“Not many do,” Ty said. “There were only a few houses. My father had come from Lerena off to the east, my mother from…” Ty realized he didn’t exactly know where his mother had come from. Likely Zarinth, since she knew the area so well. “When we came to Zarinth, they wanted to better understand the way the people who lived here before had lived.”
“Why?”
Ty shook his head. “To be honest, I never really understood. My mother always said she didn’t really care for the city. We weren’t very far into the jungle, just at the edge, but close enough that I spent more time there than anywhere else.”
“What happened to your parents?” she asked.
“I never learned,” Ty said. “They just disappeared.”
After waiting for them to return—and finding they didn’t—Ty had come to the city.
He didn’t tell Olivia how difficult it had been for him.
And she didn’t explain to him how she had ended up coming to Bingham. He hadn’t pushed, but it was the start of seeing her more often, something he had never minded.
They hadn’t worked together regularly in those days—certainly not often enough to form any sort of friendship—but they sometimes did, and she would serve as a lookout on a job that Ty would pull, or she would be in Bingham’s shop when he returned to make a transaction, or he would encounter her in the street, almost as if she were waiting for him.
Ty had thought there had been a connection between them. He had allowed himself to believe she liked him, to believe her smiles were more than part of the job.
Ty never had to take any job that Bingham offered, but they usually paid better than those he found on his own, and Bingham soon had a job that Ty thought could use a second person. A merchant home, one on the southern edge of the city—far away from Ishantil, but a part of the city where they often operated, mostly because that was where the wealth congregated. Bingham had heard rumors that one of the merchants had made a trade for a dragon relic. Relics were always made out of obsidian, which was always more valuable to Bingham than the dragon remnants made out of bone.
“The job should be easy,” Bingham had said. “Get inside and grab only the relic— nothing else. Otherwise, it will attract attention before we want it to. Then back out.”
Ty had looked over to Olivia. She was a year or two younger than him, and she watched him, a hint of a smile on her face, but now there was more of an edge to her eyes. “I could use some help on the job,” he had said foolishly.
Bingham had looked over to him. “I never knew you to need help.”
And most of the time, Ty didn’t. He had proven himself skilled. A master at lock picking, silent as he moved, disappearing like a shadow. In fact, some liked to call him the Shadow Thief, though given everything he stole, at least most of the time, he preferred to call himself the dragon thief, but there was a true Dragon Thief, and he knew using that name would increase his risk of being targeted.
“She needs experience, doesn’t she?” Ty asked.
Bingham had said nothing, which Ty had taken for assent.
So they had approached the merchant home in the quiet darkness of night. In this part of the city, so far removed from the excitement found around the temple and Ishantil, the days had more of a rhythm: busy during the day, quiet at night. There weren’t even that many taverns or cafés in this part of the city, which made it feel somewhat boring.
“He hasn’t had me taking jobs like this yet,” Olivia said, her voice quiet. She seemed almost innocent.
In fact, she had seemed innocent when he had first met her. That hadn’t really changed in the time he been working with her, encountering her with Bingham. Ty suspected Bingham had her training to pick locks and learning how to move quietly, lessons that Ty had during his first days with Bingham. Most of them had been picked up quickly, easily, and there had been a time when Ty had wondered why Bingham had bothered to teach anyone his tradecraft, especially if they might one day be able to use it and keep Bingham out of the loop, but it hadn’t taken him long to realize that they were the ones putting themselves into danger, and Bingham benefited from staying out of it. What did it matter how many he trained if he still reaped the benefit without any risk?
Not only that, but Bingham had always had a limp for as long as Ty had known him. He may have even had one when Ty’s mother had known him, though he didn’t remember it quite that well.
“It’s usually a matter of time before you take these sorts of jobs,” Ty said. “I had to push him, though I doubt you will have to push him quite as much as I did.”
She looked at him as if she wasn’t sure what he meant, and Ty had shrugged.
He wasn’t about to tell her the reason he thought that, partly because he didn’t want to offend her, and partly because he didn’t like to think of Bingham like that. He didn’t know how old he was, but with his wrinkled features, gray hair, and overall grouchy attitude, he couldn’t help but think he was several decades older than even Ty’s parents had been.
Ty had paused in front of the merchant’s home, staying in the shadows. He and Olivia were dressed in black clothes, keeping themselves fully hidden, so he felt comfortable scoping out the home. He nodded across the street, motioning to one of the windows on the lower level. “That should be our easiest entry point. If Bingham is right, he’s going to keep the sculpture displayed. Most of these merchants do. They like to show off things like this.”
“I thought the king valued the sculptures?”
“He does, but he doesn’t know everything.”
She looked around. “What about the Dragon Touched? Won’t they detect it?”
There was always that danger. The Dragon Touched had the ability to sense when a dragon remnant was around, and certain dragon relics as well. Ty had never really learned to make the distinction between when they could and couldn’t, but he knew it was best to be careful.
“Possibly,” he said, nodding. “It’s why we sell it as quickly as possible to Bingham. If we wait too long, there’s a possibility they can track it back to us.”
Ty didn’t know Bingham’s connections, but he had some way of masking what he bought—at least, he seemed to. Either that, or he simply moved everything they stole faster than the Dragon Touched could track. That was more likely. Especially knowing what he did of Bingham.
“On a job like this, you always have to scout for guards. Some of these merchants can pay for their own security, but not all,” he said, looking along the street and seeing nothing moving, but knowing he needed to take another look before advancing. “That said, enough of them have at least one or two men they use to patrol. They are privately funded, and tend to be a little more aggressive than the king’s soldiers.”
“Why would they be more aggressive?” Olivia asked.
“Because of the kind of work they do. If they have something stolen from under their noses, it means termination.” Ty had initially felt a bit bad about that part of the job—until he had seen another thief beaten and bloodied by one of the private security guards hired by the merchants in the eastern part of the city. After that, he hadn’t felt bad at all. There were other ways to make a living in the city, and even in Zarinth, so they didn’t have to stay here to remain employed.
“Stay here,” Ty whispered. “I’m going to search the street, then we’re going in.”
Olivia nodded.
Ty moved along the street, watching for shadows and any signs of movement—anything at all that might indicate there was other security present—but found nothing. By the time he returned, he realized that Olivia was gone.
There was a petite form moving in the merchant’s yard though.
He darted forward, moving quickly. He had almost caught up to her just as she had shattered the window, the noise far too loud in the night, and stepped inside. He hurried after her. By that point, there were shadows moving in the yard. Two of them.
Ty cursed under his breath, jumping into the window.
“Olivia,”
he hissed.
She was standing in what looked to be some sort of den. There were bookshelves filled with books and a map plastered on one wall marking Zarinth, Lothinal bordering it, and the rest of the kingdom spreading off to the east. There were a few markings on the map, such as Ishantil, the fire fields, and other places of importance to the Flame. He doubted it mattered much to the merchant, as most of them didn’t follow the Flame that closely.
She had grabbed a small sculpture off a table, holding it up and turning to him.
“I got it,” she said.
Even from here, Ty could tell it was a forgery. It might be large enough to look real, but that wasn’t what they were after.
He glanced behind them and noticed the shadows moving. They didn’t have any time. “We have to get out of here,” he said. “In the future, you don’t break the window. You sneak inside.”
She had ignored him, holding on to the statue.
Ty hurriedly scanned the walls and shelves, then found a small sculpture, barely larger than his hand, shaped something like one of the small dragons the king often brought into the city to display—a threat to those who might be spying for Lothinal, and a reminder of the power of the kingdom. Not that they always needed that, as he also brought his Dragon Touched, and they were the real deterrent.
He grabbed it, then pulled on her arm. She didn’t resist.
The window was going to be the way out, but at this point, they would have to go through the home. If somebody woke up, though, they’d be forced to decide between capture and violence.
A light appeared at one end of the home.
Ty darted forward. He had scouted the home before taking the job, so he knew the layout. They would have to go to the back entrance, hope they could get into the alley, and from there…
He heard a shout.
Ty grabbed Olivia’s hand, pulled her with him, and darted toward the back door. They passed through the kitchen, a small entryway, then outside into the darkness.
He saw a shadowy form racing toward them.
He grabbed the statue Olivia had stolen and tossed it at the pursuer.
It was heavy, heavier than it looked, but it wasn’t obsidian—or if it was, it wasn’t a true dragon relic, not like Bingham was after. He had a good aim. Hours spent playing darts, often with Eastley, had helped.
“What are you doing?” Olivia’s eyes were wide, and he could see swirl of panic within them.
“That’s a forgery,” he said.
The guard paused to scoop up the sculpture, giving Ty and Olivia a chance to run. The wall surrounding the home was tall, but not so tall they couldn’t scale it. He grabbed her, pushed her up to the top of the wall, then started to climb.
He had felt something on his leg, and he had kicked, losing a boot, but then tumbled over the edge of the wall, landing on the other side. He tore off his other boot. He wasn’t going to be able to run with just one. Besides, if Bingham paid what he should, then he wasn’t going to have any difficulty replacing these boots. And there was nothing unique about them. Nothing to identify him in particular.
Ty pulled Olivia along the alley, and they raced to safety.
Only once they had moved far from the merchant section—when Ty was convinced they didn’t have anybody trailing after them—did he slow down. His breath was heavy, hot, and he looked over to Olivia.
“What were you thinking?” he asked her.
“I was thinking I could do it myself.”
He tamped down the irritation flaring inside of him. “This was my job. You came to help me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was just thinking…” Her gaze drifted to the sculpture he still had clutched in his hand. He didn’t trust tucking it into a pocket while he was sprinting, and thought he might have to hide it someplace, then come back for it later. No sculpture was worth captivity if they came across a Dragon Touched. “Is that it?” she asked.
“This is what we were after,” he said.
“I expected it to be bigger.”
Ty sighed. “Everybody thinks they can tell a fake from a true relic, but not many actually can. It takes time and understanding.” Then again, he had always managed to know the difference. It had come easily for him. “You can’t just break into a house like that. You have to do it with the right technique. You have to make sure when you go in that you are quiet, subtle, and leave no trace. They are going to know we were there.” Maybe they would think they were after the forgery, and had been forced to leave it behind. He frowned. “It’s possible they won’t come after us though. If they think that was the most valuable sculpture in the home…”
“Will they?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide, a slight pouty curl to her lips.
She was beautiful.
“It’s possible,” he said. “The merchant had it on display, certainly thinking it was real, so he might not know which one was actually real.”
But how had Bingham known that the merchant had a real sculpture?
“I’m… I’m sorry, Ty. I wasn’t thinking.”
Ty shook his head, but when she touched his arm, everything relaxed. He relaxed. It had been a long time since he’d had any real physical contact. He handed her the sculpture. “Take it. I’ll let you make the transaction with Bingham.”
“Are you sure?”
“You got us into the house,” Ty stated.
She smiled at him—the same disarming smile he had seen from her every time he had run into her.
She had taken the sculpture, but then took his hand and let him bring her back to his home. The next few hours were memorable for him—making him think about giving up the chase for his past, letting him think about a future for the first time in what seemed like forever—but she had quickly gotten dressed and her expression faded completely, changing into what he knew to be the real Olivia, then she had left him.
And nothing since then.
Ty pushed those thoughts out of his mind and stirred, realizing he had been drifting.
Not just that, but there was somebody near him.
“Olivia?” She had on a gray cloak and her hair was pulled back, hidden mostly beneath the hood, and he noticed the hint of a dagger strapped to her waist. She had a leather satchel with her, and she held her hand protectively against it.
“What are you doing sleeping here?” she snapped.
“Waiting for Bingham.”
“He’s not back yet?”
He swallowed, shaking his head. “He isn’t. You were captured?”
“Do you care if I was?”
“Yes. I didn’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, and he realized it was true. He didn’t want anything to happen to her.
“I wasn’t captured,” she said carefully. “I saw soldiers moving through the gardens, and I tried to signal to the two of you, but it was too late. You were already inside the palace and had been there for the better part of several minutes, so…”
Was that an act as well?
“You did the right thing,” he said.
“I did?” She looked up at him, frowning. “I would’ve expected you to be more upset.”
“Well, I’m upset that both Eastley and I were captured, and that we weren’t able to find what we went after.”
She glanced down at her satchel. “What was there?”
“Not what we needed.”
Her mask seemed to shatter. “Then we’re going to die here. Everyone,” she said, her voice a soft whisper.
“What do you mean?” There was something in the way she said it that suggested she meant more than just their team. More than just Olivia. “I didn’t think you cared about anybody other than yourself.”
“Is that really what you think of me?”
“You used me.”
“You let yourself be used,” she said softly. “And I had to. I thought…” She shook her head, looking away. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Why wouldn’t I understand?”
She looked back at
him, holding his gaze, a hint of defiance in her eyes. “I did what I had to. I thought I could be done with everything involving that statue, but Bingham… Well, I think he knew what happened. He always seems to know.” She breathed out slowly. “He paid me a fraction of what he would have paid you, I think.”
Ty never learned how much she had gotten paid for the sculpture. He knew what Bingham would’ve paid him, and it would’ve been a reasonable amount. He would have been more than willing to share some of that with Olivia.
“Why?” It was the only question he had, and one he wasn’t sure she would answer.
“My father owed Bingham money,” Olivia said.
Ty looked up at her. The darkness of night swirled around her, lingering around her face and giving her a haunted expression.
“He wanted to repay Bingham, but Bingham didn’t give him much of a choice,” she continued.
“He forced you to serve him?” That didn’t sound like his experience with Bingham at all.
“No,” Olivia said, a hard edge coming to her voice. “He didn’t force me to serve, and I don’t think he forced my father to serve, but I do think he was trying to get what my father owed him so he gave him an assignment. I knew I needed to step in.”
“I see,” Ty said. Bingham wasn’t tormenting Olivia’s father, but he was forcing him to steal.
That was one of Bingham’s tactics Ty had been disappointed to learn about. He hadn’t forced Ty to do the same, but he hadn’t needed to. While Ty didn’t owe Bingham any money, with his parents gone, Ty was poor and needed money, and when Bingham suggested there was a way to provide him with it, Ty had practically leapt at the opportunity.
“My father didn’t want to do it. He had trouble with the city already, and he feared that if he were to do it, he would end up getting drawn into something he wouldn’t be able to get out of.” Olivia closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I heard my parents arguing about it, and I came to Bingham to see if I could figure out a way to take care of my father’s debt.”
“You came willingly?”
Olivia nodded. “What choice was there? I didn’t want to see my father suffer.”
“Did your father know what you did for him?”
Path of the Flame (The Dragon Thief Book 1) Page 15