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

by Andy Peloquin

  Jarl stood behind Master Hawk, arms crossed, face impassive. Prynn, Bert, and the twins surrounded her bed. They made no attempt to hide their anger.

  The House Master held up a hand. “Ilanna, I understand your frustration, but what can I do?”

  She bared her teeth. “Make him pay for what he did.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “And do you have any proof? Any witnesses?” He turned to the other Hawks. “Any of you lot witness it?”

  The apprentices shook their heads.

  “I already told you, no one saw but him and his Bloodbears!” Ilanna clenched her fists, ignoring the pain in her healing forearms. The broken bones hadn’t fully mended.

  “Then it would be your word against his.” Master Hawk crossed his arms. “That is not enough.”

  Anger burned within Ilanna and her eyes brimmed with tears of frustration. “B-But look at me! Is that not proof enough?”

  Master Hawk held up a talon-like finger. “If there was even one of the Bloodbears willing to corroborate your story, it would be different. But every member of the Fifth Claw claims Sabat was with them.” He snorted. “To hear them tell it, he was in five different places at once.

  Ilanna growled. Of course the Bloodbears are protecting him! He’s one of them.

  “There is no denying your suffering, Ilanna. But there is nothing I can do.” He shrugged. “The laws of the Guild are clear.”

  Ilanna swallowed her angry retort. Making Master Hawk angry isn’t going to do anything. She clenched her teeth and, with effort, spoke in a calm voice. “Thank you, Master Hawk.”

  “For what it’s worth, I truly am sorry. If you had even a shred of proof, I’d have the little cunt beaten to within an inch of his life.” He tilted his head toward Jarl. “But from what I hear, the boy suffered something of an…accident not long ago. Slipped down a flight of steps?”

  Jarl grunted with a hint of a smile.

  “Let that be enough.” Master Hawk’s expression darkened. “For now.”

  Ilanna nodded and forced her fists to relax. “As you say, Master.”

  “Get well, apprentice.” With a nod, Master Hawk strode from the room.

  None of the apprentices spoke for a long while. Prynn broke the silence. “W-We’re sorry, Ilanna. We tried.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Ilanna scrubbed at her eyes. She would not let them see her cry, no matter how angry she felt. “You did what you could. Now, if you don’t mind, all this excitement has left me very tired.”

  Prynn forced a smile. “Of course. We’ll be back with dinner.”

  “Get well, Ilanna.” Bert smiled and followed Prynn from the room.

  “You’ll be flying in no time.” Werrin grinned and Willem nodded.

  Jarl said nothing, but squeezed her hand. For him, that was eloquence enough.

  The door shut behind the big Hawk. Ilanna lay in bed, alone in the silence of her empty room. The look in Master Hawk’s eyes had told her what his words could not. He could do nothing, but Sabat would not go unpunished.

  Elmar made the laws of the Night Guild very clear: don’t get caught. I will bide my time. Somehow, sometime, I will get my revenge.

  * * *

  “How many hemlock leaves are required for a fatal dose?”

  Ilanna scrunched up her face. “Six?”

  Ethen shook his head.

  “Eight?”

  He beamed. “Very good, Ilanna! Now, tell me about wolfsbane.”

  She scratched her chin. “Wolfsbane interrupts the natural rhythms of the heart and cuts off air, suffocating its victim.”

  “And where does it come from?”

  Ilanna struggled to remember. “Monksfoot? Monksroot?”

  Ethen shook his head. “Monskhood, Ilanna.”

  She threw up her hands. “Well, excuse me if I can’t remember everything! You’ve spent nearly two years learning all this from the Scorpions, but I’ve been at it for just two weeks.”

  Ethen shrugged. “And you’re doing well. But that doesn’t mean I’ll take it easy on you.” He grinned.

  “Why are you teaching me all this anyway? I’m a Hawk, not a Scorpion.”

  “Simple. Your body needs time to heal, but you can’t let your mind grow dull. Sharpen your mind and the body follows.”

  She waved her hand at the stack of books strewn across her bed. “But how am I supposed to remember all this?”

  “By listening and learning. Now, let me tell you about a poison that comes from the pit of a peach. It’s the most curious thing…”

  Ilanna groaned, but Ethen droned on. She welcomed his presence, but tired of all the learning. It’s just too much to remember.

  “Are you listening to a word I’m saying, Ilanna?” Ethen raised an eyebrow.

  She grinned. “To tell you the truth, not really.”

  “Well, pay attention to this poison. I think you’ll find it particularly fascinating…”

  * * *

  “What’s wrong, Denber?”

  Denber stiffened. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.”

  Ilanna rolled her eyes. “Please, Denber. When you worry, your forehead gets all wrinkly.”

  Denber rubbed his forehead, then sighed and plopped into the chair beside her bed.

  “Is it the Undertaking?”

  He shrugged. “Sort of. That’s exhausting enough, I guess.”

  “If not that, what’s the problem?”

  Denber eyed her, his mouth opening and shutting.

  “What? Spit it out!”

  “I…” He stroked the beard that had sprouted on his cheeks since she had last seen him. “It’s…”

  “If you don’t say it now, Denber, I’m going to get out of this bed and beat you.”

  The words spilled out in a rush. “They’re talking about sending you to the Grubbers!” His face darkened and his fists clenched.

  “What?” Ilanna recoiled, as if struck.

  “I’m sorry, Ilanna. I’ve made sure the talk is ended, but it’s not the first time I’ve heard it.” He looked away. “Some of the Journeymen…they’re saying that you’re…”

  “I’m what?” Anger flared in her chest and her face burned.

  He blew out his cheeks. “Useless to the Hawks. You’re not paying your way.”

  “How can I? Look at me.” She gestured to the splints on her legs. “I’m trapped here!”

  Denber held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I know, Ilanna. That’s why I’ve done what I can to put an end to it. But you know how it is. The Night Guild sees us—all of us—as an investment. There is a fine line between investment and liability.”

  This is what they do? Kick me out of House Hawk and send me to the Grubbers to work as a beggar. All because of that bastard, Sabat!

  “Th-That’s not fair!”

  Denber. “Don’t worry, Ilanna. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.”

  “How? How can you?”

  He shrugged. “However I must.”

  They sat in silence, an awkward tension filling the room. Ilanna refused to meet his eyes. I hate how he looks at me with…with pity! It’s like I’m the weak, helpless tyro he met all those years ago. Her stomach twisted and fury smoldered in her gut.

  “I-I’d like to rest now, if you don’t mind.”

  Denber climbed to his feet. “Of course. Sleep.” He paused, hand on the door. “Nothing is going to take you away from the Hawks, Ilanna. Nothing.”

  Ilanna turned her face away, not wanting him to see her tears. She didn’t move until she heard the door shut behind him.

  “Damn you, Sabat!”

  Ilanna shouted her throat raw. It felt good to hurl curses into the empty room until her strength gave out. She lay back, exhausted and panting, her fingers curled into fists. Her arms ached from the effort, but not as much as they had before. A gentle tingling spread through her numb fingers. Though it was slow, she was healing.

  How long has it been? Three weeks? Four? Journeyman Tyman had told her to stay in
bed. But she couldn’t afford to. She’d dedicated herself to House Hawk. I can’t let them send me away. I can’t…I won’t let all my hard work go to waste.

  She shuddered, thinking back to the Grubbers she’d encountered on the street. Wisp-thin creatures wearing filthy, reeking clothes, one and all. But what choice did she have? She was useless to the Hawks in her bed.

  So I’ll get up. I won’t lie in bed a moment longer, not if my fate in House Hawk hangs in the balance.

  She tried to sit up, grunting with the effort. The splints held her arms and legs immobile, and her torso was too weak to lift her. It took long minutes of struggle to finally rise. Lowering her feet to the floor, she slowly placed her weight onto her legs. They ached, but she ignored the pain. Her muscles quivered from the effort. Weeks of disuse had left her legs—once strong enough to run miles without tiring—drained and exhausted.

  I-I can’t! Agony raced up and down her legs, and her vision wavered. She slumped back onto the bed, too weak to stand. Despair slammed into her like a physical blow. She lay there, sobbing, half her body hanging off the bed. All her hard work of the last years, gone.

  The Journeymen were right. I am useless as a Hawk!

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Ilanna, you’ve been at this for days. You have to stop pushing yourself!”

  Ilanna ignored Prynn. He means well. She clenched her fists and took another unsteady step.

  Tyman had removed the splints two weeks earlier, but the pain hadn’t faded. Two months of confinement to her bed left her leg muscles weak from inactivity. She could walk no more than a few paces before needing rest. Still, she forced herself to move as much as she could.

  I can’t afford to stop. Not if I want to remain a Hawk.

  A flash of pain raced up and down her legs. Her knees sagged and she hit the ground hard.

  “Ilanna!” Prynn rushed to help her.

  She waved him away. The pity in his eyes twisted a dagger in her gut. “I can do it, Prynn. You have to let me…do it.” She refused to cry out. I won’t be weak.

  She was still a long way from climbing the Perch, running the Hawk’s Dozen, or returning to the rooftops of Praamis. But she would not quit. She would not be sent away from House Hawk. The mud of the streets belonged to the Grubbers; the skies belonged to the Hawks.

  They belong to me. She levered herself upright, leaning on the wall for support. Gritting her teeth, she continued her shambling, stuttering walk. I will see them once more.

  * * *

  The needle dipped into the thick fabric of the pants. Ilanna grimaced at the pain in her forearms. Her fingers felt numb, clumsy. Her stitches, once so neat and orderly, now ran along the tear in a disordered mess. But she didn’t stop, despite the cramps. The movement helped to strengthen her fingers and hands, and the stitching grew easier. Slowly, one day at a time, she recovered.

  Too slowly. She ached to race across the rooftops of Praamis with the others. Anything to get out of this horrible, stuffy room.

  She hadn’t seen daylight in almost three months. She hadn’t the strength to walk the short distance to the Perch—she could hardly make the trek from her bed to the chair and back. She craved the warmth of sunshine, the chill of a cool breeze wafting across her face. More than anything, she wished she could trade the stale air of the bunk room for the fresh scents of her garden.

  Her thoughts strayed to Denber. She hadn’t seen the older Hawk in more than a month, not since his last visit to her bedside. A stab of sorrow flashed through her. Why hasn’t he come? His Undertaking—whatever that is—consumed his time and attention completely.

  The door opened and closed. “Ilanna?”

  She raised her head. “What is it, Werrin?” A tingle ran through her neck and she twisted her head to sooth the ache.

  The boy held up a shirt. “It’s ripped. I…I can take it to Bert, if you—”

  “Leave it,” Ilanna snapped. “I’ll get to it.”

  Werrin reddened. “I…uh…”

  “I said leave it.” Fire burned in her chest. “Or do you think I’m useless, too?”

  Werrin dropped the shirt and fled.

  Ilanna ground her teeth. She wanted to apologize, but anger held her back. I hate how they all look at me. Pity, that’s what it is. They think I’m weak. My body may be, but I’m stronger than they can imagine.

  The needle dipped and tugged, and Ilanna ignored the pain in her hands and fingers.

  Soon enough, they’ll see just how strong I am. Once I’m healed, I’ll show them all what it means to be strong.

  * * *

  “Easy, Ilanna.” Ethen held out a warning hand, his brow furrowed. “That dust is incredibly poisonous. Even a small amount can be fatal.”

  A bead of sweat rolled down Ilanna’s forehead. She resisted the urge to wipe it away, wincing as it dripped in her eye. The cloth covering her face stifled her. The thick leather gloves made her hands slick.

  “How’s this?” She flexed her hands. Her forearms ached from grinding the dried beans into a fine dust.

  Ethen inspected the contents of her mortar. “Keep at it.”

  “What?” Ilanna wanted to club him over the head with the stone pestle. “I’ve been doing this forever!”

  “Keep grinding, Ilanna.”

  “Why?” She glared. “What difference does it make how fine the stupid dust is?”

  Ethen raised an eyebrow. “Are you questioning the Journeymen of House Scorpion?”

  Ilanna snarled. “No, I’m questioning the infuriating apprentice who’s making me grind castor beans until my hands bleed.”

  Ethen grinned. “Good to see your temper is returning. Means you’re healing nicely.”

  Ilanna rolled her eyes and flipped him a rude gesture.

  Ethen broke into laughter. “Ah, Ilanna. What fun we are having!” His face grew serious. “Now keep grinding.”

  “Not until you tell me why.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  Ethen held up two fingers. “Two reasons. First, the finer the poison, the harder it will be for your victim to detect it. You can mix this fine dust into any drink, add it into dough, or even blow it into your target’s face.”

  “And what’s the second reason?”

  “Simple: it’ll strengthen your hands. Before your…injuries, you’d have gone for hours without tiring. I’m just doing my part.” He grinned. “Which leads me back to my original point: Keep. Grinding.”

  With a growl of frustration, Ilanna seized her pestle and returned to work. He means well, but does he have to be so damned smug about it?

  * * *

  Ilanna ran fingers over the unfamiliar face looking back at her from the mirror. The eyes were hers, but the protruding cheekbones, the fine line of her mouth, and the scar above her right eyebrow all belonged to a stranger.

  Will the scars ever fade? Six months had passed since Sabat’s assault. Her body had healed, on the outside at least. But the grim, wary interloper in the mirror looked nothing like the frightened tyro or the Hawk who’d laughed her first time on the rooftops of Praamis. Her eyes had a hard, cold edge. Everything about her had changed.

  She tucked the sliver of mirror beneath her blanket and shuffled from the bunk room.

  Her eleventh nameday had come and gone…how long ago? A week? A month? She’d hardly noticed. She noticed very little beyond her training. Every muscle ached from weeks of hard training. The bones had healed, but they were still weak. The pain served as a constant reminder of what she’d lost, of how far she’d fallen.

  Conversation died as she entered the common room. Filling her plate, she took her place at the table. Tense silence filled the room. Prynn avoided her eyes and the twins shared a glance. Only Bert remained unaffected; he continued his assault on a mountain of potatoes.

  Ilanna’s stomach twisted. She wanted to talk to them, to restore the camaraderie they’d shared. But what can I say? In her anger and frustration, she’d snarled and shouted at them more times t
han she could count. A nagging worry settled in the back of her mind. Had she severed their bond forever?

  The common room door banged open. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  Ilanna’s eyes widened. “Denber?” She dropped her bowl and whirled around.

  The older Hawk no longer wore the muted browns of an apprentice. Instead, he wore dark robes hemmed with a deep chestnut. He adopted an expression of mock severity. “That’s Journeyman Denber to you, apprentice.”

  Ilanna rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “Coming to check up on you all. I wanted to see just how terrible things have gotten in my absence.”

  Prynn snorted and spoke through a mouthful of oats. “Much better, thank you.”

  Denber grinned and clapped him on the back. “You’re keeping the twins in line, Prynn?”

  “Not possible.” Prynn shook his head. “Kept them alive thus far, though.”

  “I’d call that good enough.” He scanned the common room. “Jarl?”

  “Undertaking. Not been around much these days.”

  Denber nodded. “So it’s just the four you, then.”

  Ilanna’s face flushed. “Five.”

  “Of course. I just meant…” Denber trailed off lamely.

  Ilanna knew full well what he meant. She didn’t need anyone’s help to feel useless. “So what brings you here, Journeyman Denber?” She added extra bite to the word.

  “You lot, actually.”

  Ilanna raised an eyebrow.

  Denber waved at her. “Your…injuries got me thinking. We Hawks are many things. Courageous. Strong. Clever.”

  “Foolhardy,” Werrin piped up.

  “Idiots,” Willem added. “Or at least some of us.” He dug an elbow into Werrin’s ribs.

  Denber nodded. “Yes, all those things. But the one thing we are not is fighters.”

  Ilanna reached for her knife, but her fingers found an empty scabbard. Sabat had taken her knife that day.

  “Which is why I’ve asked Journeyman Ullard here to come.”

  For the first time, Ilanna noticed the man behind Denber. He wore the same rich robes as Denber, but trimmed with emerald green.

  Prynn raised an eyebrow. “A Serpent?”