Daughter of Wolves

by Stephanie Anthony

  “What?”

  “How long have you and Pips been an item?”

  Blue looked up at the clouds, “Nearly five years now.” He glanced back at Tyler suspiciously, “Why are you interested?”

  “There’s someone…I’ve just been thinking about it recently. Relationships and that.” Tyler didn’t know what possessed him to speak of it, he was probably still drunk.

  While his confession hadn’t been the clearest, it was certainly enough to have sparked Blue’s imagination. His eyes were shining, and he had the strangest grin plastered on his face, “Who is it?”

  Tyler caught sight of Anya nearby, and immediately shut the conversation down. “Never mind. Thanks, I’ll catch you later.”

  ~

  It took most of the morning for the hangover to wear off, and by the time it did Tyler wasn’t left much chance to get into town, but he decided to take the risk. In return for getting her compass back Irena had given him a generous bonus, a little cherry on top of his usual earnings. He’d been coping with handmade odds and ends for too long, he was a Master Thief for gods sake, he needed a proper kit.

  Obviously in order to obtain this he had to go to the shadier side of town, the black market. There were certain things you didn’t see on the cleaner street corners. It didn’t take him long to find it, there was a certain pattern the black markets followed. They were rarely in the same place more than once, and they had a very temporary feel to them. Most vendors spread their wares on blankets, ready to gather them up and make a run for it should any of the watch show up. Not that the watch put up all that much of a fight. The black market made money, and clever traders knew which pockets to line.

  Tyler spotted a likely looking stall, ran his fingers over the picks on display. He wouldn’t buy any of these, but in all likelihood there were others that hadn’t been put out. The vendor appeared, purplish smoke curling from an ivory pipe.

  “Good taste sir.”

  “I’d prefer a Snatch kit.”

  “You got the coin for it?”

  Tyler shook his pocket in response, keeping his eyes on the man’s hands as he rifled in his bag. The proffered kit was more like it, but not anything as good as the one he’d lost. But he’d got that kind of service only after showing his mark. He couldn’t do that now. The vendor was murmuring about rumours someone had broken into the council chambers at Whitecliff posing as a judge, Tyler attempted to seem innocently interested.

  “Anything taken?”

  “Not that they’ve noticed. But I’ve got my theories.” He took another puff of his pipe, tapped his nose. “They say Crimson is on the loose again. Last word I heard was that he’d snuffed it, but not much gets past me. Someone like that don’t get caught out by a rope around his neck.”

  Tyler counted out what he owed, tipped it into the man’s hand. “Oh, really?”

  He checked the coins, nodded as they disappeared into his pocket. “Considering the tools you’re purchasing, just thought you should know. Whitecliff ain’t too far from here.”

  “Cheers.” Tyler tossed the man an extra coin. He knew how this worked by now. The vendor would think he was doing him a favour. If he didn’t tip it would raise suspicion. But the look in the man’s eye told Tyler that he at least had no idea what he was talking about, or who he was talking to. Just whispers on the grapevine that had reached him. Colours were the code of the thieves after all, not of merchants, even those who traded in the shadows.

  Tyler was still considering the traders words when a familiar shrill whistle broke through his reverie. “Jailbird, over here.”

  Her hair was enough of a beacon, bright blue against the shadows of the alleys.

  “Jackie, what are you doing in here?” He surreptitiously made sure his purchase wasn’t on show, though if she was in the black market she’d have as much reason for keeping her mouth shut as he did.

  “Having tea with the inlaws, what do you think?” She smiled though. “I was selling today so I wont be stupid enough to get out my wallet, especially in the presence of a thief.” Jackie nodded to the wider streets of the town, “Actually Captain asked me to keep an eye out for you, there’s a job she wants us to gather for.”

  Tyler didn’t ask, it was probably better not to. He let Jackie take the lead, sought out a topic of conversation that wasn’t her missing eye.

  “It’s okay, you can ask.”

  “When did you get your tattoos?”

  Jackie chuckled, “I used to be part of a circus, well, the freakshow. The tattooed lady. This one’s the only real one I’ve got though, the rest were painted on. It was for my other act, before my eye. After that though the ringmaster liked me for my patch. He thought it made me fascinating, so he kept me on.”

  She dodged a stall, nodding to the keeper with a finger to her brow. She certainly wasn’t a stranger to these markets. “I really don’t like to talk about it. It’s embarrassing more than anything else.” Jackie laughed but carried on anyway, “It was an accident. I was originally part of the trapeze artists. One show I fell, managed to jab myself in the eye with the umbrella I used as part of my act. I was lucky really that it didn’t get any further. Could have been worse.” Jackie popped up her patch and Tyler was unable to keep himself from looking, if just out of morbid curiosity.

  It was a rather human notion, to look even when some part of you didn’t want to. It was better than he’d expected, which was a relief as well as strangely disappointing. Her eyelid had been stitched shut, a nasty scar stretching across it.

  She carried on, “So I was put with the freaks. It wasn’t too bad, we got paid pretty well, but I’m not much of a sit around and do nothing sort of girl, so Irena shows up, doesn’t give a crap that I can only see out of one eye, and offers me something a hell of a lot more interesting than spending four hours each day getting painted.”

  “Four hours?”

  “Oh yeah, they were very thorough.” She glanced up, “Here we go.”

  Cat flicked her beads between her fingers, stopping as Jackie skidded up beside her. Tyler risked a glance at Irena, marking the smile that curled on her lips. She shoved her way into the bar, her entourage following close behind. Tyler found a gap beside Ollie, the young Wolf greeting him with a smile before falling into a more serious expression than usual, and actually keeping quiet for once. He was like this in raids too, busy concentrating rather than coming up with his normal running commentary.

  Her nail made a hard thunk as it connected with her hat, flicking it up so that her features were basked in lamplight. She grinned. The one which even made some primal part of Tyler think ‘oh shit’. It had a more interesting effect on the landlord. He moved fast, Tyler could credit him that much, but Negrita and Anya moved faster.

  Anya slammed his wrist against the counter, kicking away the pistol that he’d grabbed for, the second he’d recognised Irena’s features. They pinned his arms at his back, one hand poised on each shoulder, bending him over his own bar. Negrita looked like she’d be more than happy to smash his face into it should he misbehave any further.

  Tyler glanced at Malcolm. “Remind me what this guy did again.”

  The accountant smiled, “He owes Captain money.”

  “Ah.” Tyler grimaced, “Don’t ever let me get into her debt.”

  “You already are.” Malcolm laughed, straightening his expression as he noted Jim’s glare. Irena on the other hand hadn’t bothered to take her eyes off of her prey.

  She raised her voice slightly, “For those of you edging towards the exit, I’d advise you to move a little faster.”

  The door whacked against the wall more than once as the place cleared out. The bar keep strained, but didn’t escape Anya and Negrita’s clutches.

  “Are you feeling quite well Mr Hansen? No issues of late that could explain your recent bout of forgetfulness?”

  “I was gonna pay.”

  “ ‘Was gonna’ doesn’t help you or I at this moment in time.”

 
“Please, I have most of it. In the safe back there. I can pay the rest. I promise.”

  “Malcolm.”

  At Irena’s barked order the accountant headed for the back, catching the key Anya tossed to him. The captain waited, nobody spoke. There was the clatter of coins on a wooden surface, the grate of them sliding as they were counted. “20 golds. That’s your lot.” Malcolm called out.

  Irena closed her eyes, nodded. “Then you pay the rest on interest. You have one month.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Have you had any trouble with raiders? Visits from the psychopath going round and attacking barmaids? Sign of the Pitsen crew, who for your information are in the area as we speak? No, because I am protecting you. If you’d rather I didn’t then just say the word, but I can promise you that there are a lot of worse things than me out on these seas.”

  “Okay okay, but two months, please. I’m begging you.”

  “Two months – if you tell me what Clarke is up to.”

  “What makes you think I know anything about that?”

  “Don’t mark me as a fool Mr Hansen, I know the seal on that crate.”

  “Fine. The Kiln Armada is making for a power grab.”

  “In my waters?”

  “He’s old school.”

  Irena grinned again, teeth flashing. She tipped her hat, “My thanks Mr Hansen, we shall be on our way now. See you in two months.”

  Anya and Negrita released their grips, Jim unloading Mr Hansen’s pistol for him, tossing the bullets into a far corner of the room, should he get any ideas. From the defeated look on the landlord’s face he was done fighting back. The thing was, Irena had used nothing but reason. Everything she’d said made sense, especially to a businessman. You had to pay for protection, and if you didn’t you could end up in a lot more trouble. It was a gamble Tyler had seen go wrong all too often. He didn’t know pirates played this game though. This work stank of thieves.

  Red hair fell into place beside him. “Wondering why I had you called in to witness that?”

  “No, more why pirates are using thief tactics to break even. You could get into trouble should that spread you know. Thieves don’t like competition on the playing field.”

  “Hansen is good for it.”

  “I’ll remember that when I hear your name on the lists.”

  “Those marked by the thieves? Oh they wouldn’t dare.”

  “The name Wolf can only protect you so much.”

  “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to warn me.”

  “If you knew me better you might listen.”

  Blue watched the captain move forward, Tyler catching Anya’s eye then look away. He caught Pip’s arm, lowered his voice. “Have you noticed him being a bit more, awkward than usual?”

  She looked at Tyler, back to Blue, “No, why?”

  Blue glanced around again, noted if anyone was close enough to listen in. Tyler hadn’t exactly told him not to speak of it, but he had kind of promised himself he wouldn’t get involved. It wasn’t any of his business after all. But he’d started now, and Pips would have it out of him. “He mentioned to me the other day, well he asked me about me and you.”

  Her expression darkened, her voice slipping into a growl. “What about us?”

  “Nothing like that – just that he’d been thinking about relationships and that. He looked like he’d wanted to say more, but Anya came by and he stopped talking. He hasn’t mentioned anything about it since, but…”

  “You think him and Anya?”

  “She climbed the mast for him.”

  Pips’ brow creased in thought. He’d been afraid of that. She was scheming. If he’d been unwilling to get involved Pips certainly didn’t feel the same reluctance.

  “You can’t tell her.”

  “I know, I know.”

  Chapter 13

  The cost of recognition

  Tyler dodged under the arm of the man before him, not even bothering to glance behind. He knew Blue would take care of it if anyone tried to stop Tyler from doing his job. After Irena had confirmed for herself that he was truly a rather skilled thief, she had decided he would be of better use in raids doing what he did best. The fight served as the distraction, if the other crew were clever they’d take note of the figure stepping through the carnage without a care. Tyler didn’t even bother to hold a sword anymore. Blue and Milon were there for insurance purposes more than anything, defending him from anyone with enough brain to wonder what Tyler was up to.

  He moved fast, his steps sure and swift. Soon enough he made it onto the other ship. Here things tended to get a little trickier. But you didn’t last long as a thief if you didn’t know how to blend into a crowd. He’d disappear before anyone even spotted him, heading below deck or to the captain’s quarters – wherever his intuition told him would be most profitable. It didn’t tend to be wrong.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered over to the door under the top deck. No one paid him any attention. The crew of Siren’s Call had made it over, only Jim passed him a swift nod. He leaned back, tried the handle, and was in. He shut the door. Now it was just him and a handful of hiding places. Tyler smiled to himself, slipping his kit out of his jacket. This was the part he liked most. It was like a game of hide and go seek.

  He unrolled the canvas pack and selected two narrow tools, crouching to work at the lock. Though he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed, he worked quickly. In no time he had a number of likely looking locked cabinets opened, but nothing of value. He sighed through his nose, worrying at his lip. Then his eye caught a panel of wall.

  Tyler tilted his head.

  There was something about the way it caught the light, the shadows around it looked different.

  He padded over with barely a sound, resting his palm against the wood. He felt it move to the pressure he put on it. Tyler smiled, knocked it with his knuckle, and felt for the catch. His picks opened it in seconds. Inside the hidden panel were a number of interesting items, a couple of small chests which were rather heavy, a few sizable jewels, but of more interest to Tyler, a few folded pieces of parchment and a couple of books of records. Paper that had been locked in a safe was always valuable. Much more so than the golden coins that took up the chests, albeit he didn’t hesitate at slipping a few into his pocket.

  Tyler unfolded the parchments, checking their contents before tossing a couple back into the safe, and pocketing a few others. Learning to read had been the most intelligent thing he’d ever done. He tucked the records under an arm, kicking the safe door shut behind him, and scooping up his roll of picks, shoving them into another pocket.

  Jim spotted him the moment he exited the meet room, stuck his fingers to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, which was answered with a similar greeting. The crew redoubled their efforts as he made his way back across the deck, back to Siren’s Call.

  Irena leapt down from the rigging, holding her hand out for whatever he had managed to find. Her swords were both sheathed at her back, not that she was vulnerable to attack – Anya and Negrita saw to that. She unfolded the first piece, grinned, then nimbly hopped over the balustrade, striding over to the other captain, kicking his sword from his trembling hand, and brandishing the paper in his face.

  “Want to explain why you seem to be on such cosy terms with the captain of the Yellow Belly? If I’m not mistaken they’re part of the Fawn allegiance – and,” she laughed slightly, “–I do believe they’re your sworn enemies are they not? And here you are revealing, well, everything to him.”

  “What, where did you get those?”

  “My thief here found them in your cabin.” She narrowed her eyes as the captain paled, “Or are you going to try to convince me that you’re not a traitor to your own crew?”

  He turned a rather good shade of green. “What do you want?”

  “Surrender, hand over everything of value, and think carefully about how you react the next time this ship crosses your path. I am no
t forgiving to those who are stupid enough to stand against me more than once. I’ll let your crew decide what to do with you now.” She screwed the papers into a ball and shoved them into his mouth.

  ~

  Irena pushed the bottle across the table to him, “Go on, you’ve earned it.”

  “The good stuff? My you do treat me well.” Tyler took the bottle despite his sarcasm, gulping down a great swig of it. It warmed him all the way through to his fingertips, there was a chill to the air tonight – he hadn’t realised he’d been cold. He wiped a corner of his sleeve along his mouth, making himself comfortable in one of the chairs. It was rare for them to start these particular proceedings with conversation, but from her posture she was deep in thought, and for once looked like she actually wanted to talk to him first.

  “There’s something I need you to do. If you think you can.”

  “Do tell.” He kicked his feet up, resting the heels of his boots on the edge of the table. He drew a pack of cards from his pocket, began shuffling them absentmindedly.

  Irena’s brow furrowed, then she began, “You remember Mr Hansen, what he said about power plays?”

  “Clarke.”

  “He keeps a few warehouses on Z’aar, a port city not far from here. Some of the pricier merchandise that he likes to store up before he sells off in bulk. Hansen had some of it on his premises. The most valuable stuff for him is the booze, whiskey and rum. Lets say you had to break into a guarded warehouse where items like that were stored. Is that something you could achieve?”

  Tyler grinned, “I can break into anything, Captain.”

  “And getting rid of the merchandise?”

  “Depends what you mean by ‘get rid’. If you want to take the property for yourself things get trickier. If you just want it unusable,” he paused, flicking the cards from palm to palm, “that would certainly be achievable.”

  ~