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

by Andy Peloquin

  Blood trickled from her palms, both cheeks, and her forehead. Her dark grey clothes bore holes and tears. But she was through.

  Allon stumbled from the hedge a full minute later. He’d suffered far worse than she but made no complaint as he crouched beside her.

  A broad swath of lawn stretched between them and the mansion. They had at least a hundred paces to cross, but lanterns arranged at intervals flooded the open space with light. If they moved out of the shadows of the hedge, the guards stationed on the balcony would spot them. Worse, this close to the mansion, the Arbitors passed at two-minute intervals.

  She slid to a seat. “We wait.”

  “For what?”

  She gave no reply. He wouldn’t understand. Had she not seen it with her own eyes the previous night, she’d have believed it insane.

  Time seemed to drag as she waited. Her eyes scanned the lawn for anything out of the ordinary. Any minute now.

  Fingers of mist seeped from the ground like ghosts rising from the grave. The fog grew thicker with every heartbeat, until she could no longer see the mansion. The light of the lanterns lost the battle against the obscuring gloom.

  Ilanna climbed to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  Mouth agape, Allon took a moment to move. Ilanna hid a grin. She’d had the same dumbfounded reaction watching from atop the neighboring mansion last night.

  “Stay close.”

  Ilanna dove into the bank of fog. Pinpricks of light indicated the presence of the lamps. She clung to the shadows between the pitiful patches of illumination and broke into a run. The mist would cover any sound she made. She had only to watch out for any guards and—

  She stopped cold, her hand snatching Allon’s arm and gripping hard.

  A muffled voice came from the shadows that moved through the fog a few paces away. “Every damned night this week!”

  “I said I’m sorry, Bort,” another voice responded. “It’s just a few more nights.”

  “Just a few more nights.” Bort mimicked his companion. “We’re stuck out in this miserable cold, wet fog because you’re too stupid to know not to piss off Captain Shem after a few drinks.”

  Ilanna didn’t catch the next muttered words. She retreated at an agonizingly slow pace. Even the slightest motion could attract the guards’ attention.

  The shadows of the Arbitors melted into the mist, but the pinprick of their lantern light and the muffled sound of their voices marked their presence. Giving the guards a wide berth, she pulled Allon toward the mansion—she hoped. The bank of fog made it impossible to see more than a few steps in any direction.

  Twice more they had to stop to avoid Arbitors. A knot formed between Ilanna’s shoulders, sending twinges down her spine. Anxiety set her hands trembling. The fog would dissipate within a few minutes. They had to cross the lawn before that happened.

  From one moment to the next, the shrouds of mist gave way to cool, clear darkness. A pair of Arbitors stood less than twenty paces away, backs turned to her. The circle of torchlight ended less than a hand’s breadth from her feet.

  With speed born of fear, Ilanna sprinted the remaining distance to the shrubbery that grew along the side of the building. She slid on damp grass, caught her footing, and stumbled into the shadows of a flowering bush. Heart thundering, she lay face-down on the wet earth and sucked in as much air as she dared.

  Allon slithered to the ground beside her a few moments later. He gave her a wild-eyed smile, and she felt laughter bubbling up from her chest. They’d done it!

  She pressed her lips to his ear. “We rest here. I’ll watch first. Your turn in four hours.”

  He shook his head. “No way I’ll sleep now.”

  Ilanna grinned. The excited tremor in her hands had traveled down her body to her legs. He spoke the truth—there was no way she could sleep either.

  * * *

  Not for the first time in the last few hours, Ilanna cursed herself for coming up with this plan. The cloaks kept out much of the night’s chill, but the moisture from the earth had soaked her clothes. Not even the rising sun had driven back the cold. They lay in the shade of Lord Auslan’s mansion, and morning dew covered the leaves of the bushes and trees around her. She couldn’t remember being this miserable in her life.

  Judging by Allon’s expression, he wasn’t enjoying the experience either. More than once, he lost the fight against the chattering of his teeth. They couldn’t rub their hands for warmth—couldn’t move a muscle. They could only lie on the cold, damp earth and pray for Lord Auslan to depart.

  Ilanna nearly wept when the Lady’s Bells tolled out the sixth hour of the morning. The Labethian Tournament would begin at the seventh hour. After what seemed an eternity in the frozen hell, the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels signaled the nobleman’s departure.

  Most of Lord Auslan’s Arbitors had ridden with him. According to her inside man, no more than fifteen would remain to guard the front gate and watch the grounds, wall, and riverside. After the next patrol passed, they’d have plenty of time to reach the servants’ entrance and slip into the house.

  Time moved as sluggishly as the chilled blood in Ilanna’s veins. The sound of Allon’s chattering teeth sent shivers down her spine. She abandoned caution long enough to bring her icy hands to her face and blow on them.

  She froze as the sound of tromping boots approached their hiding place. She’d chosen the thickest patch of bushes she could find, but the gardener kept the foliage near the mansion trimmed and neat. The overhanging trees provided far less cover than she’d like. If even one guard looked too closely, he would see the odd outlines of their cloaks.

  Every muscle in her body went taut. The moment of truth.

  The Arbitors didn’t pause in their patrol. They moved at the steady clip of men determined to complete their duty and get out of the cold. Ilanna relaxed and let out a long, silent breath.

  She nudged Allon’s shoulder and rose to her feet, wincing at the stiffness in her muscles. But, oh, how wonderful it felt to move again! She poked her head from the concealment of the bushes. The mansion hid them from view of the guards on the wall.

  With a quick glance around, she ran the thirty or so paces to the servants’ entrance as fast as her body permitted. She tapped thrice, waited two seconds, then tapped thrice again.

  A moment later, the door swung open, revealing the worry-lined face of Willem. “They know you’re coming!”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “What?”

  Willem pulled the door shut behind him. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Lem, what are you talking about? How do they know we’re coming?”

  Willem stabbed a finger toward the mansion. “Since yesterday, there’s been a flurry of activity. I overheard one of the Arbitors saying they were preparing for something—what, I don’t know, but it can’t be a coincidence that they bring in a score more Arbitors the night before your attempt.”

  Horror twisted like a knife in Ilanna’s gut.

  “What’s he doing here?” Surprise edged Allon’s voice.

  In her shock, Ilanna had forgotten about the Hound. “He’s been working for Lord Auslan since the beginning.” Yet another use for Lord Beritane. The nobleman’s recommendation had secured Willem the position. “He’s the one who drew the plans of the mansion’s interior.”

  “And if you saw those plans, you’d know we have to find another way in.” Willem shook his head. “They’ve got fifteen Arbitors stationed in the ballroom to guard the stairways, and another ten outside Lord Auslan’s bedroom. There’s no way I can sneak you in unseen. Our only hope’s to go in through the skylight in the bedroom.”

  Ilanna cursed. “We don’t have any gear!”

  Willem pointed toward the wall. “There’s rope in the garden shed. I’d have gone for it the moment I found out, but they’ve had us confined to our quarters all night. I just managed to sneak out a few minutes ago, once the Arbitors all headed to their positions.” He shook
his head. “I’m sorry. I wanted to warn you.”

  “Nothing you could’ve done.” Ilanna’s mind whirled. What in the Keeper’s name do we do now? “Say we get our hands on the rope, what then?”

  Willem winced. “I can try to sneak it up to the roof and drop it down here.”

  “Ilanna,” Allon interjected, “if they know we’re coming, they’ll be prepared for that. We have to reconsider.”

  Ilanna ignored him. “But what about the guards? Won’t they see you?”

  Willem took a deep breath. “I’ll have to risk it.”

  “Think about this, Ilanna.” Allon stepped between her and Willem. “We’re going to be sneaking into a mansion guarded by Arbitors who know we’re coming. That’s suicidal at best! We have to try this another time.”

  “No!” Ilanna bared her teeth in a snarl. “We’re going Lem’s way. It’s the only way we do what needs to be—”

  The servants’ entrance door opened and a pudgy, balding man appeared. His eyes widened at the sight of Ilanna and Allon in their odd outfits. He whirled on Willem with a glare. “You bastard! I knew your story was a lie. Gutter scum like you can never pass for a true—”

  Willem laid open his throat with a casual slash of a hidden blade. The fat servant gasped, choked, and gave a wet cough, clapping hands to his neck. Willem drove his dagger into the base of the man’s skull and shoved. The rotund corpse toppled into the bushes beside the entrance.

  Willem spat. “Rot in hell!” He met Ilanna and Allon’s gazes with a disgusted grunt. “Fat cunt had me beaten. ‘Insubordination’, he said when I told the majordomo what he was doing to the scullery maids.”

  “Willem!” Ilanna gaped at the Hawk’s bloodstained servants’ clothing. “You can’t go back in looking like that.”

  At that moment, a patrol of Arbitors appeared around the corner of the mansion. Willem muttered an oath. “Run!” He took off without waiting.

  Ilanna and Allon followed a heartbeat later. They sprinted across the open ground, heedless of the shouts and cries echoing from the patrol. Thankfully, the guards on the wall responded slowly. By the time they turned to see what was going on, Lem had dived into the gap in the blackthorn hedge. Ilanna pushed through without pause, not caring that the brier tore at her hands, face, and clothing. Allon’s grunting sounded behind her.

  She nearly ran into Lem, crouched in the shadow of a thick oak tree. “What now?”

  He turned to her, eyes wide. “I don’t know! I didn’t expect—”

  “The garden shed!” Allon hissed. “We flee through the sewers.”

  Ilanna stabbed a finger at the guards on the wall. “They’ll see us.”

  Lem shook his head. “Follow me. If we go through the thickest part of the garden, we can get into the shadow of the wall without being spotted. From there, we sneak into the shed.”

  “Go!”

  Ilanna followed Willem as he slithered through thick groves of trees, dense stands of bushes, and walls of flowering vines. The cries of alarm grew fainter as they moved away from the blackthorn hedge. If we’re lucky, the guards won’t discover the opening Lem carved for us.

  The Hawk had been serving in Lord Auslan’s mansion for weeks. He’d explored every nook and cranny of the enormous complex for the purpose of drawing the map he’d delivered. If anyone could find another way in, it would be him.

  Willem dashed across a clearing in the foliage and pressed himself against the base of the wall. After a moment, Ilanna and Allon followed suit.

  “Shed’s this way.” Clinging to the wall, he half-crouched, half-ran toward the wooden building. Only when they were safe within the garden shed did he pause to catch his breath and give her a huge grin. “Good to see you, Ilanna.”

  Ilanna threw her arms around her friend. “And you, too, Lem. How’d servant life treat you?”

  He grimaced. “Never again! Too much hard work.”

  Ilanna chuckled.

  Allon shook his head. “We’ll have time for that later. We need to go now!”

  Ilanna nodded and lowered herself into the mouth of the access shaft. She clambered down the metal rungs, switching on the alchemical beamer lamp they’d left the previous night. Willem leapt to the tunnel floor and moved aside. A quiet clang echoed above, and Allon appeared a few seconds later.

  “Think they’ll check the shed?”

  Willem shrugged. “Can’t say. They’re thorough, that’s for sure.”

  Ilanna cursed. “They’ll be on high alert for anything. We can’t go in this way again.” She drove her fist into the stone wall of the tunnel.

  “What if we go in the back way?”

  Ilanna whirled on Lem. “What? Through the Field of Mercy?”

  Willem nodded.

  “Are you insane?” Allon’s shout echoed in the tunnels. He winced and spoke in a quieter voice. “No one gets across the Field of Mercy.”

  “He’s right, Lem.” Ilanna gave a dismissive wave. “You know how dangerous it is.” She gave him a meaningful look.

  Willem’s face darkened. “I know what you’re not saying, Ilanna. Yes, the Field of Mercy took Werrin, but surely we can find another way.”

  “Let’s say we somehow manage to get across.” Ilanna rubbed her eyes. “We’re still going to have to deal with whatever guards are on patrol.”

  “I don’t think so.” Willem screwed his face into a frown of concentration. “As you say, no one’s ever crossed the Field of Mercy. The Arbitors are too smart to waste manpower patrolling a part of the mansion that doesn’t need guarding. Besides, whatever Arbitors aren’t waiting for us inside will be busy scouring the estate to find us. They know they’ve got all the exits covered, so they’ll think we’re just hiding out. They’ve a lot of ground to cover.”

  Ilanna’s mind raced. She’d spent hours studying the patrol patterns of the Arbitors inside the estate. Lem’s idea held merit.

  “Two problems.” She held up two fingers. “The Praamian Guards in Watcher’s Square and—”

  “Watcher’s Square will be empty.”

  Ilanna raised an eyebrow.

  Lem grinned. “You told me to listen to the Arbitors. One of them was boasting that the Duke was bringing him in to guard the Labethian Tournament. Evidently there weren’t enough Praamian Guards to handle the crowds. Said the Duke had to pull the guards off Watcher’s Square.”

  “That still doesn’t solve the problem of how to cross the Field of Mercy.”

  Allon sighed. “I think I might have a solution.”

  * * *

  “You going to tell me how you knew about the mist?” Ilanna whispered to Lem as they waited in Watcher’s Square for Allon to return.

  Lem grinned. “Shows up every night. Leah told me—”

  “Leah, eh?” Ilanna dug an elbow into his ribs. “Is that a sparkle I see in your eyes, Lem?”

  Lem blushed. “She says it’s something to do with a creek running beneath the ground. Like the water’s absorbed through the ground, up into the air.” He shrugged. “Truth be told, I couldn’t make sense of it. But I figured it’d come in handy.”

  Ilanna clapped him on the back. “More than you know.” She glanced at the sun. “Noon and Allon’s still not back.” She cursed.

  “If he don’t hurry, we’re never going to make it in and out in time.”

  “We?” Ilanna’s eyes narrowed. “No one but me’s going in.”

  “Get stuffed, Ilanna. This is as much for me as it is for you. Not a chance you’re doing this without me.” He gave her a wry grin. “Besides, you’ll need me in case you run into a few Arbitors.” The dagger—still stained with the fat servant’s blood—appeared in his hand.

  Ilanna eyed him, then glanced at the expanse of quicksand stretching between Watcher’s Square and the wall of Lord Auslan’s mansion.

  “Ilanna.” Willem’s tone grew grim. “For Werrin.”

  Ilanna sighed. “Damn you, Willem!”

  He grinned. “That’s the spirit. Now, if that Houn
d of yours will hurry up and—” He trailed off as Allon appeared down the street. “Bloody hell, that’s a big crossbow.”

  Indeed, the crossbow in Allon’s arms had a longer stock and broader arms than those used by the Praamian Guard. Judging by the perspiration streaming down his forehead, it had to weigh more as well.

  “That our way in?” Ilanna asked as he drew near.

  Panting, he nodded and set down his burden. “Saw this…on a job I did…at a loggers’ camp.” He leaned on his knees to catch his breath. “Lumberjacks use it to…climb into high treetops.”

  “But how’s that getting us across?” Lem pointed to the Field of Mercy. “Not a lot of trees around.”

  Allon rolled his eyes. “With this.” He produced a bolt with a metal tip as long as his hand. “This is an expanding head. The impact will drive the bolt into the wall and push out four hooks built into the tip. Give you a good grip.” His brow furrowed. “Problem is, it’s built for wood, not stone.”

  Ilanna squinted across the expanse of quicksand. “How’s your aim?”

  “Not the best, but I’ve seen worse. Have a target in mind?”

  “Well, I’m thinking you aim for that section of crumbling wall. The bolt should drive through the stone enough that it will give you a solid anchor.”

  Allon studied the section she pointed out. “Could work.” He bent and set a windlass to the cord. His arms pumped furiously, pulling the bow taut.

  Just then, a man in the dull, orange-trimmed clothing of House Fox rushed up the street. “Hound here said you needed some Foxes.”

  Ilanna nodded. “Diken, right? I need to send word to Veslund and Joost out front of Lord Auslan’s mansion, and to whichever Fox is working with Errik of House Serpent.”

  “That’ll be Elmar.”

  “Good. I need you to tell them to delay Lord Auslan’s return by whatever means possible.” The Labethian Tournament would be finished before the Lady’s Bells struck the third hour after noon. “Lord Auslan can’t be home any earlier than the evening bell. Use as many Foxes and Grubbers as you need. I’ll cover the day rates.”