Clockwork Thief Box Set

by Katherine Bogle

  Air exploded from his lungs in a loud heave. He grunted as he collapsed onto his knees before her. Narra had a knife in her hand in seconds. She drove it into the side of his skull with a thunk .

  The other man gasped while his friend’s lifeless body slumped to the floor.

  “What the fuck?” he whispered like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Narra smirked. “This is what happens to dirty pigs like the two of you.” She pointed at the dead body. “Now kneel before the Hand of Death and maybe I’ll spare you.”

  She had to resist snorting in amusement. There’s no way she could let him live. He’d just witnessed her kill a man. But he didn’t know that. And she was angry. So angry . How dare these men try to assault her in the hall?

  She was a Commander of the Thieves Guild, Death’s Hand, and she was about to be the most famous woman in history once she had her hands on that crown.

  The man looked at his friend’s body. Blood oozed from the gaping wound in his skull, pooling around his limp form until he laid in a puddle of his own blood. The lieutenant whimpered and looked back at her. His hands shook as he reached for the silver rapier at his hip.

  Narra smiled. “I was hoping you’d choose that.”

  He tore his sword from its sheath. Whatever time she’d given him, he’d used it to sober up. He stared with terrified wide eyes at Narra as she lifted her veil and tossed her hood back. He was going to die. She didn’t need to hide her face from him anymore.

  His eyes widened with recognition as she drew a long dagger from the sheath on her thigh. She stood with two blades at the ready on either side of her .

  Heat pooled in her belly. The fact that he knew who she was, was like the icing on the cake. He’d die knowing he messed with the wrong woman. She was almost tempted to let him live, since she was sure he’d never try something like this again—not after staring down Death’s Hand.

  The man darted forward, roaring a battle cry as he lunged, the tip of his rapier darting out with a practiced hand.

  Narra stepped to the side, and his sword flew right passed. He must be drunker than she thought, as he threw himself off balance with a foolhardy move like that. She stuck out her foot, and the man tripped. He slammed against the ground with a resounding thud .

  “Is that all you have, army boy?” She prodded his leg with the toe of her boot. The fire of her anger continued to burn through her, all the way to her fingertips. She clenched her daggers hard as he jumped to his feet.

  She allowed him time to stumble and regain his footing. He was no match for her on a good day. This drunk soldier was going to die.

  The man swung his blade in a sloppy move. Narra leapt back, avoiding it easily. “If you don’t try harder, you’re not going to die an honorable death. Military men care about that, don’t they?”

  The soldier stilled. Anger twisted his face and his fists shook. He unleashed another battle cry before lunging at her again. He swiped wildly, the tip of his blade flying left and right. Narra dodged each hit with simple steps until she could duck low. She pushed her dagger upward into his gut, then tore it right back out.

  He stumbled and lost his grip on the rapier. It clattered to the ground and he fell alongside it.

  Narra watched him heave for breath. She hadn’t hit anything vital, aside from maybe his digestive tract. Though he could go septic in a few hours if not properly treated, he wouldn’t necessarily die.

  The soldier groaned as he gripped the carpet runner. He pulled himself forward, trying to escape her down the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” Narra purred coldly. She couldn’t help the laugh bubbling in her throat. He deserved this. He was just like every other man who thought they could have any woman they wanted just because .

  The man pulled himself again, his limbs trembling with the effort. Narra brushed her cloak back and stepped on his spine. He moaned as she put pressure on his back, forcing his wound to grind against the ground.

  “You messed with the wrong woman.” Narra squeezed the hilt of her dagger and then plunged it into the back of his neck.

  He went limp, his eyes staring unseeing at the smooth stone wall.

  Narra stepped away from the dead body and took a deep breath. As her breathing slowed and her heart stopped racing, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

  What in Srah’s name had she just done?

  Cold dread sat in the pit of her stomach like a rock. She’d just killed these two men. And the things she’d said… how it made her feel.

  Nausea lurched into her throat, and she quickly stomped it back down. Was she starting to like killing?

  “No,” she whispered. That was impossible.

  It was only because they’d try to assault her. That had to be it. Narra’s fingers shook as she took the rag from the back of her pocket and cleaned her daggers. She looked down either end of the hall and strained her ears for any sign of incoming guards. But she heard nothing but the distance rhythm of music.

  Shit. What time was it?

  Narra scrambled to grab the pocket watch inside her cloak. She yanked it out and snapped the top up so she could look at the marble face. She still had five minutes before they came for the crown.

  Her pulse started back up again with a vengeance. The sound reverberated painfully in her skull. She didn’t have time to dispose of the bodies. She had to keep going.

  Narra called to mind the location of the vault once more. She was in a remote portion of the castle far behind the throne room. It wasn’t likely any guard patrols would come this way with the event going on, and there were far quicker routes to the vault .

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. She could think about what she’d done and what it meant later. Now she had a job to do.

  Narra stepped over the lifeless forms of the soldiers. She flicked up her hood, letting the lace settle back over her eyes. At least is provided some protection. She pulled her cloak back into place before she took up running. Screw quiet and careful. If she didn’t get there in the next few minutes, her window would close.

  Racing down the hall, Narra spun into the right corridor. Her feet raced along with her heart as she tried to push out every malicious thought she’d had in the last ten minutes. That wasn’t her. That dark, blood lusting side of her wasn’t real. It was something created by the Daughters of Ashra. She’d have to deal with it one day, but not today.

  Narra skidded into another hall, and then another. It took her two minutes to slow to a stop in the corridor where the vault lay. She stopped at the corner, gasping for breath. Once she got her breathing under control, she held it and listened. She heard distant voices, but no footsteps.

  Please let luck be on my side, just this once .

  Narra sent up the silent prayer to whoever was listening. Be it Srah, Ashra, or someone else entirely, she needed the gods on her side tonight.

  She reached the door to the rooms housing the vault a moment later. Her heart pounded and her palms were sweaty, but she had no time to stop and calm herself. She tore the keys from her pocket and inspected the three unique keyholes set into the iron door. After a quick glance at each of the keys, she found the right key for the right lock.

  She slipped in the first and twisted. The tumblers dropped with a click. Her heartbeat sped as she unlocked the next. An adrenaline-fuelled grin spread on her face as she went for the last.

  Click .

  She was in.

  Narra squeezed the door handle and pushed the thick piece of iron open.

  N arra stepped into the dim light of the room housing the vault. Against the back wall stood an enormous metal box half the size of the room itself. Her heart rammed against her ribs as she crossed the room to the vault door.

  The long levers stuck out from the massive circular door. She gripped the handle and twisted. Her arms tightened painfully and she groaned as she forced the metal to bend to her will. The levers moved slowly at first, and then all at once. Narra stumbled to the side as th
e levers flew to her left.

  Then the door popped open, air brushing back loose strands of her hair that had fallen from her braid.

  This was it.

  Narra stepped up to the door and pushed it open.

  A pedestal waited inside with a red cushion atop it.

  And nothing else.

  Narra’s blood ran cold. What? She stepped inside the vault and raced in a circle around the pedestal.

  Nothing.

  There was no fucking crown. It was already gone. But how ? She ground her teeth as fire filled her chest. Angry tears burned the corners of her eyes. She pressed her palms against her closed eyelids.

  No. She couldn’t lose it. Not right now. She had to think. There was still time.

  The map. There was a quicker route to the throne room. She could cut them off before they arrived.

  Narra let her hands fall to her sides, and then she was running. Her heart pounded as she raced faster than she ever had before. She turned left, and then right, twisting the same way she was sure they’d take the crown.

  Trumpets sounded ahead. No . Not yet!

  She pushed herself faster and harder, sprinting down hall after hall until she heard voices, and the clink of armor.

  Was that them? The guards escorting the High Priest?

  Narra pushed until she reached the next corridor just as two guards walked in from the adjacent hall. Her heart stopped and her eyes widened. There was no High Priest, but there were two very startled guards looking at her with wide eyes.

  She had no time to stop, no time to turn and run. So she used her momentum and leapt. Her boots slammed against the hip of the enemy, forcing him to the ground. She tore a dagger from her belt and slit his throat before leaping off of him.

  The second guard gaped at her for only a second before ripping his sword from its sheath.

  Too slow .

  Narra let loose a throwing knife, and it thunked into his eye socket. She spun back the way she’d been running and took off. She didn’t have time to think about killing, or what it meant. She had to get that crown.

  She ran and ran as the trumpets sounded once, twice, then three times. She swung into the next hall. He had to be there. But he wasn’t.

  “Hey!” a man bellowed.

  Narra spun to find another pair of guards lurching after her.

  “Hold! Put down your weapons!” the second shouted .

  Narra looked down at her blood soaked dagger. She hadn’t even realized she was still holding it. She really was losing her mind.

  She turned to flee, but the pair were already barrelling towards her. What didn’t these soldiers understand about not having time for this?

  A growl on her lips, she spun to face them, pulling another long dagger from her hip. The taller of the two attacked first, launching his sword straight down toward her head. A foolish move.

  Narra ducked and thrust her dagger between his chest plate and thigh armor. He howled in pain and lurched sideways. She spun on the second who lunged with a steel tipped rapier.

  Her dagger shinged against the edge of his sword as she parried his attack, thrusting his blade to the side so she could dive forward with her second.

  Her blade sliced through his neck, and she kicked him to the ground with all of her strength.

  Pain sliced through her back and she inhaled sharply. Narra spun, throwing her dagger up instinctively to stop a second attack.

  The first man she’d attacked braced himself on the wall. Sweat poured down his face, and pain seized his expression. He narrowed his eyes at her as hot blood poured down her back.

  Narra’s nostrils flared as the smell of copper flew up her nose. She knew the smell well, though she was surprised to find she didn’t register it until it was her blood she was smelling.

  She reached for her back when the guard made no move to attack again. Her fingers came away bloody. It couldn’t have been too deep. She’d suffered many deep gashes over the years, and they’d sent her to her knees every time.

  It could be her adrenaline keeping her on her feet. But she’d have no way of knowing until the racing of her heart slowed.

  The man pushed off the wall and leapt toward her.

  Narra stepped back, and winced as pain shot through her back. It was bearable, but annoying as hell. She raised her dagger to block his attack, then spun to get inside his defenses and stab his gut again. Her blade dinged off his armor, and her eyebrows furrowed .

  Shit. She was slower with her injury, and apparently less accurate.

  The guard drove his shoulder into her chest, throwing her back. Narra caught the edge of a table along the wall. It was enough for her to spin and land on her hands and knees. She thrust up, and dove forward just in time to avoid his sword crashing down on the carpet where she’d been moments ago.

  Narra ripped three throwing knives from her belt and launched them one after the other. The first clanged off his sword, the second sunk into his armor. The third hit the unprotected shoulder joint.

  “You’re making me waste my blades,” Narra hissed. She didn’t like wasting weapons when she wouldn’t have time to pry them out of his corpse.

  The guard chuckled darkly. “That’s what you’re worried about? Fucking bitch.”

  Narra smiled and dove forward as he spit blood out of his mouth. He was bleeding internally. The fight was already hers. He just hadn’t accepted it yet. She leapt forward, daggers at the ready. He brought his sword up to block her attack, but Narra feinted left before spinning around to the side, slipping in behind him.

  She’d never understand why Palace Guards, or soldiers in general continued to use heavy metal armor. They might be able to protect against lesser opponents with dull blades, but they could hardly move. And that was her next victim’s downfall.

  Narra slipped her blade through the crack in his armor, piercing his spine. He gasped and crumbled to his knees.

  “My legs,” the man cried through pained breaths.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you like this.” Narra stepped up over his body and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back to reveal his throat.

  “Don’t!” he begged.

  Narra slid her dagger across his throat and dropped his head as blood gushed from the wound. She stepped back, listening to him gurgle until he went still. She sighed and turned back the way she’d come.

  Another round of trumpets sent her running. Pain ripped up her back and she cursed herself for letting one of them take advantage of her adrenaline-fuelled brain. She couldn’t think properly on this kind of high. She needed to calm down and get her mind back.

  Narra raced down the halls outside the throne room and slid in the back between thick burgundy curtains. She pulled her cloak tight and her hood low.

  A golden gilded throne with a red cushion sat atop a dais at the far end of the hall. A burgundy carpet trimmed in gold lined the path to the throne, where Marina stood in a violet dress made of velvet. It hugged her curves and flared at her hips. She smiled as she spun to face the crowd filling the throne room. She clutched a gold hilted sword in her hands, tip pointed at the floor.

  “Rheka!” a familiar voice hissed.

  Narra looked into the dark eyes of Avalon as the pirate grabbed her arm and yanked her back into the shadows.

  “What are you doing? What happened? Where is the crown?” Avalon fired question after question at her in a feverish voice. Then she gasped. “Wait. Why do I recognize you?”

  Narra looked over Avalon’s shoulder as the High Priest appeared before the throne. He held up a large fur trimmed golden crown encrusted with diamonds and rubies that glittered even in the torchlight.

  She sucked in a pained breath and held Avalon’s arm for support. No. This couldn’t be happening. How had things gone so wrong?

  The High Priest stepped forward and placed the crown atop Marina Kolarova’s head of curly brown hair.

  Avalon shook her and squeezed her arms painfully. “Rheka !”

  N
arra’s shoulders sagged with defeat as the High Priest stepped back, holding his hand out to display the princess. No. Not the princess. Not anymore.

  The High Priest’s voice boomed in the sudden quiet, “Citizens of Rova and of all the known world, I present to you… Marina Kolarova, Empress of Rova.”

  To be continued…

  Narra has failed. With her mortal enemy crowned Empress of Rova, what lengths will she go to, to dethrone Marina?

  Find out in Empress of Annihilation!

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  “ I present to you… Marina Kolarova, Empress of Rova.”

  Those words echoed over and over in Narra’s mind, bouncing off the confines of her skull until they rung in her ears and her entire world tilted around her .

  “Rheka!” Avalon gasped. She squeezed Narra’s arm, barely able to hold her aloft. “We’ve got to go.”

  Narra’s heart pounded hard, beating her ribs in time with the crowd’s applause. The smile on Marina’s gorgeous face sent a shiver down Narra’s spine. It was sickening. How could she stand up there and take the crown of her own father? The man she’d manipulated Narra into killing?

  She ground her teeth. She was seeing red. She couldn’t think through the overwhelming rage coursing through her veins, spreading heat to her fingertips, urging her to act.

  Narra didn’t dare glance away from the opulent golden gilded throne, or Marina smiling and waving at the people before her. While she watched, her fingers skated through her cloak until they closed on a throwing knife.

  One toss. That’s all it would take, and this would all be over. Marina would be dead, and the empire would erupt into chaos… but at least she’d have her revenge.

  Narra shook as she pulled her knife free.