Clocks and Daggers (The Thief's Apprentice Book 2)

by Sara C. Roethle

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “And you needed to lure me to a dark warehouse all the way across the city to tell me this?”

  She bit her lip, as if debating what to say next. “Honestly, I didn’t want to be associated with the price on your head,” she explained. “I feared even sending your sister to deliver the message. It could be very dangerous for us.”

  “Glad to see you were willing to risk her head instead of yours,” he replied caustically. The entire evening was a complete waste of time. “I’ll find the information on my own.”

  His mother reached out toward him pleadingly, but did not speak. He’d had enough. His mother was the same woman she’d always been, using everyone, even her own children, to save her hide.

  He turned to leave, and this time she did not protest.

  Liliana stared up at him, and he almost thought she might demand he hear his mother out, but in the end she did not speak. They exited the building with Ephraim following behind.

  Arhyen’s mind whirled like an angry storm. Anger at what, he was not sure. Any emotion he felt toward his mother had died a long time ago. Perhaps he was simply angry that Ephraim and Liliana had witnessed the exchange. Neither commented as they walked back in the direction they’d come. Arhyen didn’t bother to hide on the roofs this time. If his mother had intended to collect the price on his head, she would have captured him inside the warehouse.

  He grunted in irritation. If she didn’t want the price on his head, what did she want? He knew she wouldn’t be trying to help Liliana, a girl she didn’t even know, simply to save Arhyen the trouble. No, his mother was plotting something. He would have been wise to persist in ferreting it out of her, but he didn’t have the stomach for it. He’d much rather just go back to pretending she no longer existed.

  Once they rounded a corner, putting the warehouse out of sight, Ephraim stopped and extended a closed hand toward Arhyen. Confused, he opened his palm beneath Ephraim’s outstretched appendage. Ephraim’s fingers unfurled, dropping a small coin into Arhyen’s hand. The Caduceus on the coin glinted in the moonlight.

  He turned his eyes up to Ephraim in shock. “She was carrying this?”

  He nodded. “She dropped it when she went for my pistol.”

  Arhyen’s shoulders slumped. Was he surprised his mother was likely involved in the grave-robbings? Not hardly.

  As they began walking again, he handed the coin to Liliana. She examined it, then turned her eyes up to him. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll explain later,” he muttered. Right then, he just wanted to get home.

  “Have we any clue who this woman is claiming to be Liliana’s mother?” Ephraim questioned a few minutes later.

  Liliana, walking to Arhyen’s left, shook her head. “She obviously doesn’t know what I am.”

  Ephraim snorted. “Or she knows, but is hoping no one else does.”

  “Or it was simply a ruse, made up by my mother,” Arhyen added.

  Liliana fell silent. Arhyen knew he should say something comforting, but didn’t have it in him. This new possible threat was a worry for tomorrow, just another item on the list to investigate. He could sense Liliana continuously glancing at him, but kept his gaze forward. He knew he was not ready to see whatever emotions might lurk in those depths.

  The journey back to the coal carriage was uneventful. Liliana once again wished she could observe London Bridge more closely, but instead had followed silently as Arhyen led them down dark streets toward the carriage.

  Once they were all inside, Ephraim reignited the boiler, then resumed his position at the front of the carriage to bring them home. Hopefully she would not get sick this time. She wasn’t sure she could handle yet another odd encounter that evening. The last one, she sensed, had been quite enough for everyone.

  She glanced at Arhyen, once again sitting beside her on the carriage bench. She desperately wanted to ask him about his mother, but resisted. He’d never spoken of her before. He’d never spoken of family in general. It was why she had been unable to remain hidden outside the warehouse. The moment she heard Arhyen declare the woman his mother, she just had to see for herself.

  Now she wanted to know more. She’d never had a mother, and would never know motherhood herself. Hearing Arhyen’s experiences was likely the closest she would ever get.

  With a sigh, she gazed past Ephraim out the front window. The Market District was at its emptiest. She sensed dawn was not far off. All the late night denizens had gone home for the night. Soon the streets would fill with the scent of baking bread and pastries as the cafe owners began to stock their shelves for the morning crowds.

  She’d been out at this hour with Arhyen several times. Usually she looked forward to it. It was peaceful when the streets were empty, and they could talk quietly with no one around to hear. Arhyen would often give her his coat, though she didn’t really feel the cold. Not like normal humans, anyway. Those thoughts now made her sad, as Arhyen was definitely not in the mood for their usual relaxed conversations. He was not in the mood for any type of conversations, apparently.

  She glanced at him again to see his eyes boring a hole into the back of Ephraim’s head. She surmised the gaze had little to do with Ephraim, and that any object Arhyen’s eyes landed on in that moment would receive the same treatment. That idea actually made her glad he was currently refusing to look at her.

  Ephraim took the final turns that would lead back to where they’d originally boarded the carriage. Soon they came to a halt, and Arhyen stood. He walked in front of Liliana to open the door, then hopped out into the street.

  Ephraim glanced back at her. “I’ve business to attend to for most of the day today,” he explained. “I’ll check in later this evening.”

  She nodded, then stood and walked toward the open door. At first she didn’t see Arhyen, and her heart dropped as she thought he might have abandoned her, then he stepped into view and offered her his hand. She took it and climbed down onto the dark street.

  Ephraim shut the door behind her, then the carriage rumbled away into the darkness. Dropping her hand without a word, Arhyen started off in the direction of the apartment.

  Liliana glanced around warily as she hurried after him. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to creep across the roofs of the taller buildings, leaving the shorter ones still cast in shadow. Arhyen’s trim back blended in with the lingering darkness of the streets. She reached his side, but did not glance up at him. He was treating her almost like . . . her father had. Like she did not truly exist.

  Maybe she didn’t.

  By the time they reached the apartment, she had sunk into a depressed fugue. Arhyen began unlocking the door mechanically. Finished, he opened it, then finally glanced at her. He visibly jumped at her expression.

  “What on earth is the matter with you?” he asked, jaw slightly agape. The sunlight had finally reached the street, highlighting the deep purple bags beneath his honey brown eyes.

  Liliana was glad he didn’t gaze at her like he’d gazed at Ephraim, but still found herself lacking a reply.

  He ushered her into the apartment and shut the door behind them.

  Walking away from him, she stepped over the tripwire near the threshold and removed the cap from her head. Though she didn’t tire like normal humans, sleep was heavy on her mind. She’d welcome the oblivion of a dreamless rest.

  Arhyen suddenly appeared at her side. He gently took hold of her arm and guided her to sit on the sofa. Though they hadn’t turned on any lights, there was enough fresh sunlight filtering through the curtains to see by.

  Liliana placed her hands in her lap and looked down at them as Arhyen took a seat beside her.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

  She suppressed a shiver. How could he act like everything was normal after he’d dutifully ignored her the entire ride home? She forced herself to meet his gaze, her eyes threatening to well with tears.

  He appeared dumbfounded. “Why won’t you answer me
?”

  She bit her lip. Had she imagined it all? Surely not. She’d never seen Arhyen in such a state before. “During our journey here, you began to remind me of my father,” she blurted before she could help herself.

  Arhyen’s eyes widened in surprise, then he frowned. “I’m sensing that’s not a compliment.”

  Was he really that daft? “You acted as if I did not exist,” she clarified. “Not that it’s your job to act otherwise,” she added quickly. It really wasn’t his problem. She suddenly felt terribly silly for being upset.

  His expression softened. “I apologize.” He let out a long sigh and slumped back against the sofa cushion. “I had not seen my mother in over six years, and had hoped I never would again.”

  Liliana furrowed her brow. Though Fairfax Breckinridge had not been her true father, she still sometimes wished she could see him again. Though she’d come to understand he hadn’t really loved her, there had been a certain sort of affection there, and at times, she missed it. She didn’t understand never wanting to see one’s parent ever again.

  He rolled his gaze to her, seeming to pick up on her confusion. “The last time I saw her,” he explained, “she was trying to hand me over to the Watch for crimes I didn’t even commit. She was in trouble, and was willing to sacrifice her only son to get out of it. If my sister had still been around at the time, she would have used her as cannon fodder too.”

  Liliana felt herself slowly relaxing. She wasn’t sure she understood Arhyen’s relationship with his mother, but at least his behavior seemed to be wearing off. “What happened to your sister?” she asked softly.

  He sighed again. “Ran off when we were still kids. Can’t say that I blamed her. I only stayed as long as I did because I felt obligated to take care of our mother. She gave me life, after all.”

  Liliana settled in against the sofa cushion, then glanced over at him. “Will you try to find your sister now that you know she’s around?”

  Arhyen smiled sadly. “I imagine we’ll be seeing both her and Catherine some time soon.”

  “Catherine is your mother’s name?” Liliana questioned, confused. She’d only ever called her father, well, father.

  He nodded. “I haven’t figured out what she wants from me, but it will become clear eventually. I can only hope that she won’t interfere with everything else we have going on.” He waved his hand in a circular motion, encompassing the everything else.

  She nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry you had to see her.”

  He turned his head to look at her with a soft smile. “I’m sorry you were brought into the middle of it.”

  She returned his smile, feeling immensely relieved. “I’m not sure what future trouble your mother will cause, but I imagine it will be nowhere near the trouble my father has caused you, so there is no need to apologize.”

  He shook his head. “Your father has brought only good things, I assure you, at least as far as my life is concerned . . . ” he hesitated.

  “What is it?” she pressed.

  He slumped deeper into the sofa cushions. “I came across your father’s grave when I was . . . investigating. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. They’d left her father’s corpse in his underground compound, far from London. Had he truly been brought all of that way for burial?

  “Liliana?” Arhyen questioned, making her realize she had not blinked or taken a breath for a prolonged period of time.

  She inhaled sharply, coming back to reality.

  “I should have told you sooner,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure if I’d tell you at all.”

  She blinked at him in confusion. “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose I was afraid you’d want to visit his grave to mourn, and I selfishly decided he did not deserve your tears . . . but I will take you there if that is your wish.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure. I might like to go at some point, but not now. If a normal person would go to their father’s grave to mourn, perhaps I should eventually do the same.”

  Arhyen lifted his hand and patted her shoulder. “Think on it as long as you wish. For now, we should get some sleep. As soon as we wake we’ll try to figure out just who is claiming to be your mother.”

  She pursed her lips. “I think we have far more pressing matters to attend to, namely the price on your head, and our orders from Hamlet.”

  Arhyen smirked. “Those two I’m saving for this evening.”

  Liliana smiled, feeling cheered despite the events of the day. “Ephraim is supposed to come by then, after he has completed his other work.”

  Arhyen chuckled. “Perfect. He can do the difficult work.”

  He stood and offered Liliana a hand up, though as soon as she stood, he flopped back down, stretching his body across the sofa. She smiled and turned toward the bed. She was always forgetting that he needed rest, while for her, it was just a nice reprieve.

  She took a deep breath, then looked over her shoulder at him. “Arhyen?”

  “Mmm?” he questioned, already half asleep.

  She smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “Thank you.”

  “Fer what?” he mumbled as she walked away.

  “For not being like my father,” she muttered, soft enough that he would not hear, as she approached the bathroom to change.

  A few second later he began to snore. She found the sound pleasant rather than vexing. A conscious reminder that she was no longer alone.

  Chapter 7

  Arhyen woke with a pounding headache. The sun was blaring through the curtains. Calculating it was around noon, he sat up on the sofa and glanced over at the bed. Liliana was a still lump beneath the covers. For someone who didn’t actually require rest, she sure could sleep.

  With a groan, he lowered his feet to the floor. The previous day felt more like a week, and he had the soreness in his limbs to prove it, not to mention the bitter aftereffects of seeing his mother. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but the meeting had completely thrown him. He’d never expected his mother to contact him again after the last time. He’d escaped the prison sentence she’d set him up for, but only narrowly.

  He rose from the sofa, stretched, and headed toward the stove. The days were growing colder and shorter, so that even at noon there was a chill in the apartment. Hot tea was called for.

  Reaching the kitchen area, he filled the kettle with water, lit the burner, then crept back across the apartment toward the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was going to be another long one. He wanted to focus on finding the woman claiming to be Liliana’s mother, if she even existed, but knew the price on his head would likely interfere, not to mention the impending threat of Hamlet. He would need to devote some time toward investigating the grave-robberies, lest he risk the LN turning its attention toward Liliana.

  By the time he exited the bathroom, Liliana had risen and finished preparing the tea. She now waited for him on the sofa, where they sipped their tea every morning. It was their oddly comfortable routine.

  It had occurred to Arhyen many times how inappropriate their set up was, an unmarried man and woman sleeping in the same room every night, and having tea together every morning. High society would scoff at them, labeling him a cad, and Liliana a harlot. Fortunately, he didn’t give a damn about high society, or what they might think of his living arrangements. It was nice having someone around to finish preparing the tea. It provided a level of human comfort he’d never truly experienced before. Once he’d finally been able to afford a true home, he’d always lived alone.

  Liliana still wore her night shift, another thing most would find inappropriate, though the shift had long sleeves and went down to her ankles. Her red hair was loose, hanging nearly to her waist. He took a seat beside her and lifted his teacup from the low table in front of the couch.

  Liliana cleared her throat. “So what are we going to do about Allistair Walmsley?”

  Arhyen nearly spilled his tea at the abrupt
question. Regaining his composure, he considered his answer. Viola’s brother would likely not call off his search until he was dead. Though he hoped to avoid that option, he was not sure what else he could do.

  “That’s a secondary problem right now,” he assured her, requiring more time to think upon the subject. “One we can do little about,” he added tiredly.

  “We cannot simply allow him to continue sending men after you,” she argued. “Perhaps Ephraim can do something about it.”

  Arhyen sighed. “You do realize Ephraim is simply a detective, not a personal consort of the Queen? He may hold some sway with the Watch, but he cannot control the London elite.”

  She blinked her blue eyes at him for several seconds, considering his reply. “Then who can control the London elite?” she questioned.

  He frowned. There was always the option of attempting to assassinate Allistair Walmsley. Viola and Clayton Blackwood had died easily enough, but Arhyen disliked the idea of premeditated murder. He had killed before, but only in self defense, and it was an outcome he did his best to avoid. Another idea struck him, but it was almost too ridiculous to voice. Unfortunately, Liliana’s unfaltering stare demanded answers.

  He sighed. “I suppose if one of London’s high-standing citizens committed a big enough crime, they would be stripped of title and imprisoned . . . or hanged. As Viola’s brother, I would not be surprised if Mr. Walmsley commits crimes on a daily basis, but catching him in the act and publicizing it is another matter. Still, perhaps a bit of research into Mr. Walmsley’s character cannot hurt.”

  Liliana nodded. “Then that shall be our first task.”

  He sipped his tea in thought. He wanted to focus on Liliana’s mother, but since they’d just be out looking for rumors, they could try finding information on Allistair too. Finally he nodded. “It will be our first task, along with finding out if the woman claiming to be your mother actually exists. These rumors often tend to run together, and truly, I would not be surprised if some of these cases are connected.”

  “And what of Hamlet’s demands?” she inquired.