“That’s why we’re doing this, Shuffles.”
“There’s no way he’s paying that much.”
Voices started to get closer. They weren’t going to be able to stay there much longer. Finn worried about what would happen were he to linger beyond what he already had.
“I’ve told you what he’s willing to pay.”
A carved staff.
What the Client had hired them to collect was incredibly strange. They weren’t the kinds of jobs the crew normally did, but any job that paid what the Client had been willing to pay was worthwhile.
Was it worthwhile for him?
Finn already knew the answer. He’d been willing to break into the viscount’s manor to steal enough for his family. To protect them.
He needed time to figure out how he would continue to protect them.
The only way to do it was to keep going.
“Fine. Let’s get moving. Where would this staff be found?”
“That’s the only other thing the Client told me. It’s in the library. That’s where we need to head.”
Finn frowned. Why would a staff be found in the library?
There was just so much that was strange about the entire job that he didn’t think questioning it anymore made sense.
“And the library is on the second level.”
“This one is,” the King said.
The second level, where King Porman was in residence. Archers would be guarding him. Death would follow if they were caught.
Finn sighed. They might as well get moving.
The King lingered for a moment, watching him. It seemed as if he weren’t sure what Finn would do.
For that matter, Finn wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
When the King started up the stairs, pausing at the landing, Finn followed him, staying close behind him. The sound of voices was more distant.
Could that mean that the Archers had gone somewhere else?
Rock had drawn some of the Archers away.
What had Oscar and Wolf done?
They would have been a part of it as well.
Finn had to think that Oscar would have been far more skilled at sneaking through the palace. This was the kind of thing the Hand was made for.
Why wouldn’t they have involved him in this aspect of the job?
The King motioned for Finn to follow.
He stepped forward, his heart seeming to stop.
Moving forward like this put them out in the open, and Finn worried that he was far too exposed. There was no one else out in the hallway. No movement. No Archers.
The King guided him along the hall, and he seemed to be counting the doors before pausing in front of a set of double doors. He rested his hand on the handle for a moment.
Voices behind them caught Finn’s attention, and he pushed on the King’s back.
The King threw the door open and hurried into the other room. Finn followed him, stepping inside the room quickly, and the King closed the door behind him.
Once inside, Finn looked around. It was a library, much like the King had claimed they would find.
It was not quite like what he had expected. When Finn thought of libraries, he thought of vast, massive structures filled with dusty books and faded tables such as those found within many churches. This wasn’t anything like that.
It was a single story. Shelves lined the walls. Books filled all of the shelves. A single table and a leather chair that could have been the twin of the two that he’d seen in the room they’d entered occupied the center of the room.
Finn turned in place, looking all around the shelves. He didn’t see any sign of a carved wooden staff.
“There isn’t anything here,” Finn said.
“This was where we were told to find it,” the King said.
A hint of irritation entered his voice.
Was the King now saying the Client couldn’t be trusted?
He leaned up against the door, cracking it slightly.
Voices along the hallway caught his attention, though he couldn’t hear what they were saying. They were muted, but he had a sense of something from within them.
Irritation. Agitation.
They were looking for something.
Gods, they had to be looking for them.
Maybe Rock had been captured and had revealed that there were others within the palace.
The King continued to look around the inside of the room, searching the shelves.
Finn wanted to tell him that there was nothing to find but had a sense the King was agitated because they were not going to find anything.
All of this for a carved wooden staff that wasn’t even going to be there?
He leaned on the door for a moment. “We’re going to have to find a way out of here,” Finn said.
“Not until I find the item.”
“The item isn’t here,” Finn said. “The Client sent you here for nothing.”
The King turned to him, anger flashing in his eyes. “It’s something, and we’re going to find it, so you had better start helping me look, Shuffles.”
There was a different edge to his voice.
Not just anger, but could there be worry?
The King had debt. Just how much? Enough to take an impossible job. Enough to bring others in on it. Enough to betray the crew.
“Where do you expect me to help you find it?”
“I expect—”
Voices came from the other side of the door.
Someone was near.
Finn held his hand on the door, pushing it closed.
He motioned to the King, silencing him.
The King joined him at the door. They both took up places on either side of the double doors. If nothing else, were the doors to open, they might be able to hide behind them if Archers came in.
The doors opened.
Finn couldn’t see anything.
He held his breath, waiting.
The doors remained open for a moment. Then another. Then another.
Nothing moved.
He remained motionless, waiting.
Finally, the doors pulled closed again.
He let his breath out, and the King moved to stand in front of the doors. He pulled one open slightly, little more than a crack, and he peered out.
Finn wanted to pull him back, but there was no point in it. The King was going to do what he wanted.
Finn took the opportunity to search the inside of the library.
A carved wooden staff.
He didn’t see anything on shelves other than books.
He paused at the chair, looking it over, but it was a leather-bound, high-backed chair. Nothing more than that. He checked the table and didn’t see anything there, either.
Finally, he turned to look overhead.
Not that Finn expected to see anything overhead.
Beams crossed the ceiling, though there was something else there.
“What’s that?” Finn whispered.
The King turned, frowning. “What?”
Finn pointed overhead. “That?”
The King looked up. A hint of a smile began to curl his lips.
He hurried to the chair, standing on it. “Hold it so that it doesn’t tip over,” the King said.
Finn leaned on the seat of the chair. The King climbed up to the top of the high back, and he reached up. A length of wood crossed over the beams, as if joining them in some way.
The King pulled it down, a sharp crack echoing in the small room, before climbing back down from the top of the chair and standing next to Finn.
“This has to be it,” King said.
Finn looked down at the length of wood. There were carvings on it. Symbols that looked to be some sort of writing that he couldn’t read. The wood itself was a strange color and texture. It was as long as one of Finn’s legs and about as thick as his forearm. It seemed to twist, spiraling around, though Finn couldn’t tell if that was the wood's shape or some aspect of the carving. It could be
either.
“This is worth one hundred crowns?” Finn asked, tracing his hand along the surface before looking up, another question lingering in his eyes as he looked at the King.
“We’d better hope so,” the King said.
He scanned the ceiling, and Finn followed the direction of his gaze. There was nothing else within the room.
That had to be the staff. It certainly was carved and made of wood, but he still couldn’t believe that it would be as valuable as what the Client offered to pay for it.
Now that they had the staff, the key was going to be getting out of there.
Finn left the King with the staff and pulled on the door.
Voices and footsteps were in the hall. Which meant Archers were in the hall.
Finn looked over to the King. “We aren’t going to get out of here without a distraction.”
The King watched him. “I know.”
He intended it to be him.
Of course he did. That had been why Rock had come too.
“Getting in was only a part of the challenge,” the King said.
“You used the crew as a diversion. You’ve always used the crew as a diversion.”
“You aren’t in the crew. Not since he claimed you.”
“What about Rock? That’s why you sprung him from Declan?” He was curious about how the King had managed to do that. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to get out of Declan so easily. The prison was well guarded, though Oscar had come in and visited Finn.
“Rock knew his purpose.”
Finn grunted. “That’s why you were so adamant I come all the way up here with you. You needed someone to distract the Archers.”
“Assuming we found it, yes. That was Pegg’s mistake. He wanted to protect his crew. He didn’t want them to risk themselves.” The King shrugged. “Now it’s your turn to prove what you can do for the crew. No more games. Can your new connections keep you safe?”
Finn doubted the Archers would let him out of this one.
He shook his head. “This was never about just the crew.”
“You get this done, and you’ve got my protection.”
“I don’t care about your protection. I want a cut.”
“I told you I’d pay—”
Finn shook his head. “This kind of a job is worth more than five crowns. Much more. I do this, and I escape”—which he knew was unlikely, but he wanted to be prepared for the possibility that he might—“and I get an even cut.”
Finn didn’t know if that would leave enough to settle whatever debt the King owed, but suspected it wasn’t the money so much as the job the Client needed done.
The King studied him a moment. “Fine. We get through this, then you get an even cut.”
If they got through it. Finn knew that was the hardest part at this point.
He leaned on the door. He would have to serve as the distraction.
Get into the hall. Draw the Archers off. Make a run.
Then what?
Were he to get out, he’d have to find a way to get off the grounds. He wouldn’t have the King’s rope. No way for him to scale the wall. There might not be a way for him to escape the grounds without it.
“Time to get moving, Shuffles.”
Finn grunted. “We get through this, and I get a better name,” he muttered.
“What kind of name do you want?”
Finn shook his head. “I don’t know. Anything is better than Shuffles.”
The sounds along the hall had grown more distant. Muted, even.
He pulled open the door and headed into the hall.
Finn remained there a moment and raced toward the stairs.
A shout rang out behind him.
He didn’t wait.
He was the distraction.
He ran.
Racing down the stairs, he reached the main level and looked the way they’d come, only to find several Archers coming toward him. The other way was free.
That didn’t give him a choice. He turned and headed that way.
It led toward the main entrance of the palace.
That would be a mistake.
When he reached the next door along the hall, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
A sitting room. Several chairs. A leather bench. A few lanterns. Paintings hung on the walls. A bowl in the middle of the floor. And a window.
Finn reached the window.
A bowl.
Why would it be there?
He paused, spinning back, and grabbed the bowl, stuffing it into his pocket.
Something still wasn’t right.
Racing to the window, sweat slicked his palms. His heart pounded. Finn struggled to open it.
It reminded him of the job at the viscount’s home. He shouldn’t even have been in the home that time, and his getting caught was because he’d gone after Oscar. This time, he didn’t know if Oscar was even in the palace. That might have been more distracting.
The door started to open.
Finn pulled on the window.
It came free with a soft scream.
Finn pulled it all the way open and started to climb through.
An Archer raced toward, reaching for him. Finn jerked free of the Archer’s grip and dove through the window. He rolled forward in the grass, tumbling away from the palace.
Then he sprang to his feet and ran.
Archers chased him out of the open window.
He had to stay ahead of them. He could hear the sound of their boots on the hard ground, along with their heavy breathing as they chased.
Finn ran. When he neared the familiar section of the garden where they’d come in, he glanced in either direction but decided to move straight ahead. He had to reach the wall. Then he could work on climbing it.
Archers in the distance caught his attention. They were coming toward him from both directions along the road.
Finn wasn’t going to be able to outrun them.
A whistle came.
It was soft. Once. Twice.
A warning.
Finn turned toward it. Probably not the King, but maybe it was Wolf or Oscar. Gods, it could even be Rock, if he’d managed to escape himself. He would take any of them at this point.
The wall loomed into view as a shadowed form stretching fifteen feet overhead. Far too high for him to easily climb.
When he reached the wall, he raced along the inside of it. The sense of movement came from all around him, Archers following him, but he ignored that and continued on as quickly as he could.
Where would he try to climb?
He didn’t see a place.
Maybe he’d find one of the crew and could get help, but the whistling didn’t come again. Finn was certain that he’d heard it, so there had to be others of the crew out there, only where had they gone?
There wasn’t a sign of anyone else.
There had to be some place for him to cross, though there wouldn’t be another gate.
Finn continued racing forward, keeping his gaze searching all around him, trying to uncover how he might be able to get out of there. The Archers were near him. He could feel the sense of them nearby, close enough that he recognized the sound of their boots, and every so often, Finn heard a shout come from behind him. As long as he stayed ahead of them, he might be able to escape.
He started to circle around the entirety of the palace garden.
If he were to do that, then he would end up right back where he had started, and Finn worried that doing so would only end up with his capture.
He reached a place behind the palace. From there, Finn noticed a grove of trees.
He hadn’t circled around behind the palace before, though there had been no reason for him to do so. The palace was situated in the center of the city, and the wall surrounding it made it so that he wouldn’t have been able to see anything on the inside of the palace grounds anyway.
He reached one of the trees.
The sound of the Archers chasing him persisted.
He had managed to stay ahead of them so far, though Finn doubted he would be able to keep ahead of them for much longer.
Eventually, the Archers would catch him.
He was getting tired.
Finn ran through the trees, and as he did, he caught sight of one with a branch looming close to the ground. He jumped for it.
Finn scrambled, trying to get a little higher. An Archer reached the tree. Another one came into view below him as well.
Finn climbed.
He moved as quickly as he could, getting higher into the tree, high enough that he thought that he might be able to get up and over the wall, but it would involve jumping, risking himself.
Finn scrambled higher into the tree.
One of the Archers started to climb after him.
Finn got a little bit higher… and then he saw his way out. He knew what he had to do.
He scrambled out onto the branch and worked his way as far and as fast as he could. When he reached the end of the branch, the top of the wall loomed into view.
This was his chance.
Finn glanced behind him. The Archers were coming toward him. He didn’t hesitate any longer. He dropped.
It was a far drop from where he was, but he landed on top of the wall, and he almost slipped back into the yard.
Finn caught himself, scrambling back to the top of the wall. When he was up to the top of it, he glanced back to see the Archers trying to work their way along the branch.
They only had to jump, and they would be able to reach him.
Finn had to move quickly. Archers were heading toward him along the wall as well. He was going to get pinned in.
Moving forward, he hung from the wall, dangling for a moment, then dropped. He rolled his ankle but ignored the pain shooting through it.
The Archers shouted after him, but he ignored them as well.
Finn ran as quickly as he could, getting farther into the surrounding streets and then into the shadows where his darks would hide him. If only they would conceal him completely. Finn didn’t know if they would mask him as well as he needed them to.
He ducked along one of the streets and then slipped into an alley.
It wasn’t an alley he was familiar with, though he thought he knew where it would lead. He moved along the alley as quickly as he could, following the twisting and turning, before it paused at another street outlet.
The Executioner's Right (The Executioner's Song Book 1) Page 35