Child of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 1)

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Child of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 1) Page 24

by Andy Peloquin


  Clouds filled the sky overhead, threatening a downpour. The colors of Old Town Market looked muted and dull. Even the bustle of the marketplace sounded distant, a subdued hum that failed to penetrate the fog in her mind.

  Something struck her hard, sending her sprawling. She lay there, shocked. Her mind struggled to find its way back to reality.

  “What do you have to say for yourself, girl? You drunk?”

  Ilanna stared up into the eyes of the angry man. “I-I…”

  He hefted his club as if to strike her again.

  She swallowed and held up her hands. “Not drunk. Just lost my way.”

  The man narrowed his eyes. “Well, mind you watch your feet. Can’t have you spoiling the merchandise!” He turned to the slim figure beside him. “And you, you’ll earn a few coins before nightfall, if you know what’s good for you.”

  Ilanna studied the figure. Worn petticoats hid a thin frame and heavy makeup failed to disguise dark circles under the girl’s eyes. Her long hair hung in a messy braid down her back. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the street, never speaking to the passing people. A tremor ran through her hands.

  A few men stopped, studying her as if judging cattle at the market. None stayed long. One look at the girl’s thin, wasted frame sent them up the street to rounder, plumper fare.

  The girl met Ilanna’s gaze for a moment. Ilanna’s eyes widened in horror.

  “Nine?”

  The girl—no, Nine is a boy—said nothing.

  “Wh-What’s…?”

  She backed away, eyes wide. Her stomach twisted in knots. She could find no words. She hadn’t seen Nine since the day she became a Hawk. None of the Houses had wanted the tyro and Master Velvet had led him away. She’d wondered what had become of him. Now she knew.

  How could this happen? Without a backward glance at the dead-eyed, painted face of the tyro she’d known as Nine, Ilanna fled.

  She ran, not caring where she went. The corpse of her father and Nine’s unseeing eyes hounded her. She had to get away from the horrors behind her. She had to erase the memories.

  How could the Night Guild do that to him? Painted like a whore and set to sell himself on the street. A fate crueler than death.

  She ducked into an alley and sagged against the wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Sobs racked her body. She cried not for her father, nor for herself. She cried for Nine, for all the horror he would endure in his short life.

  A cruel, cold voice floated toward her.

  “Looks like nameday came early, eh lads?”

  Ilanna’s blood ran cold, her tears drying up in a moment of pure terror.

  Sabat strode toward her, two smaller boys at his back. “What have we here? A crying Hawkling, fallen from her lofty heights?”

  “Go away.” Ilanna’s voice sounded shaky and weak. “Leave me alone.”

  “The little Hawkling wants us to leave her alone. What do you think, lads?” The two licked their lips and grinned at Sabat. “No, I thought not.”

  Ilanna leapt to her feet and tried to flee, but Sabat blocked her way. The two Bloodbears took up positions behind her.

  “Oi, Sabat, what you got there?”

  Ilanna’s heart sank. Three more Bloodbears entered the alley behind Sabat. She glanced over her shoulder. Perhaps she could overpower the two younger boys and escape that way.

  A hand seized her wrist and twisted, wrenching her shoulder and eliciting a bark of pain.

  Sabat towered over his. His face hovered close to hers, his fetid breath washing over her face.

  “I owe you a little something, Hawkling.” He ran a filthy finger along the white scar tissue crossing his cheek. “After all, you were kind enough to leave me with this.”

  Ilanna’s free hand flashed to the knife in her belt, but Sabat moved faster. His fist plowed into her gut. She doubled over, heaving and retching. Laughter echoed in the alley. The Bloodbears clearly enjoyed the show.

  He gripped her hair and pulled her head up. She stared at him through wide eyes. “Remember these?” He showed her the knuckledusters given him in the Menagerie. “It’s been too long since they’ve tasted blood.”

  He struck her hard across the face. Bone shattered beneath the impact and blood streamed from her cheek.

  “Pick her up.”

  Two pairs of hands lifted her by the arms and held her upright. Her knees refused to support her weight and her head lolled on her shoulders.

  Sabat yanked her hair, lifting her face again. “I’d like nothing more than to kill you for what you did that day. Made me look weak in front of the other Claws. Weak ain’t a good thing for a Bloodbear.” He slapped her, hard, his open palm cracking across her face and twisting her head. “Thankfully, there’s always a fresh crop of Bloodbears that need teaching. Took the attention off me and put it on the young blood.”

  She tensed in anticipation of another blow. Sabat only grinned.

  “Patience, girlie. Your time will come soon enough.”

  Ilanna reeled beneath his punch. Her nose streamed crimson and her eye started to swell.

  “Sadly, I can’t gut you outright.” He toyed with a knife—her knife. “T’aint the Bloodbear way or so they tell me.”

  Tossing the knife over his shoulder, he reached for the package she’d dropped. He ripped open the paper and held up the length of cloth.

  “Pretty. You wore something like this your first day in, didn’t you?” Leering, he used the cloth to wipe the blood from her face and held it up. “That looks better, don’t it?”

  “Y-you bastard!” Ilanna spat.

  Blood splattered Sabat’s face. He grinned. “There she is! There’s the little Hawkling that put the blade in me.”

  He punched her in the gut again. She gasped for breath and tried to retch, but hands held her upright.

  “No, Hawkling, I can’t kill you, but you’d be amazed by how easy it is to leave someone just this side of the Keeper’s embrace. Though I can’t say you won’t be begging for death by the time we’re done with you.”

  He struck her again. This time, he didn’t stop. Blow after blow rained down on her. Her face caved beneath the impact of the brass knuckles. Blood streamed from her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and her mouth.

  The Bloodbears released her arms and she hit the ground hard. Sabat stomped hard on her upper arm, shattering bone. She shrieked and tried to move away, but he followed. After shattering the other arm, he moved on to her legs.

  Every time Ilanna thought she would drown in pain, a wave of agony coursed through her from some fresh injury. Sabat’s snarling, slavering face filled her vision. She screamed and screamed, but no one came. She desperately searched the rooftops for any sign of Denber or the other Hawks. Only blue skies met her eyes.

  The blows stopped. The pain remained. Ilanna floated in a haze of agony. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly, gasping, trying to speak.

  Sabat knelt over her, toying with her knife. “I think I’ll keep this. The perfect reminder of what happens when you cross a Bloodbear.”

  Slipping the dagger into his belt, he stood and retrieved the cloth. His eyes never left hers as he wiped the blood—her blood—from his knuckles. He threw the soiled rag at her and spat. “Be seeing you around, Hawkling.”

  She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even cry. Too…much…pain. With a quiet groan, Ilanna welcomed the embrace of unconsciousness.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Ilanna?” The voice sounded distant, faint. “Can you hear me, Ilanna?”

  Pain, more than she’d felt in her entire life, rendered her immobile. Agony flashed through every fiber of her being. She could barely moan, a pitiful sound.

  “She’s awake!”

  She croaked. “W-Wa…ter.” Her lips felt thick, her jaw at an awkward angle.

  Cool liquid trickled into her mouth, wetting her parched tongue and throat. She coughed.

  “Easy, Ilanna.” The familiar voice soothed her panic.

 
Her eyes refused to focus. “D-Denber?” Darkness filled her world.

  “I’m here. Prynn, Bert, Jarl, and the twins, too. We’re all here.”

  “Wh-what…happened?” She tried to lift her head. Everything hurt too much to move.

  “We were hoping you could tell us that. Elmar said he found you broken and bleeding in an alley, but there was no sign of your attacker.”

  Ilanna coughed, tasted copper. She raised a hand to wipe away the blood, but a paralyzing wave of pain washed over her. A weak cry burst from her lips.

  “Easy.” A gentle hand wiped her lips with a cloth. “Don’t try to move. Bert, go fetch Tyman, now!”

  Footsteps retreated and a door closed.

  Denber’s face hovered above her. “Who was it, Ilanna? Who did this to you?”

  What happened? Why does everything hurt so much? Ilanna tried to remember. Agony overwhelmed her, numbing her mind. She couldn’t think through the fog. A face filled her mind’s eye. Leering, snarling, slavering, with heavy-lidded eyes and thick cheeks. The memory slammed into her with gut-wrenching force.

  “S-Sabat…” She choked out the word and dissolved into tears. Sobs sent fresh spasms of agony coursing through her.

  “Go,” Denber said.

  Jarl grunted and the heavy tread of his boots moved away.

  Fear twisted in her gut. “Wh-where am I?”

  Denber’s hand felt warm on her shoulder. “You’re safe, Ilanna. You’re in your bed, in the Aerie. We’re here to protect you.”

  She tried to raise her head to look around. “I can’t see!” Try as she might, she couldn’t push the darkness from before her eyes.

  “Your eyes, they’re swollen shut. The bones of your cheek and brows broke. Your arms and legs, too.”

  “Move aside, move aside. Let me see my patient.” The commanding voice belonged to Journeyman Tyman. A cool hand rested on her forehead. “How do you feel, girl?”

  Ilanna coughed. Pain lanced her ribs and stomach, eliciting a groan and a fresh wave of blood.

  “Silly question, of course. Don’t try to move, girl. Your arms and legs are splinted, your ribs bound. Now, I hate to do this, but I must. It’s going to hurt.” Something sharp prodded her stomach and she cried out. “Easy, young Hawk. Just checking for signs of internal damage. Your organs took quite the beating.”

  “How bad is it, Journeyman?” Denber sounded worried.

  “Thankfully, the worst is over. The week of rest has done her good.”

  A week? She could remember none of it. She remembered nothing but the pain.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. “H-how much longer?”

  Tyman snorted. “If you so much as set foot outside this bed for the next six weeks, I’ll break every bone in your body myself.”

  Six weeks? But my training… She hadn’t the energy to protest. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to sleep. Perhaps sleep would drown out the agony.

  “Rest now, child. Listen to your body and let it heal. But first, drink this.” Tyman pressed a cup to her lips.

  She swallowed, grimacing at the bitter taste.

  “Good! She’s showing signs of life again.”

  “Thank you, Journeyman.” Denber sounded relieved.

  “Of course, Denber. You know my fee.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Journeyman Tyman’s hand rested on her forehead once more. “Sleep, child. Doctor’s orders.”

  Ilanna complied, too exhausted to do otherwise. Blind and helpless, she floated in a sea of pain, until Tyman’s draught dragged her into merciful unconsciousness.

  * * *

  Every bone and muscle in Ilanna’s body ached. Sweat dripped down her forehead and stung her eyes. She tried to move, but the splints and bandages held her fast.

  Faces danced in her vision. She could not see through her swollen eyes, but the images played over in her mind. She saw the leering face of Sabat as he beat her. She stared horrified at the lifeless, unseeing eyes of Nine, the tyro turned prostitute. She watched the rats tear at the parchment-thin face of the corpse that had once been her father.

  Sleep eluded her. She needed the fresh, chill air of the rooftops, but was trapped down here in the tunnels. The heat stifled her. She couldn’t breathe. Panic set her heart drumming a frantic beat. Her pulse rushed in her ears and she gasped for air.

  Something damp and cool rested on her forehead. “Easy, Ilanna.”

  That voice! “E-Ethen?”

  “It’s me. I’m here.” His hand felt cool in hers.

  “W-What are you doing here?” Her parched tongue struggled to form the words. “You’re not a Hawk.”

  “Denber sent for me. We’ve been taking turns caring for you.”

  “We?”

  “The other Hawks and me. Even Elmar and a few of his Foxes came to visit.”

  Ilanna’s face flushed, sending a fresh wave of pain through her skull. I never wanted them to see me like this. Especially not Ethen.

  “Don’t worry, Ilanna. They’re worried about you. They wanted to see how their ‘little killer’ was faring.”

  Ilanna chuckled, but she broke off coughing at the pain in her stomach, ribs, and chest.

  “I’ve brought you something. Here.” Something soft and velvety brushed against her fingertips. It smelled so sweet and so familiar. “It’s a viola. One of yours. I brought it here from the garden.”

  “Y-you’ve been visiting the garden?”

  “Whenever I can. It means so much to you, I had to help you take care of it.”

  Warmth flooded Ilanna and a smile touched her lips. “Th-thank you, Ethen.” She wanted to squeeze his hand, but the splints held her broken arms immobile.

  “Of course, Ilanna. Anything for you.”

  Silence stretched out. Ilanna had no words to express the gratitude she felt. His presence meant more than he realized. More than she could say.

  “Do you know what this little flower can do?”

  Ilanna shook her head. Even that small movement proved painful.

  “Well, many people use it to treat fevers and it’s known to be a useful remedy for snake bites. It neutralizes the venom before it kills and stops the swelling. Many people use it to stop wounds from growing infected and…”

  Ilanna breathed deep, basking in the comforting warmth of his presence. His quiet voice pushed back the faces, soothing her into sleep.

  * * *

  The door to the bunk room swung open and Denber strode in. “Well, look who’s awake and sitting up in bed. How are you feeling?”

  Ilanna gave Denber a weak smile, which turned into a grimace. “Like I’ve been run over by every horse and carriage in Praamis.”

  “Sounds about right.” He grinned. “Thank the Watcher your sense of humor hasn’t faded.”

  Ilanna grinned, then groaned. “Everything hurts. My face worst of all.” In the week since Tyman’s last visit, the swelling around her eyes had gone down, but the bones in her cheeks and jaw hadn’t healed. She dreaded looking into a mirror; she had no desire to see the mass of bruises and cuts on her face.

  “Give it time. You’ll look like yourself soon enough.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, you know.”

  Denber turned away, his cheeks flaring.

  “I mean it. You found me, didn’t you? You brought Tyman, even Ethen. I’m getting through this…” Her voice cracked and she swallowed. “It’s thanks to you.”

  He shrugged. “You’re a Hawk, Ilanna. We take care of our own.” His eyes refused to meet hers and his expression tightened. “I-I just came to tell you I won’t be around as much.”

  Her heart sank. “Why not?”

  “My nameday came last week.” He turned away and spoke in a low voice. “My seventeenth.”

  Already? Has it really been six months since my last nameday? Everything that had happened before—training, learning the rooftops, the Alamastri job—seemed a distant memory.

  Denber ran a hand through his hair. “I
’ve started my Undertaking. It’s been hard, but I’ve managed to squeeze in a visit every day. Now that you’re feeling better, I have to focus.”

  She wanted to ask what the Undertaking was, but held her peace. If he wanted me to know, he would have told me.

  “I-I’ll miss you, Denber.”

  “And you, Ilanna.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Take care of the others for me, will you? Jarl is in charge, but I need you to keep an eye out for them.”

  She rested her cheek on his hand. It felt…right. She had no other way to express the way she felt for him. He’d looked out for her since the beginning, treated her better than the others.

  He removed his hand from her shoulder and, with a final backward glance, strode from the room.

  A lump rose in Ilanna’s throat. She had no words to say. She winced as the door shut behind him. Alone, in the silence of her room, she yielded to the flow of tears. Her world suddenly seemed hollow, empty. She hadn’t felt like this since Mama died. Would she ever see Denber again or would he leave forever, as Mama had?

  She allowed herself to wallow in her emotions. She hadn’t let herself feel since Sabat attacked her. Now, it seemed as if she’d lost the one good thing in her life.

  Ethen’s face flashed through her mind. No, she reminded herself. I still have him. And the garden.

  The door opened and she dashed a final tear from her cheeks. Jarl slipped into the room, moving with grace surprising for his size. Without a word, he lowered himself into the chair beside her bed and took her small hand in his.

  Ilanna’s eyes darted to the abrasions, bruises, and scrapes on his hand. None of the Hawks had mentioned where they came from, but somehow she knew.

  She met his gaze. “Did you make him suffer?”

  Jarl nodded. “Squealed like a pig.”

  Ilanna smiled and lay back on the pillow, closing her eyes. She didn’t release Jarl’s huge hand. She needed the comfort of his presence. Without him, she’d feel utterly alone.

  * * *

  Master Hawk shook his head. “I brought it before the other House Masters, but they all agree. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “Why not?” Fury boiled in Ilanna’s chest. “This isn’t right!”

 

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