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

by Andy Peloquin

  The alarm rang out again, dashing her hopes. Well, not quite. She had to descend the tower and slip through the gardens unnoticed. All of Praamis had heard the alarm bell. She had little doubt the gardens below would be filled with guards—all searching for her. She swallowed hard, pushing her fear aside. One problem at a time. First, I have to find something to steal.

  She searched the room, looking for anything that would prove she’d made it up here. All three rooms stood bare of furniture. The only thing out of place was the corpse in the alcove. Something glinted at her from the shadows. A golden hawk pin, driven into the crest of the grinning skull. That’ll do!

  She pried the pin free with her knife and slipped the grisly trophy into her pouch. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward the window, pausing only long enough to recover her thrown glove and the beamer.

  The darkness beyond beckoned to Ilanna. She clambered up onto the windowsill and slipped through the opening. A sharp pain flared in her right shoulder and arm. Warmth soaked into her shirt and trickled down her back.

  “Watcher’s teeth!” Gritting her teeth, she pulled the shard of glass from her arm. She couldn’t let the pain distract her; she had enough to worry about. Her bloodstained fingers fumbled with the knots holding the satchel closed. Coils of rope spilled from the sack, sliding through the bars. Ilanna made a desperate snatch. By pure chance, her fingers closed around one end of the black cord before it plummeted hundreds of paces to the garden below. Heart thundering, Ilanna hung there, gasping for air.

  With trembling fingers, she secured the rope to the iron bars using one of the complex knots Denber had taught her. It would hold as long as her weight pulled on the rope, but would come loose when she reached the ground. She would leave no trace of her passage save a few shards of shattered glass and a handful of lead balls.

  A quiet bark of pain escaped her lips when she tried to squeeze herself through the iron bars. The metal tugged at the torn flesh of her shoulder and arm. A fresh surge of blood rolled down her back. She wrestled her body through the narrow gap and clung to the bars with slick fingers. She had seconds to anchor the rope before her grip slipped. Locking her legs around the bars, she finished the final hitch of the knot and tugged it taut. Her breath caught in her throat as she tested her weight on the thin cord. It held.

  Ilanna gasped, her heart hammering. One step at a time, she crawled down the rope. The descent proved easier than the ascent. With the rope coiled around her waist, she could afford to pause when the burning in her arms and legs grew too intense.

  She dared not look down, but concentrated on the stone face before her and the rope sliding in her hands. Every muscle in her body ached. The makeshift harness constricted around her waist, pinching her skin and burning as it rubbed. Her forearms knotted with the effort of gripping the rope. But she’d prepared for this. With slow, cautious movements, she looped the rope around her leg and passed the line to her left hand. She hung there, hundreds of paces in the air, swaying gently in the breeze.

  Twisting her neck, she stared out over Praamis. It looked beautiful at night. Thousands of lights dotted the city, glittering like candles. Ethen would love the view.

  Thoughts of Ethen filled her with worry. She had to hurry if she wanted to escape before the Duke’s guards discovered her. The longer she waited, the less time she’d have to slip through the gardens. Daybreak couldn’t be more than an hour or two off. No time to waste!

  Her heart lurched at the creak of rope. She felt herself dropping, as if the rope slowly unraveled. She risked a glance below. The ground had to be at least a hundred paces away. If the rope snapped, could she climb down the tower? Not before the rising sun revealed her clinging to the stone wall like a trapped spider.

  With that thought firmly in mind, Ilanna hurried her descent. She leapt out into open space, dropping dozens of paces at a time. The rope burned her fingers and palms through her gloves, but she didn’t care. Ilanna couldn’t allow herself to worry. She focused on keeping a firm grip on the line. She had one thought: I have to get down, now!

  She felt the snap through the rope and she plummeted. The treetops of Duke Phonnis’ gardens rushed up to meet her. She crashed through the canopy, snapping twigs, bouncing off branches, and finally falling through the thick boughs. Ilanna slammed into the ground, knocking the breath from her lungs.

  Gasping for air, she tried to stagger to her feet. Shouts and cries filled the garden. Torches and alchemical lamps flickered in all directions. Her fall from the Black Spire had not gone unnoticed. At any moment, the guards would find her. She fought to move, but her legs refused to cooperate. The world whirled around her.

  “Ilanna!” The familiar voice called her name again. “Ilanna, get up!” Denber’s worried face hovered over her.

  Ilanna groaned, her stomach heaving though nothing came out.

  “Errik! Help me with her.”

  The Serpent materialized from the darkness beside Denber. “Damn it! She took a bad fall.”

  “I know, you idiot. That’s why we have to get her out of here.”

  “But the Undertaking…”

  Denber snarled. “Undertaking be damned, Errik! She can’t move with that leg of hers. If she stays, the guards will find her. You know what will happen.”

  Errik said nothing, but seized her other arm. Together, he and Denber hustled her away through the gardens.

  Ilanna wanted to ask them how they found her, but her mouth couldn’t form the words. She fought to stay conscious, stumbling along between them. I…I did it! Every fiber of her being ached from her fall, but she clung to the thought. A sense of triumph flared within her. They said…it was impossible…but I did it.

  With that, she slipped into the painless embrace of unconsciousness.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Ilanna lay beside Ethen, his limp hand clasped in hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She watched the soft rise and fall of his chest. You have to get better, Ethen. You have to! The words rang hollow. Journeyman Tyman had looked worried when last he checked on Ethen. Something about the slump of his shoulders told Ilanna he’d written Ethen off. His gentle squeeze of her shoulder felt more sympathetic than reassuring. He hadn’t returned in the last three days. Ethen’s rasping grew louder with every tortured breath. Each heartbeat could be his last.

  She winced at a fresh wave of pain. She’d spent the last week confined to rest on Tyman’s orders. Her fall from the Black Spire had left her with cracked ribs, a dislocated hip, and more bruises than she could count. Ilanna didn’t mind—even relieving herself proved difficult and she hadn’t wanted to leave Ethen’s side.

  The door opened and closed. A hand rested on her shoulder.

  Ilanna didn’t turn. “Already?”

  “Yes.” Denber spoke in a soft voice. “I know you don’t want to leave him, but…”

  Ilanna craned her neck. “We can’t keep the Masters waiting.”

  He nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow. Grasping his outstretched hand, she pulled herself upright. Sharp pain flared in her side; it paled in comparison to the searing agony in her heart, one no poultice or potion could heal. She pushed a dark curl from Ethen’s pale face and a lump rose in her throat.

  I’ll be back. Squeezing his hand, she struggled to her feet. Denber held out the crutches, and she waved them away.

  “Ilanna, you know your hip—”

  “Is fine, Denber. It’s had a week to heal.” She straightened, hiding a grimace. “See? Good as new.”

  He eyed her. “Are you sure? You’re not just being stubborn?”

  Ilanna nodded. “I’m sure, Denber.” She laid a hand on his arm and gave him a weak smile. “But thank you.”

  Denber leaned the crutches against the wall and offered his arm. She accepted, more glad for the support than she wanted him to know. Despite her protests, she had to rest halfway down the tunnel.

  “Take your time.”

  She glared up at Denber. His eyes held no trace of mockery,
only sympathy. He carried as much of her weight as she allowed, though she refused to lean on him. She gritted her teeth against the waves of pain radiating from her hip. With grim determination, she placed one foot in front of the other. Before long, her whole body ached from the effort. She cursed herself for her stubbornness. The journey to the Menagerie seemed interminable. Relief flooded her as she limped down the last tunnel. Werrin and Willem stood waiting for her. The Hawks swung the ponderous double doors open at her approach.

  Stepping into the high-vaulted central chamber felt like entering a whole new world. The Menagerie had always been such a drab, somber place, devoid of life or warmth. Now, hundreds of candles and torches flickered in ornate sconces, filling the room with a soft golden light. The colored banners of each House hung from the wall.

  She stumbled toward the heart of the room, grimacing at the effort of hiding her limp. Her fellow apprentices waited in silence. Errik, in his robes of green. Kit, Rai, and Edgar, wearing dark robes trimmed with orange. The tyro she had known as Eight, clad in pure white. The tyro, One, with robes of red-trimmed black.

  Relief coursed through her. At least Sabat isn’t here. She didn’t think she could be in the same room as the Bloodbear without killing him. After what he did to Ethen…

  A knife twisted in her heart as she took her place between Errik and Kit. Her eyes darted to the double doors. Hope surged within her chest. Perhaps Ethen would stride through the doors, black robes and charming smile, to take his place beside her. Her hope died stillborn; no one entered the Menagerie. Ethen lay in her bed in House Hawk. He won’t be coming.

  Head held high, she faced the assembled Guild members. They lined the walls, deep hoods hiding their features from view. The House Masters stood at the fore, gilded candlesticks in their hands. The flickering light played tricks with their features.

  Master Gold’s voice boomed through the Menagerie. “Masters! Journeymen! Members of the Night Guild. Rejoice!”

  The crowd thundered. “Hail, apprentices!”

  Passing his candle to a hooded figure, Master Gold strode forward to stand before the circle of light. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tonight, we bear witness to the achievements of these apprentices. Tonight, we honor their years of work and sacrifice, and give them opportunity to join us as full-fledged Guild Members. What say ye?”

  The shout rang out again. “Hail, apprentices!”

  Master Gold turned to face the Night Guild. “For ten years, these you see before you have served the Houses of the Night Guild faithfully. They honored their Masters, obeyed the commands given, and learned the skills imparted to them.” His deep voice echoed in the high-vaulted chamber, growing in pitch and intensity as he spoke. “Each has embarked upon an Undertaking to prove himself worthy of service to the Watcher in the Dark. Let us examine them and see how they have chosen to honor our god.”

  Drawing back his hood, Master Gold faced the circle of light. His gaze traveled down the line of apprentices. “Errik, of House Serpent, step forward.”

  Errik complied and the shout rang out. “Hail, Errik of House Serpent!”

  The Guild Master turned. “Master Serpent, do you acknowledge that this apprentice has served his House with honor and dignity, obeying the commands given, and learning the skills imparted to him?”

  Master Serpent stepped forward and bared his head. He towered above Master Gold, with a heavy beard, bushy eyebrows, and a scar running across his forehead, nose, and right cheek. “In the eyes of the Watcher in the Dark, I do.”

  “Do you acknowledge that Errik of House Serpent has selected and completed an Undertaking worthy of service to the Watcher?”

  “I do.” He spoke in a voice filled with gravel.

  The two Masters exchanged bows and Master Gold turned to Errik. “Errik of House Serpent, what task did you select as your Undertaking?”

  “Master Gold, Master Serpent, assembled members of the Night Guild.” Errik showed no sign of hesitation or trepidation as he spoke. “I undertook the task of hunting down and slaying the criminal known as Malak Short-Hand.”

  Ilanna stifled a gasp. Malak Short-Hand was a Praamian killer-for-hire well known across the south of Einan. He spent a great deal of time in the city of Voramis, more to escape the justice of the Praamian Guard than any desire to live there. He stood nearly thirty hands tall, a monster of a man with a fierce reputation to match. If Errik had actually slain him, that would be an impressive feat. Master Serpent looked pleased.

  Master Gold’s face showed no sign of surprise. “Tell us, what proof do you offer that you have completed your Undertaking?”

  Errik held up open palms. “I offer the word of my fellow Serpents Crastor and Kain. They accompanied me to Voramis. There, I found and executed Malak Short-Hand.”

  The Guild Master turned to the crowd. “Crastor and Kain of House Serpent, step forward.”

  Two men clad in the dark emerald robes of House Serpent complied.

  Master Gold crossed his arms. “Do you swear before the Watcher in the Dark that the apprentice known as Errik did as he has claimed?”

  The Serpents imitated his gesture. “In the Watcher’s name, we swear.”

  “Do you swear that you provided no assistance in the completion of this Undertaking?”

  “In the Watcher’s name, we swear.” With a deep bow, the two stepped back into their place.

  “I also offer this, Master Gold.” Errik drew something from within his robes and passed it to the Guild Master. “Malak’s right hand.”

  Ilanna’s jaw dropped. Keeper’s teeth! She couldn’t take her eyes from the gnarled, withered fingers curling toward the palms. The misshapen hand that had earned Malak his name was nearly the size of her head.

  Master Gold swept a deep bow. “You have provided sufficient evidence that your Undertaking is complete, Errik of House Serpent. Master Serpent, do you accept this apprentice into your House as a Journeyman?”

  The House Master stepped forward. “I do, Master Gold.”

  “Do you accept responsibility for his actions?”

  “I do, Master Gold.”

  “Errik of House Serpent, do you swear to serve House Serpent, the Night Guild, and the Watcher in the Dark faithfully?”

  Errik’s voice rang out strong and clear. “I do, Master Gold.”

  “Do you swear to honor your House Master, your fellow Journeymen, and the apprentices who follow in your path?”

  “I do, Master Gold.” A smile tickled at the corner of his lips.

  “Then in the Watcher’s name, I welcome you to the Night Guild, Journeyman Errik of House Serpent.”

  Master Serpent passed the candle to Errik and led him from the circle of apprentices. Applause and cheers swept the room.

  Ilanna glowed with pride. If anyone deserves it, it’s him. Even after all he did to help me, he managed to complete his own Undertaking.

  Master Gold’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Ilanna of House Hawk, step forward.”

  Ilanna obeyed, gritting her teeth as pain stabbed into her hip. The pain faded as the crowd cheered her name. “Hail, Ilanna of House Hawk!”

  Heart thundering, she met Master Gold’s eyes. Master Hawk stepped up beside the Guild Master.

  “Master Hawk, do you acknowledge that this apprentice has served her House with honor and dignity, obeying the commands given, and learning the skills imparted to her?”

  The Master of House Hawk drew back his hood, revealing his hooked nose, angular features, and dark eyes. “In the eyes of the Watcher in the Dark, I do.”

  “Do you acknowledge that Ilanna of House Hawk has chosen and completed an Undertaking worthy of service to the Watcher?”

  “I do.” Bowing, he stepped back into place.

  “Ilanna of House Hawk, what task did you select as your Undertaking?”

  Ilanna’s heart raced and her words caught in her throat. She swallowed hard. Thankfully, Denber had rehearsed this moment with her.

  “Master Gol
d, Master Hawk, assembled members of the Night Guild, for my Undertaking, I selected the task of ascending and entering the Black Spire.”

  Gasps echoed from the crowd. All knew the reputation of Duke Elodon Phonnis’ tower.

  Master Gold’s expression remained impassive. “And tell us, apprentice, what proof do you offer that you have completed your Undertaking?”

  Ilanna pointed to the crowd. “I offer the testimony of Denber of House Hawk, Errik of House Serpent, and Garrill of House Hound.”

  Master Gold turned. “Those named, step forward and bear witness.”

  Errik stepped out from Master Serpent’s shadow. A figure in white robes pushed his way free of the crowd. Garrill. The brown-clad figure at the far end of the room could only be Denber.

  “Do you swear before the Watcher in the Dark that apprentice Ilanna did as she has claimed?”

  The three crossed their arms over their chests. “In the Watcher’s name, we swear.”

  Denber’s voice echoed in the vaulted room. “We three saw the lamp left shining atop the Black Spire.”

  Master Gold stroked his chin. “Do you swear that you provided no assistance in the completion of this Undertaking?”

  “In the Watcher’s name, we swear.” Bowing, the three retreated.

  Reaching into her pouch, Ilanna produced the golden pin. “I also offer this, Master Gold.”

  The Guild Master took the ornament from her. “The symbol of House Hawk.” He held it out to Master Hawk.

  He took it and turned it over in his hands. “It belonged to Journeyman Callidis.”

  The crowd gasped. Ilanna couldn’t help her own sharp intake of breath. Can it be? She’d heard countless stories about the legendary Callidis, a man whose skill rivaled even Master Hawk’s. Nearly two decades before, he’d served as Master Hawk’s second-in-command. Ten years ago, before Ilanna had been sold to the Night Guild, Callidis had gone missing. His fate had been uncertain…until now.

  Master Gold dropped his voice to a whisper. “Are you certain?”

  Master Hawk nodded. He seemed to struggle to find words. “I…I am.”