Westkings Heist: The Complete Series

by Beth Alvarez

Silence fell over the comfortable parlor.

  Irritation churned to frustration and Tahl made himself exhale. How was he going to make progress if he couldn't make the man talk?

  “Tahl,” Ebitha said slowly. “If you're being truthful, perhaps... that is, if you could prove...”

  The suggestion sparked an idea, and he nodded. “Yes.” Tahl rose and returned his teacup to the tray. “But you have to swear, under honor to the crown, that he'll still be here and be tied up when I get back.”

  “Ridiculous,” Veris muttered.

  Tahl ignored him. “Do you swear?”

  Ebitha glanced between the two of them, her wrinkled brow furrowed deeper than ever before. “Yes,” she whispered, and the single word carried all the finality of the thud of a headsman's axe.

  Chapter 12

  When Tahl returned, he went to the front door.

  “Are you certain this is wise?” Oria asked as he knocked.

  “You should ask Nia how often anything I do is wise. I function on instinct, not wisdom.” Still, despite the admission, Tahl bounced on his toes, eager to continue the night's proceedings before the sun rose. A faint rosy hue had already begun to color the eastern sky.

  The queen did not seem impressed. “I had guessed as much, given how many times we've passed through that bear's den.”

  “If you know of any other good secret passages that lead in and out of the city, that would be welcome knowledge,” he said.

  Oria's mouth clamped shut, her lips puckered like she'd just tried one of the sour lemon tarts sold in the coastal markets.

  The door opened a crack, Ebitha's weathered face peering out into the night.

  Tahl straightened. “Here's your proof. Let us in, please.”

  He expected the old woman to question him, but instead, she opened the door wide and ushered them into the foyer. He and Oria were quick to comply.

  “Is Veris still tied?” Tahl asked as Ebitha closed the door behind them.

  “Guessing by how tight those knots are, I couldn't have let him out if I wanted to.” The old woman tried to smile, but the expression was strained.

  Tahl nodded and motioned for her to lead the way. More than once, Ebitha cast a thoughtful look toward the queen, but Oria's hood was up, her face shadowed.

  They returned to the parlor together. Veris had slumped to one side of his chair and proven unable to straighten. He glowered when he saw Tahl.

  “Here he is, Your Majesty,” Tahl announced as he stopped before the man's chair.

  On that cue, Oria pushed back her hood. Ebitha gasped and Veris grew pale. There was no way he wouldn't recognize her. Her face decorated every pim he'd stolen.

  “What do you mean to do with him?” Oria asked. She sounded appropriately disinterested for a queen and looked down her nose at Veris with disdain to match.

  Tahl squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back. “He knows who commissioned what we're looking for, but refuses to surrender the information. By your leave, Majesty, I think an interrogation is in order.”

  “Interrogation?” Ebitha repeated, aghast.

  Oria gave a single nod. “Very well.”

  The last thing Tahl wanted to do was frighten the old woman. With that in mind, the best thing he could do was let her to witness the entire thing. He allowed himself a grim smile and leaned close to the queen to share a conspiratorial whisper. “My affinity is fire, what there is of it. I need you to do me a favor.”

  The queen raised a brow as he finished his request in a breath so light, he was sure no one else had heard. He drew the knife he'd confiscated from Veris and looked at the man from the corner of his eye. A fine mist of sweat emerged on the man's brow.

  Tahl positioned himself behind the chair. He caught Veris by the collar and pulled him upright. “Now,” he began, “you have the opportunity to tell the queen where the money is going and who else is involved, or you can try to see how long you're able to hold out against questioning.”

  “The queen has no authority,” Veris sneered.

  “Suit yourself.” Tahl slid the knife down the back of the man's shirt and sliced it open with one good flick of his wrist.

  Ebitha gasped, but covered her mouth with her hands. Veris seemed confident Oria could do nothing to him, but Ebitha lacked that certainty.

  Tahl raised the blade and held it where Veris could see. All his training had never helped his magic develop, but he could do enough. He funneled power into the blade and it began to glow. Most mage-lights were cool in tone, but he'd learned to alter his. The metal reddened, then brightened to yellow, and finally white, imitating extreme heat. In truth, a subtle warmth was all he could conjure, something to radiate from the blade and imply the metal was scorching hot. The rest of his magic, he coiled close and held ready.

  The beads of sweat on Veris's brow began to swell and roll down the sides of his face.

  Oria paced around the chair to join Tahl. With one hand, she pulled the fabric of the man's split shirt wide open.

  “This is your final warning,” Tahl said. “Tell us where we can find the buyer.”

  “I can't,” Veris gasped.

  “Veris!” Ebitha cried. “Tell the queen! What you're doing is treason!”

  “Too late.” Tahl flipped the blade in hand and jammed it down the man's shirt. At the same time, he swiped the chunk of ice he'd asked for from Oria's hand. He flashed Ebitha a wicked grin and let her see the glittering icicle in his hand before he rammed it against Veris's spine.

  The magic he'd gathered surged at that moment. The ice hissed as his fire magic hit it. Thick, acrid smoke billowed from the point where the icicle met the noble's skin.

  Veris howled in agony.

  Ebitha stared in disbelief.

  “Tell us,” Tahl demanded as he slipped the glowing blade to the queen. Oria took it, her nose wrinkled. By now, she had to think him mad.

  “It goes to the pool!” Veris wailed.

  Tahl removed the icicle.

  The man slumped, panting. “Everyone adds funds to the pool. I don't know who's in charge of spending it.”

  “Who is everyone?” Tahl demanded.

  “An organization. They call themselves Crownwatch.”

  “Arrogant,” Oria muttered. She tilted the knife in her hand. The magic had already faded, the blade dull and lightless once more.

  “The Crownwatch council is all nobles, but I don't know anyone on the council. I'm at the bottom. The money was supposed to help me move up.” The sweat that tracked down Veris's face mingled with tears. For a moment, Tahl almost pitied him. But pity wouldn't answer questions.

  “Does all the money come from the bottom?”

  “I don't know.”

  Tahl jabbed the icicle against his back again.

  The man's back arched, a howl of pain and fear tearing free of his throat.

  “Blade's not quite hot enough,” Tahl muttered as he removed the ice. “I apologize, Your Majesty. He's bleeding.” He winked at Ebitha, who appeared too horrified—and confused—to speak.

  Oria leaned forward and frowned. Fat droplets of water rolled down Veris's back where the ice had been pressed. “It's hot enough,” she said. “I imagine even his blood feels cold after that.” A ghost of a smile played across her lips and Tahl blinked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected her to comment, much less join in his deception.

  Before them, Veris slouched and gasped for breath between panicked sobs. “M-most of the organization is n-n-nobles like m-me. No w-wealth of their own, but access to it.”

  “Even the council?”

  Veris bucked forward before Tahl could move. “I don't know!” he cried. “I haven't met them. All I have is names!”

  Perfect.

  “Give them to us,” Tahl ordered.

  His hand had begun to go numb from gripping the ice, but they were close. He could hold out a few minutes more.

  “Ryald Aldiss,” Veris said.

  Tahl shifted enough to remove
a notepad and a stub of a pencil from his bag. He passed them to the queen.

  The man continued. “Norel Rohede. Arl Endelor. Bahar Eseri—” He cut off with a scream as Tahl jabbed him with the ice again, the smoke pouring out thicker than before.

  “Don't lie to us,” Tahl snapped. “Bahar Eseri is dead!”

  “He's not!” Veris gasped between breaths. He slumped forward and his shoulders trembled with his sobs. “He's still alive.”

  Tahl shook his head vigorously. “Half of Orrad watched him hang.”

  “He's the leader of it all, I swear he is!”

  Before Tahl could say anything else, Oria held out a hand in order for him to be still. Irritated, Tahl stepped back. He was supposed to be in charge, but he recognized when his head wasn't clear.

  “Where do we find him?” the queen asked.

  Veris panted a moment before he could speak again. “He's not here. He's gone north to meet with a caravan.”

  “The shipment,” Oria murmured.

  Tahl nodded. “We go north.” He reached forward and dropped the half-melted icicle into Veris's lap. A moment later, Oria dropped the man's knife onto the cushion beside him. Then the queen drew up her hood and swept toward the door without another word. Subdued, Tahl followed at her heels, though he paused in the doorway.

  Ebitha already knelt beside her nephew, cradling his tear-streaked face in her hands.

  “You'll find he's unharmed, if being proven a coward hasn't bruised his ego,” Tahl said flatly.

  The old widow stared at him in disbelief. “Who are you?”

  A strange question. Somehow, Tahl didn't know the answer, himself. “I'll be back with your horse.” He turned to follow the queen, though a new sense of uneasiness churned in his belly like a knot of snakes.

  Bahar Eseri had been hung. Tahl hadn't witnessed it himself, but it had been the talk of Orrad for weeks. The hanging had happened; he was sure. But if Lord Eseri wasn't dead, who was?

  Tahl scrubbed his face with both hands and struggled to hold in a yawn.

  “You okay, boss?” Hadren asked. The uneasiness in the large man's voice made Tahl uncomfortable.

  Normally, he wouldn't have let anyone know he wasn't at the top of his game. Things were far from normal, though, and Tahl wiped his burning eyes with the heel of his palm. “I'm tired. I don't know about you, but I haven't had a decent night's sleep in days.”

  “Maybe we should stop for a break,” Jeran suggested. “Make a camp. That's what people do on quests like this, right?”

  Tahl snorted at the idea of being on a quest, but he supposed it wasn't far off the mark. The five of them had departed almost immediately after he and Oria had returned from questioning Veris. Though Tahl would have preferred a decent chance to eat and rest, a sense of urgency had clawed at him and drove him to lead the way out of the city without more than a few minutes to pack. The lightweight change of clothes he kept in the guild's headquarters wasn't well-suited to the chilly nights, but he suspected they'd sleep more often during the day. Under the cover of night, they could move along the main roads without notice.

  “I hope we're going to take a break soon. I'm starving.” Ashyl rubbed her stomach. If it had growled, no one seemed to notice.

  “Food's going to be sparse unless some of you can hunt. Didn't have much time to pack provisions.” Hadren scanned the horizon.

  Tahl did, too, though for different reasons. Most of the empire's settlements were on the eastern half of the continent. The west coast was all but untamed, save a select few port cities positioned to intercept trade from the Chains of Raeldan, a twisted series of landmasses that resembled large islands. But the Chains were often split by political strife, and shipments from Raeldan were irregular. Most trade passed through the eastern side of empire—and followed the main roads.

  Thus far, they'd seen no sign of traders.

  “We'll rest in a few hours,” Tahl said, forestalling any further discussion. “I don't think any of us brought a tent, so I'd prefer to wait until we're a ways into the foothills and can hide among the trees.”

  Jeran glanced toward the treeline in the distance. “Is that really necessary? We have a good explanation for why we're out here. Even you're safe as long as we've got the queen with us.”

  Tahl doubted that. From the way Oria's mouth twitched, she doubted it, too. He did not reply, but none of the other thieves pressed any more questions. The night had left them all wearied, it seemed.

  When they reached the pines, Jeran, Hadren, and Ashyl all ate and chose trees to use for shelter. Tahl was halfway up his chosen tree when he caught the queen watching the others with a pained expression. After a moment of consideration, he let go of the branch he still dangled from and dropped back to the ground.

  A still moment passed between them before Oria nodded her thanks.

  “Not used to this, are you?” Tahl asked as he settled with his back against his chosen tree. It wasn't much protection, but it was better than nothing.

  She sniffed. “Why, because I'm a queen?”

  “Because you look miserable.” He couldn't help the little smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “The climbing part's not that hard. I could teach you.”

  “Not that hard for you. You climb like a squirrel, scampering all about. Up and down trees like it's nothing.”

  Tahl grinned as he stretched, legs extended, and leaned forward to grasp his toes. “I've heard that before.”

  Despite her disdainful tone, Oria offered a slight smile. “You're so young, but no one could deny your skill. You've been practicing long?”

  “Since I was a kid.” The backs of his legs ached. He slowed his breath and willed the tired muscles to relax. “Not for this purpose, but I guess that doesn't matter.”

  The queen tilted her head. “Why did you learn?”

  “Because it was fun.” It still struck him as odd that some people expected a deeper explanation than that. He'd been lonely. Bored. As the son of mages who had little interest in anything outside their political machinations, he had little in common with his family. As a child, he'd been left to his own devices.

  The acrobatics had simply been fun. Looking back, he marveled at how easily they had fed into less innocent habits.

  “And is this fun?” Oria gestured to the trees around them with an open palm.

  “Verdict's still out on that one. Come on.” He popped to his feet and pressed his knuckles to his back as he stretched one last time. “Let's climb.”

  “Queens do not climb,” she protested.

  Tahl squinted up at the trees. “Really? I'd think queens get to do whatever they want.”

  She rolled her eyes, but crept closer. “If it were so easy to do what I want, I wouldn't be hiring gangs of thieves to do things for me.”

  “Fair enough.” Tahl slipped behind her and scooped up her cloak. She started to turn, but he motioned for her to stay put. “Cloaks are like skirts. If you're going to climb, you'd better gird up.” He showed her how to twist and tie the bulky material to keep it out of her way, mindful not to touch her in the process. He wasn't particularly interested in touching her at all, but she was royalty, and he preferred the notion of keeping his head attached to his shoulders.

  Oria shifted about experimentally when he finished. “Do you climb in cloaks often?”

  “I climb all the time. In everything. But wearing something like this does help.” He pointed at his own attire briefly. His heist clothing provided the best range of movement one could hope for, outside of being naked. Tahl did, he decided, prefer to climb while clothed.

  Keeping that thought to himself, he showed her where to put her hands and feet and launched into the same sort of explanation he'd used in teaching Nia to climb.

  Before long, she was halfway up the trunk.

  “It's not as hard as I thought,” Oria said as she scouted out another handhold. “I'd assumed it only looked easy because you were good at it.”

  “I'm not the o
nly one who was climbing.” Tahl jerked a thumb toward the next tree over. He'd opted to climb behind the queen, just in case she slipped.

  “And if you're smart, you won't stay down there,” Ashyl called softly from the tree beside theirs. “Someone's coming.”

  Tahl slipped to the other side of the pine's trunk and scurried up to Ashyl's level, nearly at the crown of the tree. He couldn't see her, but she switched to a soft series of whistles that could easily be mistaken for birdsong.

  South. Guards.

  Tahl could have cursed. He parted the branches just enough to get a look. Armor glinted on the road between their group and Orrad, the city little more than a gray smudge on the horizon. He retreated down the tree to offer the queen a hand. “Best get up top, Your Majesty. I have a feeling if they see us, they won't let us continue this little adventure.”

  Oria accepted the assistance without comment. He hurried her into the branches and helped her settle against the trunk, then pressed a finger to his lips in signal to be silent. Once she nodded, he took a leap to the next tree.

  Had it not been so close, he wouldn't have been able to light on a branch and bound over to Ashyl, but he still allowed himself a small chuckle of amusement. A squirrel, Oria said. He'd been called worse things, too.

  “I saw red,” Ashyl whispered. “Why would Atoras send his Elite outside the city?”

  “Hard to say.” Tahl rubbed his chin and looked south again. He couldn't see anything without moving branches, but he'd seen enough. “It doesn't have anything to do with us, though. We'll wait for them to pass, then we'll move, but we'll stay off the roads.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know they're not after us? This could be the team sent to set up a trap.”

  He snorted a laugh. “You don't send someone to set up a trap after the quarry's already on the move. If there is a trap, it's already set up at the destination, and they'll be waiting for us.”

  “Reassuring.”

  They both fell silent as the group of guards came close enough they could see the gleam of armor through the trees. The road was not particularly close by, but given who they were and who they traveled with, Tahl had no doubt they'd become targets if they were seen.