“Three minutes left, Priest. How do I get into the Grand Reckoner’s office? He’s got something stored there I want.”
“He doesn’t store anything there!” Tyren cried out. “There’s nothing of importance to anyone but him in his office.”
“So tell me where he keeps the really important things.” She leaned over him. “Things like Duke Phonnis’ private documents.”
The priest’s eyes went wide. “I-I can’t!” His breath came in wheezing gasps. “The Reckoner’s…oath.”
“Better a living oathbreaker than a dead fool.” She shook the glass bottle. “Time’s running out.”
The priest coughed, vomited again, and groaned. “Please!”
“Choice is yours. I’d give you a minute to decide but you don’t have that. Tell me before it’s too late.”
“Damn…you!” He struggled for each breath, and pain twisted his features. “Hidden…lift carriage. Door…in his…office.”
Ilanna narrowed her eyebrows. “How can I be sure you’re telling the truth? Not just saying what I want to hear so I’ll give you the antidote?”
“Swear…by… Apprentice!” His voice came out in a weak gasp as his strength faded. “Told…truth.”
“Good.” She stepped back.
Tyren’s face took on a terrible pallor. “An…ti…dote!” He strained toward the bottle in her hands.
“Oh, this?” She shook her head, opened the lid, and poured a few drops down the priest’s throat. “This is just a little drink I brought along. This sort of thing always makes me so thirsty.” She emptied the rest of the fruity white wine into her mouth. “Hits the spot.”
Tyren shrieked, a weak, pathetic sound like a dying animal. His body twitched as the poison set in, and he thrashed against his bonds. His wheezing faded to a quiet gasp, a harsh rattle, and silence.
Ilanna turned away from the corpse. Both of the Foxes remained in their seats. Shock and horror filled Joost’s eyes and Veslund had gone pale. She ignored them, facing Errik instead.
“Can you dispose of him?”
The Serpent stared at her, his face hard, eyes flat and dead as his House’s namesake.
“We had to.” Ilanna met his gaze without flinching. “We kidnapped a high-ranking priest from inside the temple. I couldn’t take the risk he’d talk. The Reckoners wouldn’t have stopped coming until they had their vengeance.”
Errik gave her a stiff nod.
“Get rid of the body and everything else in here. He can’t be found. Ever.”
Chapter Twenty
NOT FOR THE first time tonight, Ilanna cursed the watchman. One hundred ten paces, she repeated in her mind. Not even halfway there.
She drew a deep breath and waited for the guard to move on.
After far too long, the light faded around a row of shelves and Ilanna resumed counting. She struggled to keep her pace measured when she wanted to race through the darkened records room. She’d learned to get in and out quickly, not hang around waiting to get caught. But if Darreth and Allon’s suspicions proved true, she’d have found what she sought.
If only this didn’t take so damn long!
Forced to duck out of sight every time the guard passed, she’d lost her count twice. Much longer and she’d miss her deadline. She had to return to the storage room before the Lady’s Bells tolled the third hour before midnight.
Let’s hope Errik has better luck with his task.
The Serpent hadn’t said two words since he returned from disposing of the Reckoner’s corpse. His dead-eyed stare and the tightness of his face spoke volumes.
I did what I had to. She’d had no desire to slip the cyanide into the wine pitcher while all eyes focused on her tools of torture. But what choice did she have? I can’t risk anyone finding out what we’re doing.
Errik might not approve but she knew he understood. If he needed time to accept it, she’d give it to him. Just as soon as they completed this job.
Her excitement mounted as she reached three-hundred fifty steps and the western wall drew closer. She half-ran the last dozen paces. Yes! Three-hundred and ninety six. The secure records room ended, but the public storage section continued for another fifty or sixty paces. She didn’t bother trying to do the figures in her head—Darreth would do the sums and tell her how much space was missing. She only cared that the Hound and Scorpion had been correct.
She called a picture of Allon’s map to her mind and made the mental annotations to include the missing space.
Blueprint #2:
Heart pounding, she slipped through the rows of shelves and cabinets and up the stairs toward the second floor. Every shred of self-control went into keeping her steps quiet and measured. When the door to the storage room finally closed behind her, she turned to Errik with an elated grin. “Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air. “What did you find?”
Pressing a finger to his lips, he motioned for her to follow. They slithered down the lightless corridor, ears attuned for even the slightest sound. Sweat trickled down her back and moistened her palms. Errik half-flung her down a corridor as the tread of booted feet filled the passageway. She pressed herself flat against the wall, pulling her dark grey cloak over her face. She had no desire to deal with another Reckoner.
The minutes dragged by as they slithered down the hallway. After what seemed an eternity, Errik pulled her into another unlit room piled high with furniture. He thrust a finger at the room’s northern wall. “This is it.”
Ilanna drew her quickfire globes and held them up. Simple, unadorned stone met her gaze. The section of wall resembled every other part of the temple.
“You’re sure?”
Errik nodded. “Room’s right up against the western wall, as far north as I can find. Has to be it.”
Ilanna opened her mouth to speak, but the tolling of the Lady’s Bells cut her off. The second peal had already faded before she realized. Heart lurching, she fumbled in the bags at her feet. She seized a stonemason’s hammer and pounded at the stone wall. One strike for each peal of the bells. Too late, Errik rushed to join her.
The ninth ring echoed across the city and fell silent. With a curse, Ilanna flung the hammer onto a stuffed armchair. She raised the quickfire globes. Her rushed strikes had scratched the stones and chipped a small crack in the masonry.
“Damn it!” Pacing off the temple had taken longer than she’d anticipated. They’d arrived in the room too late.
“Easy.” Errik placed his hammer on the floor beside the wall. “We’ve got until midnight.”
Ilanna ground her teeth. “That’s cutting it too close.” The twelve peals of the Lady’s Bells would cover the sound of the hammers striking stone, but if they didn’t get through with twelve strikes—a feat even a skilled mason would find challenging—they’d have to wait until the third hour. There was a very real chance they wouldn’t make it through tonight.
And the wall was only the first obstacle. If the Chief Reckoner had spoken the truth, they would find an elevator shaft beyond. The Grand Reckoner’s office sat on the top floor; he’d descend to the hidden chamber. How far down the shaft went, she had no idea. In addition to mason’s tools, she’d brought enough rope for a four-story drop. She had to hope they had enough and the shaft didn’t drop below the ground floor.
Errik settled into a comfortable chair and closed his eyes. Ilanna couldn’t bring herself to relax. She paced, gaze fixed on the wall, fists clenching and unclenching. What am I supposed to do for three gods-damned hours?
She held the quickfire globes up and ran her hands over the wall. Her fingertips traced the scratches and chips left by her hammer. She’d done little more than score the masonry. One blow, however, had gouged away a section of mortar the depth of her little fingernail. She could work with that.
Crouching, she fumbled in the bag of tools and drew out a slim chisel. She inserted the diamond-point tool into the narrow hole and scratched at the mortar. Dust peppered the ground as she worked at the crack. Slowly,
the hole grew wide enough for her to insert a broad-headed chisel.
Her hands ached from the effort but she refused to stop. She had three hours to weaken as much of the wall as she could. Hope surged within her. They could make it!
The scratch, scratch of steel on stone echoed loud in the room. She couldn’t take chances anyone outside would hear.
She hissed at Errik, “Go keep watch.”
Errik positioned himself by the door and nodded for her to resume.
She sucked in a breath as the rough steel chisel tore her gloves and sliced her flesh. The crack widened at an agonizing pace. Once she’d scraped away the mortar around the first stone, she moved to the next. She couldn’t drive the chisel deeper without a hammer but she could broaden the seam in the wall. Perhaps, she could weaken it enough to break through under the cover of the Lady’s Bells.
Sweat trickled down her forehead and mixed with the dust covering her face. Her breath came in loud gasps. Pain stabbed her lacerated fingers.
Errik’s hand gripped her shoulder. “Take a break.”
Ilanna didn’t resist. She leaned against the wall, lungs burning. She didn’t dare open the door for fear of discovery but she had to keep watch.
A glimmer of light showed in the corridor. She hissed at Errik and the rasp of chisel on stone fell silent. Ilanna’s heart pounded a nervous tattoo against her ribs. The passageway brightened, the sound of slippered feet on carpet growing louder. She half-drew a dagger from her bracer. She wouldn’t hesitate to use it, not so close to success.
The light and footsteps faded. Pressing the door closed, Ilanna nodded at Errik to continue. She replaced him when he grew tired, and he in turn relieved her when her forearms ached from the effort. The minutes seemed to crawl as they worked at the seam in the masonry.
“How long d’you think it’s been?”
Errik shrugged. “Should be midnight soon. No way to tell, though.”
Ilanna stooped and retrieved two hammers, passing him one. “Be ready for when the bells ring.”
She’d just raised her chisel to continue working at the mortar when the Lady’s Bells sounded. She pounded the weakened stone and felt it give. Passing the tool to her right hand, she held it poised for the next peal.
With each chime of the bells, Ilanna and Errik drove their hammers against the wall. Ilanna’s heart leapt as the loosened mortar crumbled. They chipped away, careful not to knock the stones into the shaft beyond but, instead, pull them into the room. By the time the Lady’s Bells fell silent, they’d opened a gap wide enough for her head to slip through. She reached into the void and met only air.
She grinned at Errik. “You keep working at the stone. I’ll anchor the ropes.”
He returned the smile, all traces of tension gone from his face, and set to work expanding the hole. Ilanna searched for something she could use as an anchor. A solid wooden desk at the bottom of a pile of furniture caught her eye. She wrapped the rope around the table legs and gave a few experimental tugs. The pile shifted but held.
She tied the anchor knots with deft fingers and ran a length of rope around a heavy armchair in a nearby stack of furniture. Removing the harnesses from her bag, she slipped into one and passed the other to a sweaty, dust-covered Errik.
“Ready to do this?”
“If I have to.” Wincing and shifting his breeches, he eyed the harness with distaste. He hadn’t enjoyed the drop from the temple rooftop to the window.
Ilanna considered leaving him behind. She could make the descent faster alone. But with no idea what she’d find below, she preferred to have the Serpent close at hand.
She slung the wooden scroll tube she’d brought over her shoulder. “Let’s go.” Clipping her harness onto the rope, she shoved her head through the hole. Her slim shoulders fit without difficulty, though she had to wriggle her hips hard. Once again, she envied Ria’s willowy build. It would make this so much easier!
She held up the quickfire globes to survey her surroundings. She hung in a shaft perhaps three paces across in both directions. Darkness hung above and below the radius of her lamplight. She knew only ten or fifteen paces separated her from the temple ceiling, but she couldn’t guess how far down the shaft went.
Only one way to find out.
Leaning back in her harness, she walked her feet down the wall. Errik grunted as he squeezed through the gap. The lean Serpent was far broader in the shoulders than she, though his hips and buttocks lacked her roundness. She’d chosen him for his slim build. That, and the fact she could trust him. After all, he’d kept the secret of Sabat for five years. He, alone, knew she had summoned the Bloodbear to a secret rendezvous, the one from which Sabat had never returned. He’d never tried to use the secret against her. That earned as much of her trust as she dared give.
The Serpent groaned and shifted in the harness, trying to adjust the ropes around his upper thighs.
“Deep breaths, Errik.”
He coughed. “Bet you’re bloody glad you’re a woman right now.”
She held the globes near her face to illuminate her gloating smile. “Always.” She gave an evil chuckle. “Now grow a pair of balls and get moving.”
They descended at a slow, steady pace. The quickfire globes did little to illuminate the shaft.
She listened for Errik’s periodic grunts and groans. He hung a few paces above her—a safe distance, given his limited experience with the ropes and harness.
A sudden curse echoed overhead, followed by the sound of metal grinding on rope. Ilanna had a heartbeat to reach out her free hand—dropping her quickfire globes—and seize Errik’s arm as he fell. She bit back a cry as his weight wrenched her shoulder but she refused to release him. They dangled there, her left hand clasped around his wrist, her right gripping the rope with white knuckles.
“You good?” Ilanna gasped.
“Yes.” Errik sounded shaken.
Ilanna spoke through gritted teeth. “Grab the rope below the harness and pull it tight. It will support you.”
“Got it!”
With a groan, Ilanna released the Serpent. She tested her shoulder; it twinged, but she hadn’t torn or dislocated anything.
“Sorry. My hand cramped and slipped.” Embarrassment tinged Errik’s words. “You hurt?”
“No. You?”
“Just a bit of crushing in the wrong places.”
Ilanna chuckled. “Lost the quickfire globes.” For the first time, she realized she hadn’t heard them land. How far down did this shaft go?
“Take mine.” Faint red and blue light shone on Errik’s face, a shade paler than usual and covered in a sheen of sweat.
Ilanna dropped to Errik’s level and took the quickfire globes. The limited radius of illumination revealed solid stone walls and darkness all around.
“Good to continue?”
Errik nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chuckling, Ilanna continued her descent. But after just a few moments, the quickfire globes flickered, the light fading. Ilanna cursed. They had perhaps another five seconds of light. If they didn’t find the vault soon, they’d—
She spied the outline of a wooden doorframe. Could that be it?
Stuffing the globes into her pouch, she slid down the rope and jumped across the shaft. Her feet struck the far wall, then slipped on the lintel. She gripped the rope to halt her descent. For a terrifying moment, she swung wildly from one side of the elevator shaft to the other. A twist of the rope around the harness locked it securely in place before she leapt toward the door.
Solid wood met her questing fingers and she gripped tight. Her toes clung to the lower edge of the door’s frame. Heart thundering, she flattened her body against the door. She wavered and caught her balance.
“Errik,” she whispered. “Stay where you are.”
He answered with a pained grunt. “Make it quick. Don’t want to hang here much longer. This is squeezing things I’d rather not have squeezed.”
Chuckling, Ilanna
ran her fingers across the cold, steel door. The absence of locks and keyholes came as little surprise. Thievery in Praamis remained predominantly the realm of pickpockets and muggers. The city’s nobles invested in armed guards to stand watch over their valuables, not traps or locks to keep clever thieves out. Grand Reckoner Edmynd clearly believed his vault to be as secure as the Royal Vaults. No thief could slip past the armored Praamian Guards stationed in the temple halls. Nothing short of an invading army would gain access to his private office. No doubt, he’d invested a small fortune in stonework to hide the door to the elevator. It would be impossible for anyone who didn’t know its secrets to find.
But he hadn’t reckoned on Ilanna.
The doors slid smoothly open. Alchemical lamps flickered to life, bathing the shelves, cabinets, and drawers with bright light.
Ilanna’s laughter reverberated off the steel-lined walls. She had found the Reckoners’ secret.
Chapter Twenty-One
THE SHEER ENORMITY of the hidden storage room surprised Ilanna. Row after row of book-filled and scroll-laden shelves filled the middle of the chamber and lined the walls. The contents looked innocuous but were worth more than all the gold in the Reckoners’ vaults.
She seized Errik’s flailing arm and dragged him into the room.
“Thank you!” The Serpent groaned as the pressure on his legs and groin diminished. He hunched and took deep breaths. “Just give me a minute.”
Ilanna strode among the shelves, keeping a wary eye open for traps. She doubted she’d find any. Grand Reckoner Edmynd wouldn’t risk the wellbeing of the wealthy nobles who came here. She laughed at the mental image of the rotund Lord Vorrel caught up in a rope snare or the haughty Duke Phonnis furious over robes shredded by a trip wire.
She opened boxes and notebooks, unrolled scrolls, and flipped through portfolios at random, moving from section to section quickly. Midnight had just passed—they had less than five hours before sunrise. She and Errik needed to be long gone by the time the Reckoners awoke.
Thief of the Night Guild Page 15