The Thief Queen's Daughter

by Elizabeth Haydon

  As they turned onto one last street, the crowd began to peel away, leaving only the ravens circling above them.

  At the end of that street stood a building larger than any Ven had seen since entering the Market. Like the others inside the Gated City, it had an odor of decay about it, but it was grand in size and scale. Huge pillars of carved dark stone held up the roof, while the walls were formed of sculpted granite with no visible windows in the front. The building seemed to go back forever. A tall tower hovered above the roof in the center, around which more black birds than Ven had ever seen in his life put together were roosting.

  Out in front of the building were rich gardens blooming with beautiful flowers, mostly in purple and white, some red, carefully tended. A neat pathway led through the gardens up to the heavy brass door in the center of the windowless wall. In the center of the door was a brass knocker shaped like a raven, its feet clutching a brass necklace set with brass gems. Ven suspected that while this door might be usable, most of the people who entered this establishment did so from other hidden entrances.

  “The Raven’s Nest?” he murmured quietly to Ida.

  Ida nodded ever-so-slightly in return.

  Wonderful, Ven thought.

  Ida marched up the path, the other three close behind, seized the knocker, and banged loudly on the door.

  It opened very quickly, as if she was expected.

  A thin man with very thin, white hair, an oversized skull and deep-set eyes, was standing in the doorway.

  “Miss Ida,” he said in a brittle, thin voice. “So nice to see you back home again. We’ve missed you.”

  Ida’s face did not change. “Take me to my mother.”

  The thin man smiled unpleasantly. “As you wish.” He held the door open wider so that all of them could enter, then closed it quickly behind them.

  It was very dark within the foyer of the Raven’s Nest. A single lantern burned near the doorway, casting light down a long, dark hallway ahead.

  The thin man walked over to a wall to the right of the hallway where many long-handled levers jutted. He took hold of two of them and pulled, then moved farther along the wall and pulled a few more.

  Horrible grinding noises could be heard down the dark hallway.

  Suddenly a wall slid out of the left side of the hall, blocking it off and revealing a different passageway, this one running in the opposite direction.

  “They change the entrances and exits bunches of times a day,” Ida muttered under her breath. “Don’t bother to memorize where you are. It’ll be different in a few minutes.”

  All three of the others sighed in unison.

  The thin man led them down several twisting corridors, all of them without light. Ven could hear Clemency and Char stumble on occasion, but his Nain eyes had little trouble adjusting to the darkness.

  After what seemed like forever wandering through hallways that circled back on themselves, they finally came to a place where the corridor ended.

  Directly across from them was a wall of rough bricks and stones, mostly dark, on which had been sculpted a huge three-dimensional dragon, cruel-looking and sinister. It had obviously been carved from the stone of the wall, but it was so real-looking that Ven could have sworn he saw its narrow, glinting eyes move. A second later he thought he saw it breathe.

  The stone dragon was draped over the top of what appeared to be a keyhole-shaped doorway. Its top claws clutched the lintel above the door, while its lower body hung down the side and curled around the bottom, so that someone would have to step over its tail to enter the doorway.

  Instead of empty space, the doorway opening appeared to be made of stone as well. In the center of it was a jumbled pattern of stone puzzle pieces that looked like they formed a key when correctly assembled.

  The thin man stepped aside and gestured at the doorway.

  “Would you like to open the dragon trap again, Miss Ida?” he asked politely. “It’s always such a thrill to watch you do it, a true artist at work.”

  Ida’s stoic expression relaxed into her usual smirk.

  “I dunno,” she said. “Are you gettin’ rusty? It would be so much more fun to watch you burn to cinders.”

  Ven looked down. On the floor and walls around him were scorch marks, signs of fire and soot. Dust and ash clung to the cracks in the floor.

  The thin man smirked in return, then went over to the wall. He stared at the puzzle pieces for a moment, then reached out and carefully slid one into place.

  The picture on it disappeared, leaving the stone piece blank.

  The children blinked, all but Ida, who was watching intently.

  The thief studied the wall again, then selected another puzzle piece. He moved that one lower down, below where the now-blank first piece had been.

  The second picture disappeared.

  “Oh man,” Char whispered to Ven and Clemency. “That’s murder—you have to remember what each piece looked like? Who could do a puzzle like that?”

  “I bet Ida can,” Clemency said quietly in return. “But I sure wouldn’t want to try.”

  The thief moved a third, then a fourth piece into place.

  In a flash, the eyes of the dragon shifted. Its gaze was now locked on the white-haired man.

  Ida looked over her shoulder at the other children. “You guys may wanna step back,” she said.

  The thin man looked up. He glanced at Ida, then up at the dragon above him. Beads of sweat popped out on his pale, oversized forehead.

  “I hear it’s painful,” Ida added helpfully. “Gettin’ crisped.”

  The expression on the thief’s face hardened. He returned to the puzzle, slowly sliding the remaining pieces into place, as steam began to leak from the dragon’s nostrils. Char and Ven exchanged a glance, and then slowly inched back and away from where the man was standing.

  Without turning around, the thief whipped a dagger from his sleeve and heaved it at the floor half a step away from Char’s toes. The knife landed, point stuck into the cracks of the stones, with a metallic thunk.

  The boys froze in place.

  The man returned to his work. Finally, when the last piece of the puzzle was in place, a puff of smoke, but no fire, emerged from the dragon’s nose. The wall within the keyhole doorway separated into many jagged pieces and slid out of the way, leaving an entrance that led down another long hallway, this one so bright that their eyes stung.

  The thief let out the breath he had been holding, then turned and smiled at them.

  “This way,” he said, gesturing through the doorway.

  Ida stepped over the dragon’s tail and into the long corridor beyond, followed by the others. When it ended, the thief opened a door and led them into a bright room with a glass ceiling. The room was filled with even more plants than grew in the gardens out front, most of them fragrant and bursting with flowers.

  “Try not to breathe too much in here,” Ida said quietly.

  Clemency nodded as she looked around. “Datura, belladonna, white cedar, oleander. These are all very poisonous. The Spice Folk at the inn won’t even speak to the fairies who take care of these plants—they consider them evil.”

  “Imagine that,” said Char. “Evil plants in this place. Shockin’.”

  At the other end of the garden was a door that opened into a room where a fire was burning on a large hearth. Huge mirrors hung on every wall, reflecting the light of the fire, making the room full of shadows. They followed Ida inside.

  That room was also full of glorious plants, tall, twisting vines with trumpet-shaped flowers dangling from them. Mist hung in the air, which was heavy and hard to breathe. On the floor, lazing in the shadows, were many black cats. They watched the children as they entered the room with yellow eyes that glowed eerily in the dark.

  The door to the large room closed quietly behind them.

  “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged back into the Market.”

  The voice was low and musical, almost sweet to Ven’s ear. H
e followed the sound of it to a corner of the room partially hidden in shadow and flowers.

  A beautiful woman sat on a gigantic chair of heavily carved dark wood. She had pale skin, long blond hair looped in what looked like nooses, and eyes so black and deep that Ven felt like he was drowning in them when they came to rest on him. A thin silver knife was in her hands, which she was using to clean beneath long neatly manicured red nails, nothing like the black talons on the scale in Madame Sharra’s deck. In fact, if she had not been stretched across a throne in this room of shadows, Ven would have believed she was nothing more than a pretty sailor’s wife, a teacher, or any other normal person.

  The beautiful woman sat up straighter in her chair.

  “It’s been quite a while, now, hasn’t it, Ida? Come give Mummy a kiss.”

  “Kiss mine,” Ida retorted.

  The black eyes narrowed into slits, though the woman’s smile remained bright.

  “Now, now, there’s no need to be unpleasant, especially in front of your friends. Mummy is very displeased with you, dear.”

  “I’m cryin’ about that,” said Ida.

  The woman exhaled. “Impudent as always. I’m glad to see nothing’s changed.” She turned to the other children. “Since my daughter has not seen fit to introduce me, allow me to do so. I am Felonia. You may refer to me as Your Majesty. Your names don’t matter—you won’t be here very long. I suppose Ida has told you all about me.”

  “Actually, no,” said Char. “Ida doesn’t say much about anythin’.”

  The Queen of Thieves nodded. “Good. I guess some of her training stuck, then.”

  She turned back to Ida. “So to what do I owe the exceeding displeasure of your company, Ida? Why did you come back? I assume it wasn’t because I ordered you to.”

  “Heck no,” Ida said bluntly. “Someone stole my Gwadd and I want it back.”

  The Queen leaned back in her throne.

  “Really,” she said, her voice thick with interest. “A Gwadd? You don’t say. Those bring a high price. I’m surprised no one told me that one was available. Well, I suppose I can arrange to find out who has it, and have it brought here. As a wedding present, perhaps.”

  The only sound in the room was the crackle of the flames on the hearth.

  “Er—wedding present?” Ven asked finally, unable to resist.

  The Thief Queen turned, as if surprised to hear him speak.

  “Well, yes,” she said. “You didn’t know that Ida is engaged?”

  “I hope you’re joking,” Clemency said.

  “Not at all. I believe that’s why she ran away this last time—it’s not unusual for brides to get cold feet. She is betrothed to a very lovely man, a very important and powerful man, no more than sixty years old, I’m sure. He took a fancy to her years ago, and has wanted to marry her ever since.”

  “Her?” Char demanded in disbelief.

  Felonia shrugged. “So he has questionable taste,” she said offhandedly. “I learned a long time ago that people desire strange things for strange reasons. I don’t question those desires; I just use them to my advantage. This gentleman wants her. His cooperation will expand my business a hundred times over. A small price to pay to keep such an important contact happy.” Her eyes looked over Ida from head to toe. “Fortunately, it will take six weeks to get word to him, and for him to travel back here for the wedding. We will have to bathe you every day until then just to get the top layers of dirt off.”

  “Ida bathes once a week at least,” Clemency said indignantly. “I’m her steward, and I make certain of it.” She glanced over at Ida. “At least when she’s out of jail.”

  The Queen of Thieves nodded. “Her husband-to-be is a very particular gentleman, and an important ally,” she said, running the blade of her knife under the edges of her long fingernails. “He is very picky about cleanliness. I may have to have her boiled to make her presentable. But her hygiene, or lack of it, is no longer your affair, steward.”

  “Surely Ida is too young to get married,” Ven protested.

  Felonia rolled her eyes. “Oh, come now, that’s nonsense,” she said in Ida’s general direction. “You’re how old now? Thirteen? Or at least twelve, aren’t you?”

  Ida shrugged. “I dunno. You were there when I was born, supposedly, and I wasn’t payin’ attention at the time. If you don’t remember, how am I supposed to?”

  The thin man with the thin hair coughed politely from the corner of the room.

  “Ida is eleven, mistress.”

  Felonia waved her hand dismissively. “More than old enough.”

  “That’s sick!” Char shouted before Ven could stop him. “A snake’s a better mother than you.”

  The Queen of Thieves sat up straight, as if she had been slapped across the face. Her black eyes opened wide in shock, then narrowed as they came to rest on the trembling cook’s mate.

  “What did you say?” she asked softly. Her voice was as silky as the black satin Clemency had admired in the Market, but with a knife’s sharpness hidden in it.

  Even Ida, who had been maintaining an expression of insolence since entering Felonia’s chambers, looked alarmed for a moment. Then her face settled back into its customary smirk.

  “Never mind him,” she said to her mother. “I want the Gwadd, or I’m not gettin’ married. And that’s final. Make the arrangements. I want my wedding gown to be pink. With purple lace. An’ a big white bow on the butt—I’ve always wanted one of those.”

  The Thief Queen stared at Char for a moment longer, then returned her gaze to Ida.

  “You’re planning to run off again, aren’t you?” Her voice was deadly.

  “Neh,” said Ida.

  “Well, while I admire your ability to lie without hesitation, even to me, I will make certain that you are unable to get outside the gates again.” Felonia turned to the thin thief. “Climb the tower and set the Screaming Ravens free.”

  The man inhaled deeply, then bowed and hurried from the room.

  The Queen of Thieves smiled at the children.

  “The release of those birds is a signal to the constable of Kingston and all of his guards that a particularly dangerous and violent criminal is loose in the Gated City, attempting to escape. Such a warning is an extreme measure, and it terrifies the citizens of Kingston. They will shut down every possible exit, and man the top of the wall with archers, shooting anyone who attempts to leave. It frightens those who live in the Market as well; all the secret exits will be closed, too. Let’s all just wait here until that alarm has been sounded, shall we?”

  Ven, Char, and Clem stared at each other nervously. Only Ida met Felonia’s eye defiantly, even as the hideous screeching began in the tower above them, then spread quickly across the city.

  * * *

  The sound was the highest pitched, most horrible noise I had ever heard, like the dragging of fingernails across a chalkboard slate inside my ears. It vibrated through my skull, and the skulls of Char and Clem. I could tell because their faces twisted into the same masks of pain I felt mine contort into.

  The cry of the Screaming Ravens filled the streets, echoing against the cobblestones and alleyways, until it was one great wail of alarm, vibrating through the ground and the air. Even knowing it was coming, the noise scared me absolutely witless.

  * * *

  In the distance they heard Kingston’s guardian bells ringing wildly in answer.

  All across the Gated City, doors began slamming amid shouts of alarm and the sound of running feet as the people of the Market of Thieves scurried into whatever shelter they could find.

  The Thief Queen listened until the shrieking sound had died away.

  “All right, then, Ida, go and have your bath. I will send for your groom, as well as for the Gwadd. And if you have any notion of escaping the city, forget it. You’ve just cost this Market a great deal of business and worry. They will not appreciate it, believe me. No one is going to help you.” She eyed Ven, Char, and Clem. “If you are he
r friends, you will help convince her of this. And if you have any of your own thoughts of escaping, please reconsider, for Ida’s sake. It is always unfortunate when one’s wedding guests die before the ceremony. It means fewer gifts.”

  She signaled for the door to be opened. Two guards stood there, waiting, armed to the teeth. One was muscle-bound and as wide as he was tall.

  The other had brown hair—and a hooked nose.

  Felonia signaled impatiently. The guards bowed, then opened the door wider.

  The children followed the guards out of her chamber.

  Once in the hallway, the thief with the hooked nose took Ida by the arm. He nodded to the other guard, pointing in the other direction.

  “I can’t believe you agreed to this, Ida,” Clem said as the second guard motioned for her and the boys to follow him. Ida just shrugged and walked away with the hook-nosed thief.

  “You understand why she did, don’t you?” Ven asked when she was out of sight.

  “She’s tryin’ to save Saeli,” said Char glumly.

  “Yes,” Ven said as they fell in line behind the second guard. “And you—if she hadn’t spoken when she did, you would have been nothing more than a stain on the floor and a memory at this moment. Try to avoid insulting the Queen of Thieves again, Char, if you please—at least while I’m standing next to you. Just in case she misses with her knife.”

  “She never misses,” said Clemency. “I’m sure of it.”

  The guard jangled his keys in their direction.

  “Just out of curiosity, Ven,” said Clemency, “Does everyone who spends time with you end up under lock and key?”

  “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” Ven replied. “Sorry about that.”

  The guard gestured impatiently, and led them off down a dark passageway into the belly of the guildhall.

  16

  Under Lock and Key—Again

  * * *

  I have passed some awful nights in my life.