Of course, she’d have to do it without the Guild finding out. Nobles who paid for the Crown’s protection were exempt from depredation. King Ohilmos more than compensated the Guild to keep its Journeymen in line. If caught, she’d hang. Worse, she’d face punishment at the hands of the Guild. No one broke the Guild’s laws.
But Ilanna knew better. The Guild had only one law she needed to remember: don’t get caught. She’d learned that the hard way. She fingered the leather strap curled around her right wrist. A memory of Ethen. He’d taught her how to use the sling. She couldn’t bring herself to use it, not after that night. But she kept it close. She wanted it to remember him.
To remember what had happened. And what she’d done to the bastard who’d laid his hands on her.
Padding across the rooftop, Ilanna slipped into her harness and threw herself off the edge of the mansion. The metal rings sang as she sped across the aerial runway. The world flashed past at a tremendous speed, and she bit back a delighted laugh. Years roaming the rooftops of Praamis hadn’t dulled the thrill of flying. No one but a Hawk knew the true joy of seeing the world from above.
Her harness jerked as the metal rings snagged on the secondary rope. With deft movements, Ilanna unclipped the carabiner from the braided steel cable. She slid out of the harness and stuffed it into a satchel left beneath the eaves of a nearby roof. Jarl or one of the other Pathfinders would be along soon to remove the steel cable that bridged the gap to Lord Ulimar’s mansion.
Now to return to the Guild and let Master Hawk know the mission was a success.
After the stealth and silence of Lord Ulimar’s mansion, Ilanna couldn’t resist the urge to run free. She raced across the rooftops of Praamis, vaulting obstacles and swinging across open air. Muscles strengthened by years of training cushioned the impact of long jumps or drops, and pulled her lithe, compact body up walls twice her height. Her leather harness, bracer, and boots made no sound as she raced along the Hawk’s Highway.
The wind tugged a few strands of her long, dark hair free of its tight tail. Her dark grey cloak streamed behind her. She felt like a bird flying through the night. Up here, she was alone with the moon, stars, and open sky.
She hesitated at the entrance to House Hawk. The oppressive air of the Guild tunnels held little appeal after the cool breeze and star-filled heavens. But it was more than that. Down in the maze of passages, she would have to face people. She would have to face men.
Just a few more minutes.
She sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling. The first rays of sunlight trickled over the horizon. The dull grey of dawn crept closer with every heartbeat.
As ever, her eyes sought out the towering Black Spire that rose high above Praamis. Once, the tower had challenged the Night Guild, mocked the thieves with its impregnability. Since Master Gold’s success many years ago, every Guild member who wanted to make a name for themselves had attempted to break in. All had failed.
All but her.
For her Undertaking, she had defeated the Black Spire. It had nearly killed her, but she had survived the ascent and descent of the tower. She’d brought back proof of her success—a golden pin that once belonged to Journeyman Callidis, a Hawk who had died in a failed attempt. She had proven herself worthy of the Hawk name. She’d earned her place as a Journeyman.
Now, the Black Spire looked small, almost pitiful. The monument—a remnant of the ancient Serenii, some said—no longer mocked her with its impossible heights. It stood as testament to Ilanna’s skill and ingenuity. Any time members of the Night Guild looked up at the obsidian tower, they would think of her.
Taking a deep breath, Ilanna climbed to her feet and ducked through the window that led to the Aerie. Lanterns shining far below illuminated the familiar maze of ropes, ladders, and wooden walkways. The Perch.
She’d spent countless hours high above the packed earth floor of House Hawk. In the Aerie, she’d found a home, friends. Something that came close to replacing the family she’d lost the day her mother and baby Rose died. The Aerie held many good memories. Bad ones, too.
She swooped through the Perch at a speed Ilanna the apprentice would have found terrifying. That girl had been young, scared, weak. Journeyman Ilanna of House Hawk was none of those things. She’d proven her strength when she defeated the Black Spire, when she hacked Sabat to pieces with the same blade he used on her friend.
She fingered the leather strap around her wrist. Ilanna the scared little girl had died the same day as Ethen.
About the Author:
Andy Peloquin
I am, first and foremost, a storyteller and an artist—words are my palette. Fantasy is my genre of choice, and I love to explore the darker side of human nature through the filter of fantasy heroes, villains, and everything in between. I’m also a freelance writer, a book lover, and a guy who just loves to meet new people and spend hours talking about my fascination for the worlds I encounter in the pages of fantasy novels.
Fantasy provides us with an escape, a way to forget about our mundane problems and step into worlds where anything is possible. It transcends age, gender, religion, race, or lifestyle—it is our way of believing what cannot be, delving into the unknowable, and discovering hidden truths about ourselves and our world in a brand new way. Fiction at its very best!
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www.andypeloquin.com
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Other Books by Andy Peloquin
The Last Bucelarii (Book 1):
Blade of the Destroyer
The Hunter of Voramis is the perfect assassin: ruthless, unrelenting, immortal. Haunted by lost memories, he is bonded to a cursed dagger that feeds him power but denies him peace of mind. Within him rages an unquenchable need for blood and death.
When he accepts a contract to avenge the stolen innocence of a girl, the Hunter becomes the prey. The death of a seemingly random target sends him hurtling toward destruction, yet could his path also lead to the truth of his buried past?
Praise for Blade of the Destroyer:
“Creative, gritty, and beautifully dark…fantasy addicts will love it!”
—Peter Story, author of Things Grak Hates
“The fantasy world has a compelling new antihero…the Hunter will terrify and captivate you.”
—EJ Bouinatchova, author of Soothbound
Find the Book on Amazon
The Last Bucelarii (Book 2):
Lament of the Fallen
The Hunter of Voramis is no more.
Alone with the bloodthirsty voices in his head, fleeing the pain of loss, he has one objective: travel north to find Her, the mystery woman who plagues his dreams and haunts his memories.
When he stumbles upon a bandit attack, something within urges him to help. His actions set him at odds with the warrior priests commanded to hunt down the Bucelarii.
Left for dead, the Hunter must travel to Malandria to recover his stolen birthright. There, he is inexorably drawn into direct conflict with the Order of Midas, the faceless, nameless group of magicians that holds the city in a grip of terror. All while struggling to silence the ever-louder voice in his mind that drives him to kill.
From feared assassin to wretched outcast, the Hunter’s journey leads him to truths about his forgotten past and the Abiarazi he has pledged to hunt. His discoveries will shed light on who he really is…what he really is.
Praise for Lament of the Fallen:
This book will have you on the edge of your seat!
—Chasity Nicole, author of Wickedly Misunderstood
An intriguing protagonist – or should I say antagonist – kept me turning the pages. The Hunter is the Hannibal Lecter of dark fantasy.
—Josh Rutherford, author of Sons of Chenia
Find the Book on Amazon
Child of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 1) Page 38