Midnight Thief

by Livia Blackburne

  Kyra tucked the blankets around Lettie and took care not to jostle the mattress when she stood. Was Idalee gone because Kyra had snapped at her earlier? She doubted it. It wasn’t like Idalee to run out like that. Kyra searched the hallways of the upper floor, then the lower floors. She was beginning to worry when, finally, she found Idalee sitting outside the back door with a blanket wound tight around her shoulders. The girl gave a self-conscious smile as Kyra approached.

  “It’s late,” said Kyra gently.

  “I know. I should go back in.”

  Kyra sat down beside her. “Any reason you’re out here? Was it because I snapped at you today?”

  For a moment, Idalee looked confused. Then she shook her head. “Oh no, not that.”

  “I’m sorry, by the way,” said Kyra.

  Idalee shrugged her scrawny shoulders. The girl seemed preoccupied with other thoughts.

  “So why aren’t you in bed?”

  Again, that self-conscious smile. “It’s silly,” Idalee said.

  Kyra nudged Idalee with her hip. “Well, I already know you’re silly, so you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

  There was a long pause. “I just like to sleep out here sometimes,” Idalee said.

  “Why?”

  Idalee scrunched up her face, still hesitating, until she finally let out a breath. “I don’t want to get used to sleeping in a bed. In case I have to go back out there.”

  Kyra knew the fear deeply, the worry that getting off the streets had been a fluke, that she would somehow lose everything and end up back where she started. She’d grown better at suppressing it over the years, but it had never completely disappeared.

  “We won’t let that happen.”

  The words felt empty, weightless even as they left Kyra’s lips. Kyra could tell from Idalee’s expression that the girl didn’t believe her. Idalee had seen too much of life to be comforted by a trite remark.

  Kyra sighed. “Sorry. I’m not sure why I said that. I know you’re not a child anymore.”

  Idalee tucked her bare feet farther under her blanket. Bella had given her shoes, but the child never wore them. “No, I understand,” she said. “Sometimes it’s better to pretend we can control things.”

  Kyra put an arm around Idalee and pulled her close. “When I first started living here,” she said, “I squirreled away a roll from every meal. I always kept at least six rolls in my room. Fruits and meat pies too, sometimes. For a while, Laman couldn’t figure out why there were so many rats around.”

  Idalee smiled. “He forbade me and Lettie from keeping food in my room when I moved in.” She paused, and her voice became more hesitant. “Lettie’s a lot happier than she used to be. She’s got so much more meat on her bones now than when it was just me trying to feed us.”

  “You’ve always taken good care of Lettie. Even when it was just the two of you.”

  Idalee wiped a furtive hand across her eyes, and Kyra pretended not to notice. It was then that she remembered. “I’d forgotten. James gave me some extra coin to share with anyone who needed it. I can’t give it to my friends, but I’m sure we could pass it to the other gutter rats. Do you want to visit them tomorrow?”

  “Coin?” Idalee looked confused. “Just to give out?”

  “That’s what Rand said.”

  Idalee’s eyes brightened and she gave a quick nod. “They’d really like that.”

  Kyra smiled. “Great. We’ll find them tomorrow evening.”

  It would be good for Idalee. For both of them.

  She reported back to the Guildhouse a few days later. James was surveying the storeroom.

  “How’s your shoulder?” he asked.

  “Like new.”

  “Really? I’d expected it to take a few more days.”

  She swung her arm experimentally. There was a lingering bit of stiffness, but it wasn’t bad at all. “Mayhap it wasn’t as bad as it looked.” As proof, she pulled her tunic down over her shoulder. The skin was new but whole, and there were hardly any scars. James traced the pattern of what had been a claw mark. The light touch made her shiver.

  “You’re right,” he said.

  A voice in her head pointed out that with her quick recovery, Kyra could probably have run that job with Flick, no problem. She pushed it aside. They’d done fine without her—come back with several bags of flour and dried meat. She’d offered to help him carry his spoils into the back room. He’d declined.

  James led her to his study, where he took out a map and rolled it open on the table. It was one of her earliest drawings of the outer compound.

  He pointed at a building midway between the outer and inner walls. “This is the storehouse, right?”

  Kyra nodded.

  “Ideally, I’d send four men in, plus you. That’s enough to carry out the herbs of most value without being weighed down. The question is whether we can get four men in this far.”

  Kyra looked closely at the storehouse, considering several possible routes. “I don’t think we can. There’s guards doing half-hour rounds in this region. We’d likely run into several, and a crew that big is hard to hide.”

  James traced a path with his finger. “What about this way, through the kennels?”

  “The kennels?” Sometimes James had the strangest ideas. “There are less guards, but that’s because they don’t need to patrol an area housing several dozen guard dogs. We’d never get through without raising the alarm.”

  “Do they bark at you?”

  “No, but I’m a dog talker. They’ll stay quiet for me, but I in’t good enough to get four strangers through.”

  “We can drug the dogs. I’ve something that will put them to sleep long enough to get us by. They’ll be groggy in the morning, but not enough to alarm the handlers.”

  Kyra cocked her head. “Put a kennel full of dogs to sleep? How strong is this medicine?”

  “It’ll do the job, if you can get it into their water bowls.”

  She wondered for a moment how much easier life as a thief would have been if she’d been able to get dogs to nap for Flick and the other boys. Kyra looked at the map with new eyes, intrigued by the possibilities. “How long does it take to put them out?”

  “You’ll want to wait at least three hours to make sure all the dogs have taken some. Even then, you’ll need to be on the lookout for any that didn’t get enough. Not all of them will drink it right away.”

  “I can do that.” She could probably encourage them to drink too.

  “When the dogs are ready,” he continued, “you can meet us outside the east wall.”

  She nodded, forgetting her doubts about the Guild as the excitement of planning took over. “I can lead you in from the perimeter. Between the wall and kennels, there’s one guard we’ll have to dodge. We’ll be safe enough passing through the kennels if the dogs are asleep. On the other end, there’s one other Red Shield, but he only passes once every thirty minutes. Once we’re inside the storeroom, we’ll be fine if we close the door and keep the noise down. They hardly ever check inside.”

  “Good.” James looked down at the map. “Then the question is who to bring. I’ll need my best.”

  “Bacchus?” asked Kyra. He seemed to be one of James’s favorites.

  “No. Whoever goes in will have to take orders from you, and I don’t trust him to do that.” The corners of his mouth crept up when he saw Kyra’s expression. “Aye, I do notice what goes on in the Guild. Bacchus is one of my best. He’s loyal. He’ll take a knife for me without question, and he’s gotten us out of trouble more times than I can count, even when it was my mistake that put us there. But he can be…stubborn, about some things. He’ll come around with time.”

  “All right,” said Kyra. “No Bacchus, then.” She had to admit it was a relief. Bacchus had not been openly hostile since the armory raid, but they weren’t exactly the best of friends.

  James squinted at the wall, lost in thought. “Alex is solid all around. We’ll take him. Rand’s fast, but
he loses his head under pressure. Shea can keep him in line if we keep them together. Will you be the only one scouting ahead?”

  “Should be. I don’t see why we’d need other scouts.”

  “This will do, then. Shea can’t fend off multiple guards, but if we stay together, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “You know your men well,” said Kyra.

  “Your job is to crack the Palace. This is mine.”

  She wondered if James had a similarly clear picture of her own strengths and weaknesses. She snuck a glance at his face as he studied the map. There really was something about him, and Kyra no longer found it hard to believe that he’d risen to power at such a young age.

  After the broad strokes were planned out, they went back through for the specifics. James asked about the area in minute detail—the guard schedules and shelter available on each segment of their path. With each additional point they discussed, Kyra’s respect for James grew. He had a remarkable memory, referring to details she had given him weeks ago, and an impressive ability to map out multiple possibilities and contingency plans at each step. Kyra couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an engrossing discussion. They spoke the same language, instinctively agreeing on the important issues and working off each other’s ideas in quick succession.

  “Can you pick the storeroom locks?” James asked.

  “Not the outside door. I’ll have to climb in one of the windows and pick the inside entrance. Can you four hide that long in the open?”

  “You’re not the only one who can dodge guards, Kyra.”

  She looked up, worried she had offended him, but his eyes were friendly, even amused. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked down.

  “Of course,” she said. “We’ll have an hour or so in the storeroom. Will that be enough?”

  “If we work quickly.”

  Kyra noticed how close together they were standing—so close she could feel the heat from his forearm as they both leaned over the desk. She flushed and drew her arm away. James pushed back from the table, studying her again with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Kyra.” His voice was soft, lacking its usual edge.

  Kyra wondered if she should step back, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, when she sensed James leaning toward her, she lifted her gaze to meet his. She was dimly aware of the rise and fall of his chest as he moved closer. Then he hesitated, lashes flickering as he looked from her eyes down to her lips. Kyra shivered and closed her eyes.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath and felt him move away. When she opened her eyes, James was again turned toward the table, face closed.

  “It’s a good plan,” he said, deftly rolling up the map. His voice was cold, businesslike. “I’ll tell the others. We’ll do this tomorrow night.”

  Kyra stumbled back. She needed air.

  “Is there a problem?” asked James.

  “No,” she stammered as she backed out the door. “It’s fine.”

  Kyra turned and fled into the hallway, taking in huge breaths as she burst out the door into the summer breeze. Over and over, she replayed Flick’s warnings. James was a trained killer. She shouldn’t trust James. Couldn’t trust him. And she needed to pull herself together before tomorrow’s raid.

  As she walked home, her thoughts gradually cleared. With James a half hour behind her, Kyra felt more herself. But even as her confusion faded, she remembered how it felt to stand next to him. Her forearm was still curiously warm. She touched it and wondered how long it would be before the heat faded.

  F I F T E E N

  In the meantime, Kyra had a job to prepare for. It was one thing to climb the ledges herself, a wholly different challenge to lead others through the grounds. She had gear to check, maps to review, and schedules to memorize. Kyra buried herself in these tasks, going step-by-step through their route and making note of all the places they could hide. For good measure, she sharpened her dagger and replaced the length of rope she used with her grappling hook. It was good to have something to concentrate on, and if James sometimes intruded on her thoughts, she pushed him aside and planned harder.

  The next evening, she entered the Palace early. There was a lavish party in the outer compound, and Kyra had to hide periodically from giddy couples out for a walk. Thankfully, drunken voices carried far, and tipsy lovers were not the most observant of people.

  The kennels were open air, surrounded by a tall fence. Peering through the slats, she saw fur-covered bodies and heard the occasional snuffle but didn’t see any signs of people. Good, the handlers were gone for the day.

  The gate creaked slightly as she pushed it open, and fifty sets of canine ears turned in her direction. There were a few whines. One or two dogs bowed to placate her, and a few of the braver ones sniffed in her direction. Kyra let out a slow breath and closed the gate behind her.

  The animals were kept according to type. Closest to the fence were small hounds with floppy ears and friendly dispositions. These were kept in pens of five. The larger attack dogs lived farther back. Each of the bigger dogs was chained to its own doghouse, probably to prevent fights from breaking out.

  Kyra made her way around the entire kennel, first hitting all the enclosures. A pinch in each bowl, James had said. The beagles were of two minds. Half cowered in the corner while the other half stayed close, showing her their bellies and whimpering. She mixed the powder into their bowls with no problem. After those, she moved on to the attack dogs. Most whined and backed away. One particularly large wolfhound growled when she came too close, but quieted when she shushed him.

  After hitting all the water bowls, Kyra retreated into a corner, hugged her legs, and waited. The dogs remained restless for a while, but gradually returned to their business. Some lay down while others scampered amongst themselves. Gradually, they curled up on the ground, sinking into deep slumber. As more fell asleep, she returned to the ones still awake and commanded them to drink. Finally, the kennel was still except for a few beagles, who blinked sleepily. Kyra was sure they’d soon succumb as well.

  “Good night,” she whispered as she made her way out.

  She used the trek back as a chance to compose herself. Whatever her thoughts about James, she couldn’t afford to be distracted tonight. Still, when Kyra reached the meeting spot, she was glad for the darkness that obscured her face. James, Rand, Alex, and a fourth who must have been Shea waited for her outside the compound. Her heartbeat quickened when James met her eyes.

  “The dogs are asleep,” she said.

  “Good,” said James. His manner showed no hint of what had passed between them the day before, and she was grateful. “Let’s go.”

  The four men pulled masks over their heads, and Kyra took the lead climbing back up the wall. Once at the top, she scanned the interior. No movement. She tugged lightly on the rope, and it stretched taut as the next person pulled himself up. She recognized Rand by a lock of red hair that had escaped his mask. Kyra made a mental note of each man’s clothing and build so she could identify them from a distance.

  One by one, the others climbed over and blended into the shadows on the other side. James came up last, his pale eyes a marked contrast against his black mask. They locked eyes briefly. Kyra was the first to look away. Once he made it over, Kyra followed him down. The group gathered on the other side of the wall, silent specters holding a wordless conference. James motioned at her and pointed down the path. She nodded and set off at a light jog.

  The moment they started moving, she knew these men were good. She could barely hear them as they trailed her, following her steadily through the compound’s twists and turns. They didn’t trace each other’s footsteps exactly, but each picked his own path depending on where the others were. Every man made certain to scan in a certain direction, so that the group as a whole had eyes on all sides. They moved as a constantly shifting unit, always aware of one another, no one falling behind.

  They approached a crossing where guards often
passed. Kyra slowed and, sure enough, heard footsteps in the distance. She raised her hand, and the signal passed back from one assassin to the next until they all took shelter. Kyra ducked behind a bush and waited. A Red Shield marched down the path and continued past. She waited ten breaths after she no longer heard his boots, then waved the others across to the kennel.

  No sound came from within as she unlocked the gate this time. A few dogs stirred when it creaked open, but none opened their eyes. The assassins filed in one by one. Kyra locked the fence behind her and led them toward the far gate.

  They were three-quarters of the way through when a sharp bark echoed through the kennel. The sound was piercing in the thick silence, and Kyra jumped as the men around her sprang to attention. A guard dog in the back corner pulled at his chain, baring his teeth at the intruders. Had he somehow avoided drinking his water? She advanced on him slowly, holding his eyes, doing her best to project authority. He growled deep in his throat. As she came closer, however, he seemed to notice his pack mates’ unnatural silence. The dog backed up until he finally cowered against the doghouse, whining piteously.

  Whining, she could deal with. Nobody would hear him from outside. Later, she’d allow herself to sigh in relief, but not now. She turned back, moving quickly now to the other gate. She paused at the opposite entrance to wait for another guard to pass by. Then they continued to the storehouse.

  Kyra hadn’t been in this particular storehouse before, but she’d seen others like it. The lower windows were locked, but the upper ones were easily opened. It was simple, even trivial after her time in the heavily guarded inner compound, to shimmy through one of the higher windows, make her way down, and open the door for the others.

  James led the way in, striding down the row of wares. Once in a while, he gestured toward some boxes for someone to take. Kyra’s job was lookout. She posted herself outside the door and scanned for signs of anyone coming.

  There was a crunch of boots on gravel, and Kyra raised her hand. James caught her signal and motioned to the others. All four men melted into the shadows. Kyra pulled the door shut and positioned herself right by the entrance, looking out through the crack where door met hinge.