Denber nodded. “Who better to teach you to fight—and kill, if necessary—than those who do it for a living?”
Journeyman Ullard looked about Denber’s age. He stood a handspan taller than the Hawk, with broader shoulders and scarred hands. He carried himself with quiet assurance. His hands never strayed far from his belt, where a pair of serpent-headed daggers hung in leather sheaths.
“So what do you say?” Denber eyed the apprentices in turn. “Did my friend waste his time in coming here?”
Ilanna pondered the offer. She knew how to kill with a dagger, but her fighting skills ended there. Could she really turn down the chance to learn more? Ethen had taught her many of the secrets of the Scorpions. His lessons had done more than just teach her poisons and potions; they’d instilled in her an eagerness to learn. Knowledge, she’d realized, held power.
She climbed to her feet and nodded. “I’m in.”
The lines in Denber’s forehead smoothed and his shoulders relaxed.
“Me, too,” Werrin and Willem said at the same time.
Prynn nodded.
Bert put down his fork and swallowed his food. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”
Denber smiled. “Good. Training begins immediately.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The ring of steel on steel echoed off the walls of the Aerie. Ilanna watched, spellbound, as Denber and Ullard moved back and forth in an intricate dance of clashing blades. Their long swords dipped, darted, and thrust, bright metal reflecting in the sunlight. They moved with confidence, exchanging a flurry of blows in the space of a few heartbeats.
I had no idea Denber knew how to fight. No one could question his skill on the Perch or the rooftops of Praamis, but to handle a blade like this? What other talents did he keep hidden?
The two separated with a flourish, dripping sweat, panting with the effort. They bowed to each other and turned to face the open-mouthed Hawks.
“That, my friends, is what it means to be a fighter.” Denber handed the sword to Ullard. “If you learn these skills, you will never find yourself helpless.”
His eyes flashed to Ilanna and she winced.
Werrin eyed the heavy sword with a dubious expression. “And you expect us to lift those bloody things?”
Ullard shook his head. “No.” He threw the boys wooden staves. “You get to start with these first. Get used to the feel of them. You don’t get to touch steel for a long while yet.”
Ilanna raised her hand. “What about me?”
He nodded. “I have just the thing for you.” He held out a long, slim stick.
She eyed it with distaste. “This thing? It’s as thin as my pinky.” She pointed to the thick, arm-length sticks the other Hawks had. “Why don’t I get one of those swords?”
Ullard’s frown deepened. “Tell me, do you think you’re as strong as any of your fellows?”
Ilanna eyed the other Hawks. None, save Prynn, matched her skill with a dagger, but in terms of strength, they all outclassed her. Before her injuries, she might have had a chance against Werrin or Willem. Now, however…
She shook her head.
“Good.” He nodded. “That’s the first lesson you must learn.”
Ilanna narrowed her eyes.
A shrewd smile played at the corners of Ullard’s mouth. “The first thing Serpent apprentices learn is that all men are created different.” He flexed his arms. “Some are stronger than others. Some are quicker. And some are smarter. Many are fortunate enough to combine two of those attributes. It is rare to find a fighter with all three.” He pointed at Ilanna. “What would you say is your greatest strength?”
Ilanna shrugged. “I…don’t know.”
Ullard nodded. “Good. That’s the second lesson. When it comes to skill at arms, you know nothing.” He studied her, stroking his chin. “Do you know what I see?”
Ilanna shook her head.
“I see intelligence. If you can learn to outthink your opponent, you will survive. You will never be stronger, but there is potential for speed. To be a truly great fighter, you must combine the two.” He pointed to the stick he had given her. “That weapon is meant for quick, intelligent fighters. The others can develop strength, but you must learn to think and move with speed. Do that, and you stand a chance of survival.” He eyed her askance. “Slim though it may be.”
* * *
Face burning, Ilanna picked herself up from the ground. That’s the fifth time in the last hour!
I hate this! She loved the lessons of swordplay—fencing, Ullard calls it. She loved the sensation of sweat rolling down her back and dripping from her forehead. But she despised her slow, clumsy movements. Her legs refused to keep up with the rest of her body. Minutes into her training, pain raced through her hands and fingers. Her shoulders burned from the effort of holding the blade level. When she tried to match Ullard’s rapid shuffle-steps, her feet dragged.
“Don’t worry, Ilanna. It takes time to learn the saber.” Denber clapped her on the back. “You’re doing better, you know. Your form is much tighter and you’re moving more easily.”
She stifled a retort. What he meant as encouragement felt patronizing. The pity in his eyes sent a fire of rage racing through her gut. Even after all this time, he still sees me as weak.
She fell into the defensive stance Ullard had taught her. She cut, thrust, and parried in time with his barked orders. This time, despite a few stumbles, she completed the form without falling.
Ullard nodded. “Good. Rest, get some water, then back to it. First form, high-low strikes.” Grudging approval replaced the disdain in his eyes.
Tucking the wooden saber into her belt, Ilanna stumbled to the bench. She emptied a cup of watered wine in a single draught, refilled it, and emptied it again. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the bench, shoulders slumped, elbows on her knees.
Ullard’s quiet words floated toward her. “You weren’t lying when you called her strong-willed, Denber.”
“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Denber replied in a low voice. “Once she recovers fully, she’ll be whipping the others into shape in no time.”
Shock coursed through Ilanna. Ullard always seemed so dismissive of her, more so than with the others. But to hear him say that…
She raised her head. Ullard stood watching her, hands clasped behind his back. Beside him, Denber grinned and nodded. She dropped her head into her hands, but not out of shame. She did it to hide the flush of red and the smile on her lips.
* * *
“Remember, Ilanna, learn to outthink your opponent. Find his weaknesses.”
Ilanna cut and thrust in time with Ullard’s words. The wooden blade darted through the air like the tongue of a viper.
“Let him strike at you at will.” Ullard thrust with his heavy wooden blade, a strike meant to bury his sword in her gut.
She interposed her lighter stick, tapping his sword and sending it wide.
“Good. Do not block, deflect. Do not parry, turn aside.” He struck an overhead blow and Ilanna twisted aside. “Be where he least expects you. Go for the kill.”
He brought his wooden sword around in an exaggerated strike for her head. Ducking, Ilanna stepped inside his guard. Her off-hand tapped his throat, gut, and inner thigh, simulating dagger strikes.
She grinned up at him. “You’re dead.”
Ullard grunted. “You’re learning.” He retreated, bowed, and tucked the wooden blade into his belt. “I’ll be off, then. Same time tomorrow.”
Ilanna returned the bow, hiding a smile. Finally! After two months of hard training, she finally saw progress. She flexed her hands; her grip had grown stronger, better able to hold the wooden sword without tiring. The ache in her arms and legs had faded. Her muscles kept up with the demands of training more easily.
I still have a long way to go, but I’m getting there.
As it did every day, her gaze strayed to the vaulted heights of the Perch. She ached to fly free, high above the city of Praamis. Before she coul
d do that, she had to scale the maze of ladders, ropes, and walkways.
What’s to stop me from doing it today? She glanced around. The Aerie stood empty. Prynn’s out on a job with the others. I’m all alone. No one would see her attempt. No one would see her if she failed.
Heart racing, she stepped on the first rung and lifted her foot. The ladder swayed beneath her. The ground tugged on her, refusing to release its grip on her weight. She gritted her teeth. I can do this!
Hand over hand, she climbed. Sweat stung her eyes and rolled off her arms. Her forearms screamed and her head spun. She had a memory of her first day on the Perch, training under the watchful eye of Conn. The same nervous hesitation threatened to drag her to the earth. Now, however, she had no one to guide her, no one to hold her accountable but herself. If she failed, only she would know. But she would know.
Slowly, the distance to the ground increased. Her legs and arms trembled with the effort of clinging to the rope. The Perch’s lowest platform drew closer with every thundering heartbeat. She kept her eyes fixed on the goal. I will do this!
Her fingers closed around solid wood and she slumped onto the platform. She gasped for air, every muscle drained. But it didn’t matter that she’d only climbed a few paces. She didn’t care how exhausted she felt. She’d left the ground for the first time in almost a year. Though she had a long way to go before she returned to the rooftops of Praamis, she’d taken the first step.
Excitement drove away her fatigue. She struggled to her feet, elation driving back her trepidation and fear. She eyed the ledge in the distance. A beam no wider than three fingers spanned the distance. She’d once made the crossing with ease, but could she now?
Only one way to find out!
Mama’s words came into her mind. She lifted her head, threw her shoulders back, and extended her arms. Fixing her eye on a single point in the distance, she stepped onto the beam.
One foot, then another. She wobbled but caught her balance. Keep going. A third step. Her left leg trembled, her right knee sagging.
She gritted her teeth. I won’t fall. She didn’t care that the net would catch her if she did. Falling now would be failure. She wouldn’t fail. Just…a…few…more…steps.
Her left foot, numb with exhaustion, twisted beneath her. She swayed and tried to catch her balance, but slipped from the beam. The net rushed toward her, sagging with her weight. Wild, maniacal laughter burst from her throat. She should feel defeat, frustration, or anger, but she felt only exhilaration. She’d fallen, but what did it matter? She’d climbed into the Perch. Weeks and months of hard work and training paid off. It didn’t matter how far she still had to go, how much more work she had to do. I did it!
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ilanna lay on the rooftop, legs dangling over the edge, eyes fixed on the blue sky. She’d pushed her body to its limits and the hard work of the last year had paid off. Save for an occasional nightmare of Sabat’s leering face, no effects of her assault remained. Best of all, today was her first day of flying in more than a year.
Prynn and Bert sat beside her, sharing a skin of watered wine. Ilanna was too excited to drink. She ached to fly free across the rooftops. After months stuck in the enclosed tunnels of the Night Guild, the open air called to her. She’d completed her tasks before the sun peeked over the horizon. Nothing would keep her from flying today. But Prynn wouldn’t go without the twins.
Hurry up, you two! If you take any longer to finish your chores, I’ll—
Willem climbed through the opening to the Aerie, panting.
“Finally!” Ilanna leapt to her feet. “What took so long?”
Werrin stepped out beside his twin and smacked the back of Willem’s head. “The bloody fool decided it would be fun to spill the bucket we’d just used to clean the privies. And, of course, who should be walking through the tunnels but Journeyman Conn, the high and mighty. I’m surprised you’ve still got any skin left, Lem. Conn looked ready to flay you alive.”
Willem reddened and muttered a curse.
Ilanna turned to Prynn. “Ready?”
Prynn climbed to his feet, in no hurry. “Very well. Let’s be off.”
Bert stowed the wine skin and stood. “Where to, boss man?”
Prynn tugged at the sparse patch of hair on his chin. Ilanna couldn’t help noticing how much he’d grown in the last year. She barely reached his shoulder. “It’s been a while since we’ve visited the Alamastris. Let’s head over there and case the place.”
Ilanna nodded, unable to hide her eagerness. Anything to get out of the Aerie!
“Lem, Werrin, you’re in the lead. Bert, you’re with Ilanna.” He held up a hand to forestall Ilanna’s protests. “It’s your first day back, Ilanna. No one doubts your skill, but we’ll take no chances.”
Ilanna wanted to complain. I don’t need to be coddled! Or she hadn’t, before her injuries. Now, she wasn’t certain how well she would do. She snapped her mouth shut.
Prynn nodded and motioned to the twins. “Well then, let’s be off.”
* * *
Ilanna lay on the slanting rooftop overlooking the Alamastri mansion, her eyes fixed on the sky. The other Hawks can do the watching. This is more important.
She’d always loved sunset. During her months of confinement to the tunnels, she’d wanted nothing more than to watch the sun disappear behind the horizon in a glorious flare of color. Rich hues of blue, red, and purple splashed across the heavens in a vivid panorama and a cool breeze heralded the impending dusk.
Beside her, Willem and Prynn discussed their planned heist.
“How long until the Season of Plenty festival in Voramis, Lem?”
“If I remember correctly, it’s the last weeks before the winter. That means we’ve got about a month, give or take.”
“Hmm.” Prynn stroked the patch of fuzz. “Do you know anyone in the Foxes who can find out if the Alamastris have been invited to any events? Discreetly, of course.”
Willem nodded. “For a price.”
“We’ll pay it.”
“I’ll set it up when we get back. Should have an answer within a few days.”
“No rush.” Prynn gave a dismissive wave. “These things take time.”
Their voices faded into the background. Ilanna closed her eyes, relishing the fresh evening air, the myriad scents and sounds from the city below, and the warmth of the setting sun on her face. Yes, it’s good to be a Hawk once more.
A boot nudged her side. “Come on, Ilanna. We’re heading back.”
Opening her eyes, she took Werrin’s proffered hand and pulled herself to her feet. “That’s it? I thought we’d spend the night out here, studying the place.”
Werrin shrugged. “Prynn’s orders. Besides, you don’t really want to pass the night huddled in the rain and wind, do you?”
“Better than being trapped in the Guild. I’ve been in those tunnels for too long!”
“I know, I know. You’ll be back out here tomorrow, though.” He clapped her on the back. “And every day after that. It’s good to have you back, Ilanna.” His hand lingered on her shoulder and he squeezed. The gesture seemed to hold more than just friendly affection.
Ilanna returned Werrin’s gaze steadily. Something in his eyes had changed in the last few weeks. He’d grown taller—all the other Hawks had—but he’d never looked at her this way before. It felt uncomfortable yet…wonderful.
“Let’s go, you two!” Willem shoved Werrin, sending the boy stumbling. “Stop wasting our time. I’m starving!”
Ilanna punched his shoulder, grinning. “You’re always starving. And be nice to Werrin.”
Willem twisted his face into a mocking grin. “Ooh, going all gooey for Werrin, are we?”
She punched him again, harder.
“Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder. “Just teasing, Ilanna. No need to hurt me.”
Ilanna pushed past him, her face reddening. What was that? Why did I hit him so hard? What was it about his words that made me r
eact like that? She didn’t understand the emotions coursing through her. Better not to think about it.
She turned to the four Hawks. “Race you back to the Aerie, chumps!” With that, she took off across the rooftops.
“Ilanna, no!” Prynn’s cry reached her, but Ilanna had already dropped from the lip of the roof to the plank bridge below.
Laughter burst from her lips as she ran. She basked in the sensation of the wind across her face, her boots pounding across the rooftops. Her legs protested as she broke into a full sprint, but she ignored them. Her wrists and knees always ached—a side effect of her injuries. Can’t let that stop me!
The plank bridge shuddered behind her and she turned to see Bert dropping from the rooftop. He opened his mouth to call out, but she didn’t wait. She leapt across to the next house, clambered up a rope ladder, and wobbled her way across a thin bridge.
“Wait!” A hand seized her arm.
Ilanna acted on instinct. She’d spent hours drilling with Ullard, learning how to break free from a restraining grip. Her elbow shot back, her shoulder driving into her assailant’s stomach.
A cry echoed across the rooftops. Ilanna’s heart stopped. Bert stumbled backward and his heel struck a roof tile. Eyes wide, mouth agape, he teetered on the edge of the rooftop for a heart-wrenching second. Her gaze locked with his as she leapt toward him, reaching out to clasp his hand.
She missed.
His weight dragged him backward and he plunged out of sight with a scream of terror. The sound died with a horrible thump.
Ilanna’s stomach bottomed out. Panic, shock, and horror held her frozen in place. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. What have I done?
Prynn’s voice snapped her from her paralysis. “Ilanna! Bert!”
Ilanna raced to the roof’s edge and stared at the street far below. A scream burst from her mouth. “Bert!”
The Hawk lay on the cobblestones, barely moving. A halo of blood spread around his head. His arms and legs lay twisted at an awkward angle. He coughed, spraying crimson. Without thinking, Ilanna slipped down the side of the house. She had no idea how she reached the ground. She had eyes only for the broken body on the street.
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