The Shadow Thieves

by Alexandra Ott

  He sighs. “Listen—”

  “No, you listen. You’re talking about joining a secret group of criminals that’s even more dangerous than the secret group of criminals you’re already in, one that has orchestrated a public murder and God knows what else, in order to spy on them and try to get information about them to the king of the Thieves Guild, who is their sworn enemy, and you think you’re going to do all of this without getting caught by anyone. Do you even hear yourself?”

  “It’s the only way,” he says. “The king needs someone on the inside that he can trust. He chose me.”

  I draw my knees up to my chest. “Yeah, about that. Doesn’t it seem a little strange to you? I mean, no offense or anything, but you’re not exactly one of the Guild’s most experienced members. If this is so important and the Shadows are so dangerous, why would the king entrust a thirteen-year-old who only just passed his trial three months ago?”

  “That’s exactly why he chose me,” Beck insists. “If the king chose one of his most experienced members, the Shadows would know instantly that they were a spy. I’m already being recruited by the Shadows. They came to me first, not the other way around. They have no reason to suspect me. But the king knows how loyal I am to him, and I proved it when I went to him in the first place. He trusts me, but the Shadows don’t know that.”

  He makes a reasonable point, but something about the whole thing still seems suspicious. Unless . . .

  Unless the king realizes how incredibly risky this assignment is, and he chose Beck for it because he didn’t want to send someone more valuable. Didn’t want his best assets to end up dead.

  “So,” Beck continues, “after planning this with the king, I went to the Shadows and told them I’d changed my mind and I wanted to join. They told me there will be a meeting here in Ruhia for new recruits, sometime soon. I’m supposed to wait for further instructions. The problem is, if the Shadows’ headquarters is here in Ruhia—and the king and I both suspect it is—then I need to stay here in the city, where I can be closer to them. The guildhall was too risky anyway. I don’t want the Shadows to figure out what I’m doing, obviously, but I also don’t want loyal Guild members to think I’m really a Shadow.”

  “Which is why you’re hiding out in an abandoned chapel that hopefully no one else knows about.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But what’s the long-term plan here? Hide out forever?”

  “No. This whole Shadow thing is going to end, one way or another. I just have to lay low for a while, just until I have enough info for the king to take them down.”

  “And if they win? If they take control of the Guild and find out you betrayed them, you can never go back.”

  “I know.” He looks down at the dimming fire in the lantern. “If that happens, I’ll just figure something out.”

  My eyes widen. This is completely unlike him. Beck always has a plan, always strategizes until he comes up with something. His plans are usually ridiculous, but he always has them. If the Shadows win . . . either they’ll kill him or they’ll force him to run from the only place he’s ever called home.

  “Now,” Beck says, “about your brother.”

  “Finally you get to the point.”

  “Mead told me that the Shadows have other targets besides the king. Other people that they want to go after. He showed me a list of names. Kerick was first, of course. But the second name on the list is Ronan A. Rosco.”

  All the air whooshes out of my lungs like I’ve been punched in the chest. “That’s not possible.”

  “I know what I saw. I recognized his name right away, since I’d looked up your file before.”

  “Wait. You found my file before seeing his name on the list? Then why were you looking at my file to begin with?”

  Beck drops his gaze. “I . . . I just wanted to make sure that your curse got cured and you were okay.”

  “You went to all that effort to find my file just to check up on me?”

  Beck looks very intently at the floor, and I get a funny feeling in my chest. The topic of Ronan’s impending doom suddenly seems like a safer conversation than this, so I steer us back to it. “You’re sure it was his name?”

  Beck nods.

  It has to be some kind of mistake. Or maybe it’s a different person. But “Rosco” isn’t as common a name here in Ruhia as it is in Azeland, and “Ronan” is even more unusual. And that middle initial, the one I asked him about . . . There’s no way that’s a coincidence.

  “But Ronan’s not involved in the Guild or thieving or anything,” I say. “He’s just a lawyer’s apprentice. Why would the Shadows be after him?”

  “I don’t know. And I don’t know who put his name on that list. But clearly the Shadows are serious about going after their targets. Durban won’t be the last, if they have their way. That’s why I came to warn you.”

  My head is spinning. “I have to tell him he’s in danger. I have to . . .” No. I can’t do that. Because if I tell Ronan all of this, he’ll tell Mari. And both of them will want to know where I got this information. I don’t want to give Beck away. Mari and her protector friends would go after him just as soon as they’d go after the Shadows. “I can’t tell him.”

  “You won’t have to. If I can infiltrate the Shadows, I can stop them before they go after any more of their targets. I just need your help.”

  “I . . . I don’t know if I can. I’m not a Guild member. And I don’t steal anymore.”

  “I know. I didn’t want to drag you into this mess. But I don’t know where else to go. I have no way of knowing who’s a Shadow and who isn’t, so I don’t know who to trust. You’re the only person I know outside of the Guild. The only one who can help me.”

  This admission makes my heart seize up for a second. Sometimes he seems so normal, it’s easy to forget that he’s never had a life outside of the Guild, never known anything or anyone else.

  But it defines him. I knew it when I watched him disappear out that window, and I can never forget it again.

  I don’t know what to say. I still don’t know exactly where we stand after everything that’s happened, but if I’m being honest, I just want us to be like we were before.

  It’s been a long time since I had a real friend.

  “How can I help?” I ask finally.

  Beck leans back a little, looking relieved. “I haven’t exactly worked out all the details yet. But do you think you could meet me here again?”

  “Possibly,” I say. “My brother is usually at work all day. But we need a way to communicate. I won’t know if you need anything, or if something happens and you need to move locations . . .”

  “Good point. Let’s see . . .” He pauses for a moment, tapping his fingers against his knee. Green lantern light plays across his face.

  “Okay, how about this?” he says finally. “That park a block from here. Near the gate, there’s a tree with a knothole in its trunk. We can stash notes there.”

  “Yeah, that works.”

  “And maybe we should have some kind of system for when you come up here. Like, knock three times so I know it’s you.”

  “You’re going to know it’s me anyway,” I say. “Nobody else is going to knock first.”

  “Good point.”

  This is absurd. There are so many ways this could go wrong. What if Ronan or Mari find out I’m helping him? What if the Shadows find him—and, by extension, me and Ronan? I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t even be thinking about doing this. Getting involved with the Guild again—getting involved with Beck again—is only going to get me into trouble.

  But it’s Beck. Who saved my life when he didn’t have to, more than once. And if he’s right about Ronan being in trouble, then I have to do something. At the very least, I have to find out why my brother’s name is on that list, and if it really means what Beck thinks it means.

  “Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it. How about I meet you here tomorrow after my brother goes to work?” I can mee
t Ronan at the law office afterward like normal. He’ll never have to know anything’s changed.

  “Okay,” Beck says.

  It feels like hours have passed since we sat down. When I finally stand, my legs are stiff. “Well, I guess I’d better get back before he notices I’m gone.”

  We stand awkwardly, staring at each other. The lantern’s fire is dying, providing only a few sputtering flames.

  “So. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.

  “See you tomorrow.” A smile twitches the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Allicat.”

  I’m suddenly finding it difficult to swallow. “Yeah, whatever.”

  I turn around and take a few steps away from him. And stop. There’s one more thing I need to say.

  I turn around again. “Hey, Beck?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. For sending Mead. For the money, I mean. You didn’t have to . . .”

  The lantern goes dark, and I can’t see his face anymore. “Yeah,” he says, “I kind of did.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for taking the fall for me. I saw the transcripts of your interview with the judge. I know you didn’t rat me out and kept the Guild a secret.”

  “Yeah, well, I kind of had to, didn’t I?”

  I still can’t see his face, but I imagine he’s smiling.

  “I’m glad we got that off our chests,” I say. “Now let’s never talk about this ever again.”

  “Whatever you say, Allicat.”

  Chapter Six

  After walking back from the chapel, I tiptoe blindly back into the apartment building, trying not to wake anyone up. With my luck, they’ll think I’m a burglar and call Mari to arrest me.

  There are so many ways that all of this could go wrong that I’m beginning to lose track of them. But what else can I do? It’s not like I can tell Ronan about Beck. Even if we could convince Ronan not to turn Beck in, he’d probably tell Mari, and then she’d do it. I could try to make something up, tell him a friend needs help . . . but he’d be too suspicious. He knows I don’t have any friends in this city who aren’t thieves.

  I stumble across the fourth-floor landing in the dark and freeze, listening to the thud echo off the walls. The noise fades until I don’t hear anything except for my own heartbeat. I creep over to the stairwell door and slip through it.

  Ronan and Mari are standing in the hallway. Both of their apartment doors are open, lights streaming into the hall.

  Oops.

  They look stunned to see me. Mari is clearly frozen in the middle of saying something, her mouth hanging slightly open. They stare at me without speaking.

  “Er, hi?” I say.

  “Alli.” The relief in Ronan’s voice surprises me. “Where have you been?”

  “I, um, went for a walk. I needed to clear my head.”

  “You went alone?” Mari says. “At night?” She sounds concerned, but she might be faking it. It’s her job to sound concerned.

  “I didn’t go far,” I say. Not technically a lie. “Just wandered around a bit.”

  “You just disappeared,” Ronan says. “I thought . . .”

  It takes me a second, but then I get it. He thought I’d run away.

  Given my track record, I guess that’s only fair. But then he went running to Mari the protector to . . . what? Report me missing? Send every protector in the city after me? So they could send me to another orphanage, another prison?

  Mari and Ronan exchange glances. They seem to be arguing about something. Again. Whatever it is, Ronan wins this time. Mari presses her lips together, changing her mind about whatever she was going to say. “Well, if you’re all right,” she says, “I’ll head back to bed, then.”

  “Sorry,” I say unconvincingly.

  Mari says good night and disappears into her apartment, and Ronan gestures to ours, where the front door hangs open. “I don’t suppose you have my key?” he says.

  “Oh, right. I didn’t want to get locked out,” I say. Also not a lie.

  We head inside, and I return the key to him. He makes a production of latching the front door behind us, like he’s trying to decide what to say. Or trying to draw this moment out because he doesn’t want to say it.

  “Well,” I say, faking a loud yawn, “I’ll be going to bed.”

  “Wait.” He turns around, slipping the key into his pocket. “We need to talk.”

  “Sorry I disappeared on you. Really. Didn’t mean to. Won’t do it again.” I take a giant step backward in the direction of my bedroom. “Good talk.”

  “Alli.” He has a really remarkable way of putting a lot of emotion into my name. A minute ago, he said it in an “oh thank God” kind of way. Now it’s more like a “you’re in so much trouble, young lady” way. He’s going to make a great lawyer, with that kind of skill.

  He sits down in his armchair, settling in for the long haul. I don’t think I’m getting out of this one.

  Shoulders slumping, I shuffle to the sofa and take a seat, close enough to the edge that I can bolt if necessary.

  Ronan rubs one hand over his eyes. He looks tired. “I’m not mad at you,” he says.

  “Oh.” So much has happened since our fight, I almost forgot that I’m in trouble.

  “I’m just trying to understand,” he says. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I know I’m not doing enough to make it easier for you. The truth is . . . the truth is, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be an older brother, and I definitely don’t know how to be a parent. I’m still figuring it all out.”

  For a moment, I’m stunned into silence. He’s figuring it out? He doesn’t know how to do this? I thought it was just me. It is just me.

  It takes me another minute to work up the nerve to admit it out loud. “You’re not the problem,” I say quietly. “I am.”

  His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, you aren’t. I meant what I said before. You might have a talent for getting into trouble”—he smiles—“but you’re a good kid. I know.”

  “How?” Earlier tonight I shouted it at him. Now the question is a whisper.

  “I can tell that you’re trying.”

  “But not succeeding,” I say.

  “You might be a little more successful if you didn’t go looking for trouble.”

  An image of Beck in the chapel flashes in my head. “I think trouble finds me.”

  This time his smile is sad. “You want to tell me why you’re so opposed to tutoring?”

  I pause. “I just know that it won’t go very well.”

  “Why not?”

  The question surprises me. Adults usually just object instead of asking. “I’m not exactly a great student. Never have been. And I didn’t . . . I just didn’t want things to go badly.”

  “I see,” Ronan says slowly. “And that’s it?” He’s turned the full force of his lawyerly skepticism on me.

  “Am I on trial here?”

  “No.” He waits.

  “I just didn’t want you to be disappointed in me, is all.”

  “Oh, Alli. I’m not going to be disappointed.”

  “You mean you aren’t already?”

  He looks taken aback for a second. I can practically see him riffling through my file in his brain, putting it together. “You think I’m disappointed in you because of what happened at the Athertons’?”

  No wonder Avin-what’s-his-name wanted Ronan for an apprentice. He’s scary good at this. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

  “You made some mistakes. But you also saved a girl’s life that night.”

  I shrug uncomfortably. “ ‘Saved’ is putting it generously.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Only if ‘saved’ means ‘almost accidentally got her killed out of sheer stupidity but then miraculously didn’t,’ then yeah.”

  “That’s not how I heard it.”

  “Well, you heard wrong. And I don’t want to talk about it again.”

/>   “Okay.” He senses the edge creeping into my voice and literally backs off, leaning farther into his chair. “But you know we’re going to have to talk about preparing you for an apprenticeship eventually.”

  “Believe it or not, the thought had crossed my mind.” Because he mentions it constantly. For someone who acts so forgiving, he sure is eager to get rid of me.

  “Okay,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm. “I’ll spare you the lecture. We’ll revisit the tutoring issue another time. But, Alli?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t want you wandering around alone at night. And when you do need to go for a walk”—the way he says it makes it clear he knows perfectly well that’s not what I was doing—“I need you to at least let me know, okay?”

  “Gotcha.”

  “All right. Lecture over.”

  I spring to my feet. “I’m going to bed then. Night.”

  “Good night.”

  I race to my room. Once the door is closed, I lean against it and exhale slowly. I have to admit, that went better than I expected. I can’t remember the last time an adult was so . . . understanding. So willing to listen, instead of lecture.

  So willing to see the best in me.

  Despite his faults—his protector girlfriend being number one—Ronan is probably the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’d be stupid to mess this up, to throw away this chance. He’s the only family I have, the one person who has any interest whatsoever in my life. The only person whose life I have any interest in. So I need to make this work for as long as I possibly can, to give us a shot at having something resembling a real sibling relationship.

  This is my one chance at family, and I’m not going to let anything get in the way of it.

  Especially not the Shadow Guild. I’ll help Beck stop them, if that’s what it takes.

  But I don’t know how to do both—how to be the good kid Ronan sees and the runaway whose help Beck needs. How to truly be reformed while also keeping secrets, while being a liar.

  How to be both Ronan’s sister and a thief.

  • • •

  As soon as Ronan leaves for work the next day, I rush through breakfast, preparing to meet Beck at the chapel again. I stuff some extra bread and a canteen of water into my bag, because I’m not sure if Beck actually has anything to eat. A guilty little knot forms in my stomach. Is it stealing from Ronan to give his food to Beck? Ronan wouldn’t care if I were the one eating it, so does it matter? I’m not sure, so I decide to stop thinking about it.