by Claire Frank
“Habrio,” Rickson said, his voice friendly as he approached a man with slicked back hair and a dark blue cloak. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”
Habrio winced and took a step back, his eyes darting around. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, don’t worry so much,” Rickson said. “I just need a little information, nothing more.”
“You’re going to get me into trouble,” Habrio said with a suspicious glance at Rhis.
“You are a well-connected man, Habrio,” Rickson said. Rhis caught a glimpse of Rickson passing a small purse to the other man. “You always seem to know more about what’s going on in this city than anyone.”
A few coins clinked as Habrio adjusted his coat. “What do you need to know?”
“We’re short a kid, a young boy about so high,” Rickson said, with a vague wave of his hand. “Might have been picked up by the City Guard not too long ago. Some kind of street fight.”
“The Guard don’t usually pick up kids,” Habrio said, scratching his head.
Rickson shrugged. “Maybe they’d grab one who seems out of place, obviously not from around here.”
“Maybe. Who is he?” Habrio asked.
“My friend’s nephew,” Rickson said, nodding to Rhis. “He’s about, what, twelve?”
“Yes,” Rhis said. “Shorter than me, dark hair. His eyes are silver, striking.”
Rickson crossed his arms. “Can you put out those feelers of yours, see if anyone might have him tucked away somewhere?”
“Sure, but I can’t keep sticking my neck out for you, no matter how much you pay,” Habrio said as he walked away.
Rhis tapped her foot, watching him leave. “Who is he?”
“Habrio? He works for the Harbormaster, but in reality he works for guys like me. Knows when the docks will be light on security or when the Guard will be making a show of patrolling certain areas of town.”
“How?”
Rickson shrugged. “Not my worry. His information is always good.”
“A bit jumpy, isn’t he?”
“I think it’s mostly an act. He goes on about how he’s going to lose his job and it’s going to ruin him. That’s never stopped him from taking my coin—which, by the way, you now owe me five more.”
“Add it to the rest.”
Scruffy gulls circled overhead and the setting sun sparkled on the harbor. Rhis stood with her arms crossed, struggling to contain her restlessness. After what seemed an interminable wait, Habrio walked back toward the docks, his shoulders shrugged up near his ears.
“Damn you, Rickson,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t get involved with your trouble.”
Rickson’s brow furrowed. “What trouble? What are you talking about?”
Habrio looked around as if expecting something to jump out of the lengthening shadows. “The Guard didn’t pick up any kids today. Chased off some grubby louts a few streets over, but they didn’t take anyone in.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Rickson asked.
“You should have told me he was a Wielder.”
Rickson’s mouth hung open for a long moment and he turned toward Rhis. “A Wielder? What is he talking about?”
“He’s not a Wielder,” Rhis said. “His eyes are an unusual color, but he gets it from his father. It doesn’t mean he’s a Wielder.”
“Someone thought he must be,” Habrio said, “because the local Guild chapter came and picked him up.”
“How do you know it was him?” Rhis asked.
“Young boy, not from around here, dark hair and silver eyes?” Habrio said. “The Guild has him.”
Rhis closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her forehead. The Guild. That was worse than the City Guard. Far worse. If the Guild had Asher, Rhis had no idea how she was going to get him out.
“That’s a complication,” Rickson said.
Rhis shook her head. “Do you know where to find the Guild House?”
“I do, but—”
“Then let’s go. We’ll figure out what to do on the way.”
FOURTEEN: THE GUILD
Rhis’s mind raced as they walked up the street, angling away from the harbor. This posed a problem she was not prepared for. She’d had a run-in with the Guild once before, so she understood how the organization worked, but it wasn’t something she was eager to repeat. Although the lands of the Empire were governed locally, the Guild was a constant, representing the will of the Emperor himself. A visit from the Guild was rarely a good thing, and most people kept well clear of its members.
“Have you dealt with the Guild before?” Rhis asked, knowing the likely answer.
“No, can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Rickson said.
There was something in his tone that made Rhis glance over at him. Did he sound excited?
“What’s the plan?” Rickson said. “You certainly aren’t going to walk in the front door and ask to see your nephew.”
Rhis considered as they turned a corner into a busy marketplace. Walking in the front door could be the right move. Often people didn’t question someone who acted as if they belonged. But that sort of operation would require days of planning to get right, and they didn’t have time. Plus, the people inside would see her face. She didn’t want the Guild knowing who she was, nor what she looked like, even under an assumed identity. Rickson was right; walking in the front door wasn’t an option.
That meant they needed to break in.
“I need to get a look at the building first,” Rhis said as they turned another corner, leaving the noise of the market behind.
Rickson led her to the far side of town. The street cleared, the passersby disappearing, as they approached an imposing, triangular building with towers in each of the three corners. The stark stone was in good repair, clean in contrast to most of soot-stained Varale. No guards were visible, but Rhis knew they were there. Most likely they were inside; it was the sort of place that guarded against people going out, rather than coming in.
After passing the building, they kept going, circling around a side street. They stopped, ducking into the shadow of a wide alley, where they had a view of the building. Rickson started to speak but Rhis shushed him, holding up her hand for quiet. She waited, watching the building, then told Rickson to stay while she did another lap.
“What do you think?” Rickson asked when she returned.
“Getting to the building won’t be a problem,” she said. “It’s wide open with very few places to hide, but the distance from the street to the building isn’t far.”
“I guess people breaking in isn’t their biggest concern,” Rickson said. “No one in their right mind wants to get into the Guild house.”
“Exactly, and we can use that.” Rhis put a finger to her lips and considered. She hated not having time to do proper research. “Do you see many Gray Cloaks in Varale?”
“No, not particularly,” Rickson said.
“Good. That’s how we get in.”
“Wait,” Rickson said, putting his hand up. “Of the three wings of the Guild, the Gray Cloaks are clearly the worst.” Rhis nodded in agreement. “And instead of avoiding their building like the plague of hellfire that it is, you want to break in that way?”
“How many Gray Cloaks do you think are in there? One? Two? Varale is too small to warrant a large presence, unless they’ve uncovered a powerful Wielder here. If that were the case, your friend at the dock would have known about it. Really, the whole city would know about it. The Gray Cloaks have a way of making their presence felt.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Rickson muttered.
“Our best bet is the Gray Cloak wing. It won’t be guarded. Once we’re in, we can make our way to the main wing and find Asher.”
“You do realize how many things could go wrong?” Rickson said.
“I realize that I don’t have time to concoct a better plan,” Rhis said. “I can’t risk losing that boy and the longer he’s in there, the less of
a chance I have of getting him out.”
Rickson rubbed his hands together.
“You look as if you’re enjoying this,” Rhis said.
He grinned. “A Guild heist? I’ve never had occasion to break into a Guild House. I do love a challenge.”
***
Flickering lamps illuminated the building and cast wavering shadows across the courtyard. Rhis and Rickson crouched in the dark, wedged in an alley across the street. While they had waited for night to fall, Rhis had left Rickson watching the building and taken a quick trip back to her room to retrieve her tools.
“You’re certain you didn’t see any guards outside?” she asked in a low whisper.
“Not one,” Rickson said.
“Good. Stay low and keep close. The Gray Cloaks’ wing is on the left.”
Rickson blew out a breath. “Okay, you lead the way.”
They darted across the street and past the shrubs that lined the walkway in front of the Guild house. Keeping out of the rings of light cast by the lamps, they snuck around the tower at the corner and veered along the line of the wall. Halfway down, they came to a recessed doorway. Rhis pulled out a small tool and fiddled with the lock, working until the lock clicked and the door released. With a quick glance around, she pulled open the door and they both slipped inside.
Rhis squinted against the darkness in the foyer, Rickson pressing close behind her. Corridors led in two directions, one to their right and the other to their left. The right hand passage should take them to the front wing of the building, where they were most likely to find Asher. Padding down the hallway on soft feet, she was impressed by Rickson’s silent passage behind her. The man clearly knew what he was about.
Closed doors dotted the left side of the corridor, but it was otherwise empty. Rhis’s heart hammered as they moved deeper into the Guild house. They came to a turn and she held her breath. Pressing herself against the wall, she peeked around the corner and waited. The hallway was dim, but deserted, and she nodded Rickson forward.
The next turn was lit by a soft glow, and they slowed as they approached the corner. Rhis darted a quick glance around the bend and ducked back into the dark hallway.
“Guards,” she said, barely letting her breath move past her lips.
“How many?” Rickson mouthed.
“Lots.”
“Gray Cloaks?”
Rhis shook her head. They were lucky.
Voices drifted down the hall. There were at least ten men, and the sound of footsteps made Rhis wonder if there were more. She took another quick glance around the corner. More doors lined the corridor on both sides and she heard the click of one closing. With a nod, she motioned for Rickson to go back the way they’d come, and they retreated away from the lights and voices.
“Asher should be somewhere in this area,” Rhis said, keeping her voice low. “But we need to get rid of those Guild Members so we can check the rooms.”
“And how do we do that?”
Rhis leaned her head back against the wall, considering. “We need a distraction.”
“At this point, we might as well light the place on fire,” Rickson said.
“Fire. That’s good.”
“What? No, I wasn’t serious. We can’t start a fire.”
“Of course we can,” Rhis said. “There were oil lamps outside. We can grab one of them, bring it in here, get a blaze going. Some of those men will leave to put out the fire. In the chaos, we find the boy.”
“I need to stop letting you make the plans,” Rickson said.
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
Rickson was silent for a moment. “Not really. But if this gets us killed, it is absolutely your fault.”
“I can live with that,” Rhis said. “Let’s get the lantern.”
They crept back toward the entrance and Rickson ducked outside, bringing a lamp back with him. The foyer blazed to life in the lantern light, showing a small writing desk and a few chairs.
“Well?” Rickson asked, holding up the light.
Rhis glanced around. “This is as good a place as any.” She grabbed the chairs and moved them near the wall, then pushed the writing desk next to them.
Rickson took a deep breath, then tossed the lamp onto the crowd of furniture. The glass broke, spraying oil over the wood and onto the wall. Flames spread quickly along the fuel, catching the dry wood. They watched it for a moment to make sure it wouldn’t sputter out, then dashed down the corridor toward the front wing.
Rhis chose a door, hoping the room was empty, and picked the lock. The door opened into darkness, the bit of light from the corridor revealing nothing inside. They slipped through the door, leaving it open a crack, and waited.
Long moments passed and no sound came from the hallway. Rhis counted her heartbeats, forcing her shoulders to relax as the number ticked higher. Rickson shifted on his feet next to her as she patted her pockets, running a quick mental inventory of her weapons. She pulled out her pouch of darts and tucked it into her belt so they’d be ready. Blades would be a last resort; the last thing she wanted to do was leave a string of Guild bodies behind. Neutralizing a few might not raise as much ire, but if she started killing them, she risked a team of Gray Cloaks on her heels. She already had enough people who wanted her dead, she didn’t need to add the Guild to the mix.
Smoke drifted in, first a wisp so faint it could have been her imagination, then growing thicker as the fire grew. Soon a steady stream of smoke poured in, clinging to the ceiling, and they crouched low to keep out of the worst of it.
“I think the fire might be burning a little too well,” Rickson said in a whisper.
Rhis didn’t answer. Footsteps and voices grew, coming from the direction of the main wing. She kept her face close to the crack as several Guild Members rushed by, shouting “Fire” over their shoulders. More followed, their feet pounding down the hallway, rushed instructions yelled at their fellows behind. A dull roar grew, and Rhis realized the flames must have caught the inner walls.
“If they don’t put it out, the whole building could burn down,” Rickson said.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll be long gone,” Rhis whispered back. She watched another set of feet race past as smoke filled the hallway. Pulling her hood over her head and attaching her veil, as much to give her something to shield the smoke as hide her face, she stood. “Now.”
Smoke burned her eyes as she emerged into the hall, Rickson following close behind. They darted down the corridor, away from the fire, and turned a corner. Another turn loomed ahead, the glow of lamps still showing. Rushing down the hallway, she turned away from the light, leading them into the shadows where they pressed their back against the wall. Several men still stood guard farther down; they huddled in the center, talking and pointing. One coughed and they all looked up at the ceiling, the puffs of smoke billowing through the hall, edging forward like a wave of gray.
With a few more animated gestures, two guards broke off and rushed in the direction of the smoke, lifting their shirts to cover their faces. Rhis and Rickson ducked further into the shadows, pressing against the wall. Only three men remained, so Rhis pulled three darts, holding them between two fingers, all in a line. She took aim and threw, tagging one man in the back of the neck. He brushed at it, still speaking to the others. In less than a heartbeat she hit the second man, and the first wobbled on his feet. Rhis counted one more heartbeat, then threw the third dart. Her target moved at the last second and the dart sailed by, pinging harmlessly off the wall, while the first two men crumpled to the ground.
“Shit.” Rhis plucked another dart from her pouch. Four left. The guard’s eyes found her as she threw and it stuck him in the soft hollow at the base of his throat. His mouth dropped open and his legs wobbled with each step as he tried to charge for her. Rhis stood from her crouch, watching as he fell forward, propelled by his momentum, and crashed face first to the ground.
She glanced over her shoulder at Rickson. “Let’s find the kid an
d get out of here.”
Rhis ran to the first downed guard and hoisted him onto his back. His breathing was shallow, but he’d wake with nothing worse than a roiling stomach and a deal to answer for to his superiors. Patting him down, Rhis looked for keys, but found none.
“Here,” Rickson said. He held up a small ring with several dangling keys, and tossed it to Rhis.
The smoke grew thicker as Rhis tried the first door. It looked more like a room at an inn than any sort of cell, with a small bed, a washing table and hooks on the wall. A girl with tangled brown hair sat on the bed, her eyes wide with shock as Rhis looked in.
“Not the boy, but this must be the right area,” Rhis said as she pulled back into the hallway. “You keep watch. I’ll check the other rooms.”
“How about we both check rooms, and we get this done quick,” Rickson said, producing his own lock picking tools from an inner pocket.
Rhis nodded and moved to the next door while Rickson tried the ones on the other side. The first key she tried didn’t fit, and she groaned. If they had to try every door in this place, it was going to take too long. The faint sound of shouting drifted from the direction of the Gray Cloak wing, but Rhis found the right key and pushed another door inward. Empty.
“Hey!”
A guard ran down the hallway, his face full of confusion. Rickson stepped into the center, drawing a long dagger, and the guard hesitated. Rhis pocketed the ring of keys and drew out another dart, careful not to nick herself with the tip. The poison wouldn’t knock her out, but it would make her nauseated for hours. The guard hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. He took careful steps toward Rickson, his hand reaching for a weapon, as he demanded to know who Rickson was. With a flick of her wrist, Rhis tagged him with the dart. She didn’t wait to see him fall, but went right back to checking the doors, the low thud telling her he’d fallen.
“Thanks,” Rickson said over his shoulder.