Thief of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 2)

by Andy Peloquin

  “Well…” She twisted the blanket in her hands. She had to play this just right to get the information Master Gold wanted without arousing his suspicions. “I found myself thinking about the Bloody Hand’s offer.”

  His face fell. “That’s what was going through your mind as we—?”

  She smacked his thigh. “Before that, you fool.” She shook her head. “I know House Hound voted to accept, but what did you think of their offer?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “The vote was taken in confidence, remember?”

  “So?” She gestured around. “It’s not like we’re in public. Seems like this is as private as it gets. No one to hear but us.” She leaned forward, giving him an eyeful of her curves, and rested her chin against his upper thigh. “Or don’t you trust me?”

  “Now that’s not fair.” His face took on a wounded expression. “Not when you’re so close to my vulnerabilities.”

  She slid a hand up his muscular leg. “If you don’t want me to use it against you, start talking.”

  His leg tensed and his hips pressed forward.

  Her hand stopped mid-thigh. “Better yet, if you want me to continue, start talking.”

  “So not fair!” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to lie—the Bloody Hand’s offer definitely had House Hound divided. On the one hand, none of us could deny just how appealing the power they promised was.” His eyes sparkled. “Think about it: no more Field of Mercy, no more hangings or executions. You’ve heard the stories about Voramis, of how the Bloody Hand can do whatever the fiery hell they want with impunity.” The brightness in his eyes turned hard, cold. “I’ve lost too many friends to the Justiciars. You have, too. We had to consider it.”

  She wanted to scream at him. How could he be so blind by the allure of power? The Bloody Hand’s offer was like poisoned wine: a moment of pleasure before torment and death.

  “On the other hand,” he continued, as if unaware of the tension in her shoulders and the tightness around her mouth, “none of us wanted to concede power to the Bloody Hand. Praamis is our city, after all.” He met her gaze then. “It was a close decision but in the end, more Hounds wanted to accept than refuse.”

  “And you?” She studied his eyes for any hint of his thoughts.

  “Me?” Lines appeared at the corners of his mouth and his face grew carefully neutral. “I abstained.”

  “What?” Ilanna sat upright. “On such an important decision?”

  He shrugged. “I couldn’t decide which to vote for. I wrestled with the decision for as long as I could, but couldn’t figure out which was the lesser of two evils.”

  Ilanna stifled a derisive snort. She had no doubts which option would be worse. But Master Gold didn’t care about her opinions. He wanted to know which Hounds favored the decision. “Was it even close?”

  Allon’s eyes slid away and he shook his head. “Master Hound’s speech convinced a lot of the undecided. In the end, more than two thirds voted in favor.”

  Two thirds of House Hound. She couldn’t ask Allon for names but he’d given her more than enough information. Master Gold wouldn’t be pleased.

  “I take it you voted against?”

  She nodded without hesitation. “I’ve been to Voramis, remember? I’ve seen what they can do.”

  “I remember. You don’t talk about the job much, but I know you well enough to know that it wasn’t one you enjoyed.”

  She gave a dramatic shudder. She hadn’t actually spent more than a few days in Voramis. Denber had cooked up the story about a job that required a good deal of time and planning as cover for when she could no longer hide her pregnancy. She’d visited the city to show her face to the Guild contacts in Voramis, then slipped back into Praamis without letting anyone know. After recovering from Kodyn’s birth, she’d made her official “return” to the city. The loot she’d turned over to Bryden had come from Denber.

  “Walk the streets of the Beggar’s Quarter and you’ll see what I’m talking about. Not even The Tenement can compare.”

  Allon’s eyes went wide. Beggars, lepers, and the poorest of the city had turned the ten-block area known as The Tenement into Praamis’ hidden shame. Only the Beggar Priests and the Weeping Sisters entered the slums willingly. The nobility had submitted scores of petitions beseeching King Ohilmos to erect a wall around The Tenement.

  “That bad?”

  “Worse.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “I won’t have that for Praamis.”

  “So be it.” He sat up and took her hand. “Let me talk to the other Hounds, see if I can sway them.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Why? I thought you said you were undecided.”

  “Because it matters to you.” His expression grew earnest. “You’ve never lied to me, so if you say it’s that bad, I believe you. I can’t promise I’ll get results, but I can try.”

  Her reaction to his words surprised her. She’d gone into their relationship knowing full well she intended to use him. She’d encouraged his desire for her, gone out of her way to say and do things to help him develop genuine feelings. Yet she’d always maintained a distance in her mind. She saw him as a tool to be used and discarded at will. So why did her smile feel so real? She didn’t need to pretend gratitude, couldn’t fake the warmth spreading through her at the sincerity in his eyes. She almost felt…something.

  “Thank you.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her. The warmth faded, replaced by the icy chill that accompanied his touch. In another life, one without Sabat, there might have been something between them. But after what the Bloodbear had done to her, she couldn’t allow herself the weakness of feelings. Ethen’s death had torn out her heart, made her vulnerable when Sabat came for her. Allon’s gentle touch only served as a reminder of Sabat’s groping, pawing hands, his breath hot on her ear, the violence of his actions. She would never truly be comfortable in Allon’s presence—she’d learned firsthand what men were capable of.

  She broke off the kiss and smiled to cover her revulsion. “Much as I’d love for you to stay, I’ve got a few errands to run in preparation for tomorrow.”

  Disappointment flashed through his eyes. “And here I thought we were making such good progress.”

  Leaning over, she placed a kiss on his lips. “We were. Don’t think I’ll forget what you’ve promised to do for me.” She stood slowly, giving him a chance to admire her form before wrapping a sheet around herself. “But if I don’t go now, I’m going to fall asleep.” She gave him a wink. “I’ve had a pretty adventurous evening.”

  Allon rolled from the bed with a grin. “Fair enough.” He shrugged into his clothing. “I’ll take full responsibility for that.”

  She held the door open for him. “See you tomorrow?”

  He winked at her. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store for us next.” With a grin, he slipped out of her room.

  Ilanna pressed the door shut and, shuddering, turned to the wash basin. She had to be rid of his smell before she went home.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ilanna cast a glance over her shoulder for the hundredth time in the last hour. She’d detoured halfway across the city, doubled back on her path thrice, and descended to the streets half a dozen times. She hadn’t spotted anyone following her across the Hawk’s Highway or through the busy avenues she’d chosen specifically to shake pursuit.

  The discovery of the latest note had shaken her. She hadn’t wanted to risk Kodyn or Ria by visiting the house without taking proper precautions, but she couldn’t stay away any longer. She needed to see her son, to take him into her arms and hold him close. The next phase of her plan to bring down Duke Phonnis would occupy all her time. This could be her last chance to see Kodyn for a few weeks. She refused to allow herself to ponder what would happen if the job failed.

  Tugging the hood farther forward to hide her face, Ilanna dropped into the alleyway near Old Town Market. There was always the chance a Fox or Bloodbear would spot her, but sh
e had to risk it.

  A brightly painted wooden soldier caught her eye as she slipped through the crowded marketplace. She laughed at the sum the merchant quoted and, after a minute of bargaining, walked away with the toy for a quarter of the initial price.

  Ducking into an alleyway beyond Old Town Market, Ilanna crouched in the shadows and studied the bustling square. For half an hour she remained there, hidden by a stack of pallets, watching the street with a wary eye.

  A part of her insisted she was just being paranoid. No one could possibly know where she was. Only two or three Journeymen had the skill to follow her convoluted path across the rooftops. A Serpent or Hound could track her through the streets, but she’d taken a route so circuitous she’d have lost any but the cleverest of Hawks.

  The minutes dragged by. Her house stood just a few short paces away, but she couldn’t go, not yet. She had to be certain she wasn’t followed. She wouldn’t take chances. A nagging in the back of her mind knew she had to be cautious. Those notes hadn’t simply appeared in her room by magic. If someone could slip into House Hawk and bypass her locks, they had to have the skill to track her.

  After an hour of watching, she’d had enough. She’d spotted a few of the White Fox apprentices and a pair of Bloodbear Fifth Claws, but no one else. Pulling the cloak over her face, she shuffled across the street, ducked around the corner, slipped the key into the lock on her front gate. She backed in, casting one final glance up and down the street before closing the gate.

  The door to her house flew open and a willowy figure appeared. The noonday sun glinted off bared steel.

  “Easy, Ria.” She drew back her hood. “It’s just me.”

  The tension in Ria’s face smoothed, and she sheathed the knife.

  “Mama?” A childish voice sounded from within the house. A moment later, Kodyn hurtled from the door and sped toward her. “Mama!”

  Ilanna’s worries melted away as she scooped her child into her arms and held him tight. Kodyn’s arms gripped her neck. She drew in a deep breath, reveling in the scent of his long, dark hair.

  “You’re home, Mama.”

  “Yes, baby, I’m home.”

  Kodyn squirmed in her arms, frowning. “I’m not a baby, Mama.”

  “You’ll always be my baby, even when you’re as old as Mama.” She set him down and took a long look at him. “What have you been doing?”

  The boy gave her an excited smile and held up one sticky, brown-stained hand. “Ria’s teaching me to make cacao cake!” He licked a finger. “It’s delicious.”

  “Cacao cake?” Ilanna glanced up at the dark-skinned girl, who lounged in the shadows of the porch.

  Ria smiled. “A special treat.”

  “Want to see, Mama?” Kodyn shoved a batter-covered hand in hers and tugged her toward the house.

  Ilanna allowed herself to be dragged. Her eyes widened as she entered the kitchen. “What happened here?” A heavy dusting of flour covered the chairs, table, and floor.

  Kodyn giggled. “We’re having fun!”

  “I can see that.” She lifted him before he stepped in a pile of spilled flour. “A bit too much fun, perhaps?”

  “Ria says we’re almost done, then we get to put it in the oven!” Kodyn thrust a chubby finger at their small brick oven.

  Ilanna turned to Ria. “Want me to build the fire while you finish…” She looked at the chaos in the kitchen. “…whatever this is?”

  Ria laughed. “Yes, thank you.”

  Ilanna struggled to hide her surprise. She’d never heard Ria laugh. The sound was bright and melodic, like the Lady’s Bells on festival day, and held genuine mirth. For a moment, the shadows had retreated from Ria’s eyes and the girl she’d once been peered through. Ilanna caught a glimpse of the same happy, carefree spirit she’d once possessed, before the Night Guild.

  She busied herself with starting a fire, only half-listening to Kodyn’s chatter as he helped Ria mix the ingredients. The young girl didn’t seem to mind that Kodyn spilled half the bowl’s contents. With gentle hands, she helped the boy stir the mixture and pour the batter into the baking pan.

  Ilanna cleaned while Ria and Kodyn waited for the cake to cook. The boy sat perched in his high chair, alternating between licking the wooden mixing spoon clean and waving it like an imperious monarch. Ilanna couldn’t help laughing at the sight of his stained face and hands.

  Finally, after Kodyn had asked “Is it ready yet?” for the tenth time, the cake came out of the oven. Ilanna’s eyebrows shot up as the smooth, rich flavor of the cake filled her mouth. “Sweet Mistress!” She dug her spoon into the cake for another bite. “This is amazing!”

  Ria’s smile returned. “My mother’s recipe, and my baby sister’s favorite.” A shadow passed over her eyes and she dropped her gaze to the table.

  “It’s the most delicious cake I’ve ever tasted. What’s in it?”

  Ria lifted a cloth-wrapped packet from the table and passed it to Ilanna. “Cacao nibs, straight from Ghandia.” The girl spoke with an exotic, almost musical accent Ilanna found intriguing.

  “How have I never heard of this cah-cah-oh before?” The nib’s bittersweetness tantalized her taste buds, yet had a soothing, luxurious flavor she found almost sensual.

  “Ghandian secret.” Ria gave her a sly smile. “Very hard to find in Praamis.”

  Ilanna took another bite of cake to mask her surprise. Ria had spoken more words in the last minute than in the last month. She seized the opportunity to draw the girl out more. “So where did you get it?” She studied the nibs. “Where can I find more?”

  Ria shook her head. “You cannot. Ghandians will only sell it to another Ghandian.”

  “Is that where you are from?” Ilanna had longed to ask Ria about life before the slavers, but the girl had never seemed willing to speak about it. Until now. “Tell me about Ghandia.”

  Ria’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Ghandia is not like Praamis. No big city, no houses all packed together. No wicked men to tie you up and drag you away from home.”

  Ilanna held her breath, not daring to speak for fear Ria would clam up again. But when Ria didn’t continue, she prodded, “What was the land like?”

  Ria spoke in a quiet voice. “Plains and grasslands, as far as the horizon. Trees and bushes with fruits, berries, and cacao fruit.”

  Ilanna held up a cacao nib. “This comes from a fruit?”

  Ria nodded. “The fruit is good for eating, but the best part is the beans. Cacao, they are called. ‘Gift of the gods’ in the ancient tongue of the Serenii, my mother told me.”

  Kodyn tugged on her sleeve. “Mama, I get down?”

  Ilanna helped Kodyn from his seat without taking her eyes from Ria. Now that she had the girl talking, she had to encourage her to continue. “And your mother, she taught you to make this?” She lifted a spoonful of cake to her lips.

  “She did. Much more besides. Hunting and dressing the kill. Foraging for food in the barren grasslands. Digging to find the earth’s bounty. Weaving rushes to make beds, roofs, and shields for the warriors. Wielding the assegai and makrigga spear, and dancing the Kim’ware war dance.”

  Ilanna felt a stab of envy. She had lost her mother at seven years old—for all Ria had endured, in many ways, she’d had a better life. But she quickly shoved the emotion aside. She finally had Ria talking.

  A child’s cry pushed all other thoughts from her mind. Her head whipped around.

  “Kodyn!” Her mind registered the scene in a terrified heartbeat. Kodyn had fallen and tried to catch himself by seizing the oven, still hot from the cake. The child stared down at his hand with wide eyes and a shrill of pain.

  Keeper, no! Ilanna leapt up, Ria a heartbeat behind. She scooped Kodyn into her arms and rushed over to the bucket of water used to wash dishes. As she plunged Kodyn’s hand into the water, she turned to Ria. “Get me lavender oil.”

  “No.” Ria shook her head and darted from the room. Ilanna watched her go, mouth hanging open. Had R
ia just told her no? She pulled Kodyn tighter, rocking him in an effort to calm his wailing.

  “Easy, Kodyn. Everything will be okay.”

  The boy’s crying grew more strident.

  Ilanna clutched her son to her chest, rocking him and whispering soothing words. “Shh, be brave my little hawk. Mama will make it all better.”

  Ria returned a moment later with a fleshy, serrated leaf. “Aloe. To soothe the burn and ease the pain.”

  Ilanna held out a hand.

  “Not yet.” Ria set down the aloe and darted into the kitchen for a bucket. “Water first, to cool and stop the swelling.”

  Ilanna couldn’t hide her surprise at the change that had come over Ria. The girl’s hesitance disappeared, replaced by confidence and a tone of command. She knelt and plunged Kodyn’s hand into the bucket, all the while stroking the boy’s hair and murmuring something in an unfamiliar language. The singsong tone calmed the boy, and his crying quieted to a pained snuffle. After fifteen minutes, she applied the sticky goo of the aloe leaf to the burn, moving with deft confidence.

  Ilanna wrestled with her envy once more. Ria had such a natural way with Kodyn, and the boy responded to her.

  But she couldn’t fault either Ria or Kodyn. The three of them needed each other and, though the arrangement was less than ideal, it was all they had. For now.

  “Look, my little hawk.” She produced the ebony hawk figurine from her pouch. “Look what Mama brought you.”

  Kodyn took the bird with his uninjured hand and cradled it to his chest.

  “Do you want Mama to read you a story?” She had nowhere to be until the sun set.

  Kodyn’s tear-stained face popped up, and he gave her a bright smile. “The one about Agarre the Giantslayer?”

  Ilanna grinned. “If you want.” She carried Kodyn to the stuffed armchair in the sitting room—the one where her mother had spent hours teaching her to sew—and settled into a comfortable position. A book sat on the table next to the chair. She flipped to the first page of Agarre’s story. “Once upon a time, there was a young girl who lived in a small village. Agarre was her name. She learned to sew, to milk the cows, to cook and clean, and to gather wheat with her father, mother, and five older brothers.”