Thief of the Night Guild

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Thief of the Night Guild Page 19

by Andy Peloquin


  “Not a corpse,” Darreth said in his grating voice. “We’re stealing Lady Auslan’s golden sarcophagus.”

  “Sar-what-now?”

  “Sarcophagus.” The Scorpion’s mouth twitched. “A fancy coffin, made of stone or metal, usually adorned.”

  “In the case of Lady Auslan,” Allon added, “it’s made of solid gold and crusted with gemstones.” He turned to Ilanna. “Worth hundreds of thousands of imperials, from what I hear.”

  Ilanna shook her head. “Not hundreds of thousands.” She dropped her voice. “Millions.”

  The word hung in the air, and none of the men in the room could hide their shock.

  “Death is the one thing money can’t fix. When Lady Auslan fell ill, Lord Auslan spent a fortune on physickers and healers from around Einan. Didn’t do a damned thing. After her death, Auslan did what he could to make her live forever: had her embalmed and stored in a golden sarcophagus. Spent millions of imperials on the purest gold, the brightest diamonds and gemstones. All to make his lady love a final resting place worthy of her memory.”

  “How romantic.” Errik’s voice held a sardonic edge.

  Ilanna shrugged. “Serves our needs perfectly.”

  Veslund scratched his beard. “Seems to me the man who’d make a golden sarcophagus would be the sort to make it impossible to get at.”

  “And you’d be right, Ves.” Ilanna tapped the blueprint spread out on the table. “This is Duke Phonnis’ greatest invention. A vault door designed to be impenetrable.”

  The heavy bearded Fox gave a defeated shake of his head. “As I said, impossible.”

  Ilanna gave him a cold, hard smile. “Which is precisely why we’re going to do it.”

  Allon studied the blueprints through narrowed eyes. “And that’s what this is?”

  “The way in.” Ilanna tapped the drawings. “The Duke’s original plans for the vault door. Dimensions, metals used, design of the locking mechanisms, fail-safes—everything we could need to get in.” She leaned forward with an eager grin. “This is how we bring down the Duke.”

  Joost and Veslund looked confused. Darreth spoke up. “Prove the Duke’s most secure vault is a failure, and his reputation and business fail.”

  “Damned straight.” Excitement brightened Allon’s face. “With this, we can figure out a way to get through that door and get at the treasure stored within. Millions of imperials’ worth!”

  “So we’ve got the blueprints to the door, a good first step.” Errik crossed his arms. “But that’s just the beginning. We’ve got to figure out how to get into the house—no easy task, mind you—get in and find the vault. Of course, pretending we can do all that, there’s the little matter of moving the sarcophagus itself. Not exactly sized to fit in your pocket.”

  Darreth drummed his fingers on the table. “By my calculations, we’re talking the weight of four or five men. Big men, like him.” His finger indicated Jarl, who sat quietly in the corner.

  “And that’s exactly why I’ve brought him in on this.” At Ilanna’s nod, the huge Hawk came to stand at the table.

  All eyes turned to the Pathfinder. Jarl met their scrutiny with calm, a hint of a smile on his face.

  “Now, don’t get me wrong,” Veslund spoke with hesitation, “I’m all for the big fella doing the heavy lifting, but won’t we need a few more of him?”

  Ilanna grinned. “No.” More than a few eyebrows shot up. “Jarl’s not going to be carrying the bloody thing. He’s going to figure out how to get it—and us—out of Lord Auslan’s mansion.” Ilanna placed a hand on Jarl’s shoulder. “Plus, he’s going to build the vault door for us to figure out how to break in. Unless any of you all have any smithing experience to speak of?”

  The assorted Guild members shook their head. “No?”

  “And you’re sure you can trust him?” Joost asked in his laconic drawl.

  Ilanna’s lip curled upward.

  The Fox held up his hands in a defense gesture. “Hey, I have to ask. You made us all swear an oath—”

  Jarl’s voice, rarely heard, sounded like rumbling thunder. “I, too, have sworn.” He met Joost’s gaze, as if daring him to speak.

  Swallowing, Joost held out a hand. “Welcome to the team, big guy.”

  Jarl didn’t drop his eyes or grasp Joost’s hand.

  “I trust Jarl.” Ilanna allowed a note of steel into her voice. “That is enough for all of you.”

  No one seemed inclined to argue, either with Ilanna or the hulking Pathfinder.

  “Now, with that settled, it’s time to move on to the assignments.” She turned to the Foxes. “Joost, Veslund, I need you to find out everything you can about Lord Auslan. His travel habits, the establishments he frequents, the food he likes to eat, and more. Hell, find out how many times he pisses in his chamber pot. Any tidbit of information, no matter how useless it seems, is important.”

  The two men nodded, but made no move to leave. Ilanna raised an eyebrow.

  “Well,” Veslund said, eyes darting around the room, “seems like we’re going to be doing a share of the works. Seems only fair to me we gets a share of yer haul.”

  Ilanna pursed her lips. “Day wages aren’t enough for you?”

  Joost cringed behind Veslund, but the bearded Fox continued. “Don’t get me wrong, ye’ve been nothing but fair. But we’re talking millions of imperials here.”

  Ilanna nodded. She’d expected this. “I’ll offer you one percent of the take. Each.”

  Veslund’s eyebrows knitted, and Joost frowned in concentration.

  “Tens of thousands of imperials each.” Exasperation tinged Darreth’s voice.

  Both Foxes went wide-eyed. “Done!” They rushed from the room before Ilanna changed her mind.

  “Errik, for now, I need you to do the same. Find out everything you can about Lord Auslan.”

  The Serpent inclined his head.

  “And,” Ilanna held up a finger, “scout the property.” She jerked a thumb at the door. “Those two’ll stick out in Old Praamis like a Bloodbear in petticoats.”

  Errik grinned. “Got it.”

  “Three percent’s the best I can do.”

  Errik pondered for a moment. “Five.”

  “Done.” Ilanna shook his hand. Considering the total value of the haul, five percent was absolutely fair—and the amount she’d intended to give him from the beginning.

  She turned to Darreth as Errik strode from the room. “Darreth, your task is to interpret this blueprint. Somewhere among all these numbers are the dimensions of the vault door. Figure them out, and give me the details.” She placed a hand on Jarl’s shoulder. “Jarl here is going to build the door with your help. Your job is to figure out the materials he’ll need. When the time comes to put the door together, you’re going to make sure it’s built exactly as it’s shown here.”

  Darreth gave a little twitch of his fingers. “I’m not much of an architect.”

  “I know. But you’ve got a head for numbers. Between you and Jarl, I trust you can figure it out.”

  Darreth frowned as he studied the blueprint. “I may have to bring in some outside help on this.”

  Ilanna shook her head. “Only if absolutely necessary. I chose you because you’re among the smartest of the Scorpions.”

  “Yes, but this,” he tapped the parchment with a slim finger, “looks like some kind of code.”

  Ilanna bent over the parchment. Indecipherable symbols and markings occupied the upper right corner of the blueprint. “Damn, so it does.” She looked up. “Think you can crack it?”

  Darreth shrugged. “I’ll give it a try. Might know a few people I can ask.” He spoke before she could protest. “I’ll copy a few of the symbols on a separate parchment to show around.”

  “Good. The fewer people who know what we’re doing, the better.”

  “So be it.” Darreth fumbled in his satchel and produced a graphite stick and parchment. Bending over the blueprints, he began muttering to himself and scratching no
tes on his paper.

  Ilanna turned to Allon. “I’ll want you doing some digging on Lord Auslan, too, but not just yet.”

  Allon quirked an eyebrow. “Got something else in mind for me?”

  Ilanna nodded. “You, me, and Jarl are going to do a different sort of digging first.”

  * * *

  “I THOUGHT YOU said digging, not wading through shite!”

  Ilanna laughed as the Hound wiped sewage from his clothing. “Pleasant environment, isn’t it? Besides, don’t you Hounds love the hidden ways?”

  Allon gave an annoyed sniff and winced at the aromatic cocktail of human ordure, offal, and assorted rubbish filling the sewer system. “We use it; doesn’t mean we have to love it.”

  Jarl grunted, the closest he’d get to complaining about the stench.

  The Praamian sewer system was a maze of tunnels, pipes, channels, and canals designed to funnel the city’s refuse toward the Stannar River—sufficiently downstream from Old Praamis, of course. The sewers predated most of the city. Storm drains around Praamis fed into the sewer system and kept the streets largely free of detritus. Many of the nobles and wealthier merchants ran pipes from their bathing rooms and commodes directly into the sewers.

  Ilanna turned the beam of her alchemical lamp on the sewer walls. The stone bore the same esoteric symbols carved into the tunnels of the Night Guild. Makes you wonder how old these tunnels really are.

  Age had worn away at the walls and ceiling. Wooden beams and supports dotted the tunnels where the Foxes and Hounds had shored up collapsed portions. The Foxes utilized the sewer system as a quick way to get around, but only House Hound knew the true extent of the underground maze that ran through the entire city—a mirror image to the Hawk’s Highway. Just as Ilanna and her fellow Hawks ran free across the rooftops, the Hounds dedicated themselves to committing every twist and turn of the sewers to memory. No one knew the sewers better than Allon.

  That didn’t mean he enjoyed being down here. He’d grumbled the entire journey. His memory of the labyrinthine sewer system was perfect, so he avoided the underground maze whenever possible. Ilanna hadn’t given him a choice.

  “This way.” He led them down the left-handed tunnel of an intersection without hesitation. “Careful here.” He picked his way along a crumbling section of floor, hugging the slime-covered wall to avoid plummeting into the river of sewage dozens of paces below. “Current gets stronger the closer we get to the Stannar River.”

  “How far are we?”

  “Not far.” Allon pointed at the intersection behind them. “A few hundred paces that way and you’ll hit The Gardens. We’re beneath Old Praamis now.”

  “Good.” They’d trudged through the sewers for at least two hours.

  Not for the first time on their trek, she considered abandoning this part of her plan. Jarl had the near-impossible task of dragging the sarcophagus upstream through the sewers and back to the Night Guild. Crumbling sections of floor, collapsed walls, and caved-in roofs had forced them to backtrack time and again. More than a few tunnels had been dangerously close to giving way.

  She turned to the Pathfinder. “What do you think, Jarl? Can you do it?”

  Jarl scratched his bearded chin, then realized his hand was covered in slime and grimaced. “Conditions aren’t ideal. Gonna be a bastard nut to crack.” He shrugged. “I’ll need time to sit down with the others.”

  Ilanna nodded. “Of course.” Jarl was a Pathfinder, one of the Journeyman of House Hawk responsible for maintaining and expanding the Hawk’s Highway—the system of ropes, ladders, bridges, and arches that connected the city’s rooftops. He would have to adjust his mindset to build an identical network underground, but if anyone could do it, he could.

  “No promises,” he rumbled.

  Ilanna grinned. “Perfect.”

  Allon paused at the end of a tunnel, where a wooden plank spanned a gap five paces across. “This is the iffy part. Drop’s three or four man-heights, but the rocks at the bottom’ll make for a rough landing.”

  Ilanna shone her light into the chasm. The powerful beam failed to reach the water she could hear rushing at the bottom.

  Allon darted across the plank. “Easy does it.”

  Hiding her amusement, Ilanna made the crossing without so much as a wobble. The Hound clearly had no idea how precarious the Hawk’s Highway could be.

  The plank creaked under Jarl’s weight. He crossed the distance with a single powerful bound.

  “First task’ll be to shore up that bridge, eh?”

  Jarl nodded.

  The Pathfinder had a monumental job on his hands. In addition to transporting the sarcophagus, he’d design and build their escape route. It would have to be sturdy enough for her to traverse easily, but they’d need to collapse it behind them in case of pursuit. No easy task, even for him.

  “This is it.” Allon pointed to a wall.

  “You sure?” The section of stone resembled every other wall in the tunnel.

  Allon nodded and tapped his forehead. “Got the map in here, remember?”

  Ilanna nodded. “Good. Now it’s time for the two of you to figure out how we’re going to tunnel up under Lord Auslan’s safe room.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “ILANNA!”

  Ilanna winced at Bryden’s call. With all the things requiring her attention, she had no desire to deal with him.

  “Journeyman Ilanna!”

  Sighing, Ilanna stopped. Better get this over with. She forced a pleasant smile and turned. “Ah, Bryden, I was just on my way to see you.”

  Bryden gave her his best “you’re lying through your teeth” look. “Clearly.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “My office is this way.” He spun on his heel and limped down the passageway, clearly expecting her to follow.

  When he reached his office, he waved for her to close the door as he shuffled around his desk. “I take it your encounter with Filch was as unpleasant as usual. He alerted me you might be paying a visit.”

  Ilanna crossed her arms. “Spying on me?”

  “Of course not.” Bryden gave a dismissive wave. “Oh, don’t think I haven’t tried it. But while Eustyss and Grillan may be capable thieves, they’re terrible trackers. They lost you before you stepped off the Perch.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Almost like you were trying to shake them.”

  Ilanna snorted. “Some things never change. I value my privacy, and you do your damnedest to invade it.”

  “Just one of my duties as Master Hawk’s second-in-command.” He sat in his plush chair and reached for his ledger. “Someone has to keep you honest.”

  Ilanna gave a harsh laugh. “Honest?”

  “Honest as a thief can be.” He held out a hand. “The stub.”

  Ilanna drew the paper from her pocket and handed it over.

  Bryden scratched his chin as he studied the stub. “Three hundred imperials. A tidy sum for a night’s work.” His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced up at her. “From Lord Ulimar’s?”

  “He’s not on the list.”

  Disbelief flashed across Bryden’s face. “How would you know?”

  “I asked Master Hawk.”

  “That’ll be a first.” Bryden cocked his head. “You’ve always been the sort who does whatever the frozen hell she pleases, consequences be damned.”

  “Is that so?” Ilanna fingered the handle of her bracer dagger. “If that were the case, this office would be a lot…bloodier.” She bared her teeth in a feral grin.

  Bryden didn’t so much as flinch. “Charming as ever, Journeyman.” He tapped the quill feather against his lips. “I trust your latest job is proceeding well?”

  Ilanna stiffened. How much did he know? She doubted he’d thwart her plans, but…

  “Oh, relax.” Bryden gave a dismissive wave. “Master Hawk hasn’t told me anything more than I learned in the Council meeting. I simply ask because your House dues are just around the corner.” He tapped Filch’s stub. “Most of this gold will go toward
covering the day wages for your crew. Add to that the cost of the equipment you’ve used for the job, and you’ll come up short for the month.”

  Heat radiated from through Ilanna’s chest. I’m taking on the most powerful man in Praamis, and he’s worried about my House dues?

  Her jaw tightened. “I received permission from the Guild Council to—”

  “To engage in whatever harebrained scheme entered your mind.” Bryden slammed the book shut. “You received permission for that, but not to avoid paying what is owed.”

  Ilanna’s fists clenched. “I’m not avoiding anything. I’m simply focused on the job, Bryden. Ask Master Hawk.”

  “I have, and he said nothing about your asking permission to delay payment of House dues.” His smile turned icy. “Now, I suggest you find a way to come up with the coin before the week’s end, or…” He trailed off and spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Rules are rules, Ilanna.”

  Ilanna fought back the urge to leap across the desk and throttle the Hawk bookkeeper. You’d better be glad I left my sword in my room, you preening ass. An overwhelming temptation to hack the smug expression from his face seized her.

  “How…much?” she growled between clenched teeth.

  “What’s that?”

  Ilanna drew in a deep breath. Bryden was enjoying himself far too much. “How much are the House dues?”

  He made a show of studying the ledger. “Twenty imperials.”

  Ilanna couldn’t believe her ears. So much fuss over such a paltry sum? But with Bryden, nothing was too small. He would use any excuse to lord his power—limited as it may be—over her.

  “Shouldn’t be too hard for someone like you to come up with that.” His smile turned caustic. “Of course, if that’s beyond your reach, perhaps you’d rather be in another House? Might I suggest House Grubber?”

  You’d love nothing more, wouldn’t you? He’d never done or said anything overt, but hadn’t kept his disdain for her secret either.

  “Tell you what,” Ilanna said, her voice slow and her words acerbic, “take it from my balance. I’m sure there’s enough there to cover such a princely sum.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “Some of us are able to earn our own way, rather than depending on incompetents and fools to do our legwork for us.”

 

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