took a deep breath to brace herself for the thick darkness and creepy atmosphere that always lingered in the cellar. She descended the stairs to the basement floor only to find gas lamps lighting the area, illuminating a desk covered in herbs and small vials of colorful liquid, and a full-length mirror with a lavish cloak draped over the top.

  “Oh good, you’re here on time,” Srah looked up from whatever she was mixing in a stone bowl.

  Srah appeared her usual sunny self with a wide smile and carefully pinned back curls. Only instead of a simple cloak and dress, today she wore a deep blue cloak that wrapped around her arms, lace clinging from elbow to wrist while still covering her from chest to toe. It was pinned together with a bright silver dragonfly pin at her collarbone, and its hood was large, and slightly pointed at the back with a lace veil to cover her face. The veil was pushed back at the moment, but it disturbed Narra how much it reminded her of the robes the Church of Srah female parishioners wore.

  “Good afternoon,” Narra said. She looked around the cellar once more, realizing for the first time that Ashra was nowhere to be found. Not even a stray wisp of smoke or inky shadow lurked on the floor.

  “The cellar looks quite different without my sister inside, doesn’t it?” Srah followed Narra’s gaze around the surprisingly bright cellar.

  “It does,” Narra agreed.

  “Ashra has always had a thing for theatrics. She doesn’t like to hide her magic, so it has a habit of spilling out at the seams… so to speak.” Srah chuckled to herself. She finished mixing the ingredients in the bowl and set it down on the only clear part of the desk.

  “What’s that?” Narra asked.

  Srah smiled. “A cloaking spell to disguise your face. I’ll tie your hair back so it’ll be hidden beneath your hood, but this spell will be enough to completely hide your features.”

  Narra raised her eyebrows in surprise. “How does it work?”

  “Tsk tsk. Traders secret.” Srah winked and then laughed to herself as she flitted across the room. She grabbed the cloak from atop the full-length mirror, and Narra realized it was identical to the one Srah wore .

  “So the Duchess didn’t have any problem with me coming along?” Narra asked.

  “Not at all,” Srah said. She stopped in front of Narra, looking ready to throw the cloak around her shoulders. “Hm.” She paused at Narra’s multitude of weapons. “You’re very prepared.”

  Narra glanced down at her belt. “I like to be.”

  Srah shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. We’ll have to make sure the cloak hides them all though. You might want to leave a few behind.”

  Narra’s chest tightened. She didn’t like the thought of leaving her weapons behind.

  Seeming oblivious to Narra’s distress, Srah removed Narra’s cloak and wrapped the fancy navy one around her shoulders before pinning it at her neck. “Lovely. Blue is a good color on you.”

  Narra’s cheeks heated. “Thank you.”

  Srah stepped back. She adjusted Narra’s cloak with a few swift tugs before circling around to Narra’s back. Her fingers brushed Narra’s hair.

  A shiver went down her spine, and Narra unintentionally stepped away.

  Srah blinked at her in surprise. “Apologies. You don’t like your hair to be touched?”

  Narra bit the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t that. Only Marina and Asher had ever touched her hair like that, making it feel intimate in nature. She cleared her throat. “It’s nothing. Apologies.”

  Srah inspected her face for a few moments before circling again. She carefully took Narra’s long hair in hand. She tugged gently, forming large parts to braid out of the way. Narra froze. The last time someone braided her hair had been the ceremony before Narra was sealed to Ashra.

  She ground her teeth as images of blood flashed before her eyes.

  “Relax,” Srah cooed softly. “Most girls like having their hair done.”

  Narra nodded slightly. A few moments later Srah stepped back. Narra’s head felt a bit heavier, and she reached back to touch the thick braid descending directly down her spine .

  “All done,” Srah said. “Take a look.”

  Srah motioned at the mirror, and Narra stepped over to it. She stood in front of it, turning her head from side to side to admire Srah’s work. It was the most perfect braid she’d ever seen, with not a hair out of place.

  “It’s lovely,” Narra said. Though she’d miss having her hair out and free, tonight called for necessity. She had to keep her hair hidden if Srah’s spell couldn’t hide its color.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Srah smiled, a genuine, rosy-cheeked grin. “I think we need to do something about your weapons, however.”

  Narra glanced down at herself, then looked in the mirror. The fabric bulged around the hilt of her short sword, and did nothing to hide her grappling hook. “Oh.”

  Srah smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, I know you must like your weapons if you wear so many. I’m sure Ashra wouldn’t mind if you left a few here.”

  Narra nodded stiffly. She sighed as she opened her cloak, brushing it back over her shoulders to reveal her well-decorated hips. She unclipped her sword sheath from her belt and leaned it against the wall next to the mirror. Next, she removed her gold revolver. She wouldn’t need it, and in case anything did happen to her she didn’t want to lose another one.

  She paused with her hand over her grappling hook. If she left it behind, she wouldn’t be able to fly from windows, or escape easily. Narra pulled her cloak back on straight and looked in the mirror. The hilt of her grappling hook didn’t bulge like the hilt of her sword had. In fact, as long as she kept her arms at her sides, or in front of her, there was no way to tell it was there.

  “That should do just fine,” Srah said.

  Narra sighed in relief. She really didn’t want to leave it behind.

  “Now for the spell.”

  Nerves prickled Narra’s skin. “Will it hurt?”

  Srah laughed. “Oh no. Not at all.”

  Thank Srah . Narra sighed in relief before she realized what she’d just thought. Thank Srah. The woman who stood before her. How utterly ridiculous her life had become.

  “All right, stand still. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Srah patted Narra’s arms, making sure she stayed frozen in place. Once she was satisfied that Narra wouldn’t go anywhere, Srah went over to the desk, collecting her bowl of unidentified substances. She returned to face Narra a moment later. Gone was the chipper handmaiden, and in her place stood the serious expression and intense gaze of a god.

  Srah narrowed her eyes in concentration as she dipped her fingers into the poultice. She closed her eyes, and began to murmur a chant in an unfamiliar language.

  Narra’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to pick out the dialect. Could it be from the Wells? She didn’t think so. But maybe the Wells had old languages she wasn’t familiar with.

  The violet poultice began to glow. Srah drew a circle in the air around Narra’s face with her index and middle fingers. Her words grew quicker and her voice louder until her eyes sprung open.

  Narra gasped as she gazed into two glowing blue orbs, not unlike the blue flames of
Ashra’s when she had done a spell. She fisted her hands at her sides, and did her best to keep still while Srah chanted, hair dancing in a wind that Narra couldn’t feel.

  The god stopped the circle at Narra’s forehead this time, and gently ran the poultice from the center of it, half way down the bridge of her nose.

  Narra’s breathing sped up with her racing heart. Her skin tingled and heated. She wondered if the poultice was glowing on her skin. Was it transforming and reshaping her face? Or was it a simple illusion cast over her existing features?

  Curiosity burned through her, but she mashed her lips together to keep from saying a word.

  Suddenly, Srah’s eyes stopped glowing and her chanting stopped. The god stepped back and smiled. She tilted her head to the side, admiring Narra’s face.

  “You look like a proper resident of the Wells,” Srah said. Srah took Narra’s elbow gently and guided her over to the mirror .

  Narra gasped as she looked upon the face of a stranger. Though her hair was still as orange as sunset, her skin was tan and her freckles gone. Her mouth was wider and her lips thicker. Her eyes were slightly hooded, and her brows were thick and dark. She still had sharp cheekbones, and a strong jaw, but the shape was narrower and her cheekbones higher.

  “Wow,” was all she could say. So this was magic.

  Narra reached up to touch her cheek. Would her skin still feel the same like this?

  Srah grabbed her wrist and tugged it back down. “No! You must not touch it. If any human skin comes into contact with your face or neck, the spell will shatter.”

  Narra’s eyes widened. “Ancestors .” She’d have to be careful. Though most people didn’t go around trying to touch her face, she’d have to be wary to keep her own skin from coming into contact with it.

  “Here.” Srah removed a pair of dark leather gloves from inside her cloak. “Wear these.”

  “Thank you.” Narra took them gratefully and slipped them on before she did something awful like break the one spell that’d keep her hidden from imperial court.

  “All right, we should go now. A steamwagon is picking us up at the trolley stop in a few minutes,” Srah explained.

  Narra nodded. She slipped her gloved fingers around her hood and pulled it up over her head. It concealed her hair completely, and the lace veil descended to her nose, brushing her cheeks and concealing her sky blue eyes. Though the rest of her face had changed, her eyes remained the same.

  She squinted through the veil, annoyed to find the fabric blocking part of her vision.

  “You’ll get used to it.” Srah chuckled knowingly.

  Narra grumbled doubtfully as Srah led the way out of the cellar. For the first time, Narra went around the side of the house to the front gate. Srah unlocked it with a black-coated iron key, and motioned Narra through before exiting herself and turning once again to lock the gate.

  “You bother to lock the gate with such a low fence?” Narra asked, genuinely curious. Though the wall was almost seven feet tall, she wouldn’t call that high, or enough to keep out anyone determined to get in.

  “It’s only polite,” Srah scolded. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

  Narra couldn’t believe this god was acting like a disapproving mother.

  “Come on,” Srah said. “We’re almost out of time.”

  Narra nodded and followed Srah to the trolley stop as the sun began to dip toward the horizon. Her heart raced with anticipation. Soon, she’d be inside the Imperial Palace, and then she’d get her revenge.

  The steamwagon slowed to a stop outside the front gates of the Imperial Palace. Narra’s stomach flipped with nerves, and she fisted her hands in her lap.

  “Evening,” the driver said to the Palace Guard.

  “Evening,” the guard replied. “Name?”

  “It should be under Duchess Amelia Goldhart of the Wells. Two of her handmaidens are returning from the city,” the driver explained.

  The guard huffed and pretended to glance over a sheet on his clipboard. He leaned around the edge of the vehicle, peering through the open window of the cab where Narra sat across from Srah.

  Srah looked up and smiled prettily at the guard.

  The guard paused, and a grin of his own appeared before blush spread on his bronze cheeks. “Very well. Welcome back to the palace, ladies.”

  “Thank you.” Srah nodded politely, and then the driver ushered the steamwagon forward .

  Narra let out a relieved breath as the steamwagon rolled into the courtyard of the Imperial Palace.

  “Don’t be so worried,” Srah laughed. “Everything will be fine.”

  “Easy to say when you’re a god,” Narra mumbled and looked out the window.

  Srah smiled. “Well, that isn’t entirely true.”

  Narra glanced back into the cabin at Srah. She raised a curious eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Srah blushed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  The steamwagon stopped in front of the palace steps. Before Narra could get out another word, the door to the driver’s cabin slammed shut, and the door to the main cabin was pulled open. The driver bowed and offered his hand to help them out.

  Srah smiled at Narra. “Another time.”

  The goddess was the first to step out of the steamwagon, giving a polite thank you to the driver before she stepped onto the curb. Narra followed suit, her mind racing with possibilities as she mechanically followed Srah up the steps.

  What did Srah mean it wasn’t exactly easy being a god? She couldn’t imagine anything simpler than having magic at your fingertips to do anything you wished.

  Srah paused by the doors to the palace, and Narra barely stopped in time to keep from running into her back. The guards at the door gave Srah a slight bow before opening the doors for them.

  The second the great iron doors pushed inward, music drifted through the crack. Narra’s pulse sped up as she looked down the main hall of the palace. A burgundy runner ran up the center aisle, blocking the beautiful white and silver marbled floor from view. Why anyone would cover up such beauty was beyond her.

  Srah walked inside, and Narra quickly followed. She admired the golden sconces burning with flame and casting warm light on the entire hall.

  “Welcome, Handmaiden Sarah.” A butler appeared in a black tuxedo with a white silk napkin slung over his arm. It was held up to his waist, and even as he straightened from his bow, he didn’t remove it. His dark brown gaze flickered from Srah to Narra. “And who is this lovely creature?”

  Srah giggled. “You flatterer. This is Narsa. She’s very difficult to get out of her room.” Srah shared a conspiratory wink with the butler while Narra gave them both a confused look.

  “Well I’m honored Handmaiden Narsa could bless us with her presence this evening.” The butler bowed to Narra before straightening and motioning them down the hall. “The party is already in full swing. Duchess Amelia will make her entrance shortly. I understand you need to be by her side when she enters.”

  “Yes, thank you Gerard.” Srah flashed another dazzling smile and the butler nearly tripped on the carpet runner.

  “It is always a pleasure to assist, My Lady.”

  Gerard led them through a twisting series of halls until they arrived at a small sitting room on the first floor. The music was louder here, drifting through the halls in a slow melodic tune. It wasn’t every day Narra was able to hear music. In fact, music was generally seen as a luxury in the Rovan Empire. The last time she’d heard it was at the Dollhouse, and she’d been far too out of her mind to appreciate it then.

  “I’ll take my leave.” Gerard bowed low before backing out of the room.

  The door closed with a soft click, and Narra turned to face the rest of the women seated around the fireplace on plush burgundy upholstered furniture.

  “Sarah.” A woman with breathtaking white-blond hair and dark bronze skin stood from the sofa. Her dress was silver like starlight and clung to her every curve—of which there were man
y—before flaring out at her hips. A slit ran up the leg of her dress, and her arms were entirely bare except for a black ribbon that twirled up her left wrist.

  “Duchess.” Srah’s eyes lit up as the Duchess rushed across the room. They embraced for a long moment in the center of the floor before separating. “You look absolutely stunning. ”

  Amelia smiled. “No thanks to you. You were supposed to do my hair.”

  Srah reached for her sleek straight hair and twisted a strand around her finger. “You don’t need it. Your attire already speaks for itself.”

  Amelia scoffed and gave Srah a mock scowl before she turned to welcome Narra. “Hello, it’s good to meet you.”

  “Narsa,” Srah filled in.

  Narra raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. So Srah wasn’t even revealing Narra’s real name to her Duchess. She’d understood the fake names for the driver and the Palace Guards, but she wasn’t sure she understood lying to someone Srah claimed to be close to.

  Amelia extended her hand, and Narra shook it. “A pleasure.”

  “Well, I suppose we should be headed in now that you’ve both arrived,” Amelia said. She brushed her fingers through her long hair and glanced at the other girls, of which there were six. The women stood, wearing the exact same outfit as Srah and Narra.

  “I suppose we should,” Srah agreed. “Narsa, line up with me.” Srah motioned at the empty spot beside her. The other handmaidens had already lined up in pairs behind their duchess.

  “All right.” Narra stood next to Srah.

  “Let’s go then.” Amelia gave them a large smile before she opened the door and led the way down the hall.

  Narra’s heart raced as she recognized the twisting route to the ballroom. Though she’d never been inside, she’d spent quite some time last night memorizing the many passages throughout the palace. She didn’t want to be caught off guard during the hand-offs.

  They reached the floor to ceiling gilded iron doors to the ballroom. Columns lined the inside hall and a sensual beat drifted into the corridor.

  Amelia paused in the arch of the door and delivered a stunning smile to the entire ballroom.