"Hear that? That's the sound of rusted hinges. When you're trying to slip into a third-story window without being noticed, the last thing you want is a creaking hinge."
He produced a flask of oil from within his clothing.
"When you're sneaking in, always be sure to have a bit of oil with you." He poured a bit on his palm and tasted it. "Olive oil works like a charm."
"But what if I can't see the hinges when I'm opening the door?" Ilanna pulled the door shut. "See, the hinges are set on the inside, where I can't get at them."
"Easy. Just open the door a crack, like so. Just wide enough that you can spread a bit of oil on the hinges before opening the door—or window." He poured a few drops of oil on the hinges, waited a few seconds, and pushed. The door swung open with barely a sound. "And just like that, you're in!"
He pushed past Ilanna and entered the darkened room. A moment later, light flared from a pair of small globes in his hand—one red, the other blue.
Ilanna's eyes widened. "What are those?"
"A quickfire lamp. Here." He passed her the red globe, and the light faded away. When he placed the blue globe in her hand, the light returned. "Red is the sparker and blue is the catalyst. Always carry them in your pouch, but keep them separated. They'll only give you a few minutes of light, so save them until you need them."
He disappeared into the darkness for a moment. He returned holding a small lantern. "This is a beamer, to use when you don't have a fire-striker." When Denber pushed a lever set into the side, light flooded the room.
Ilanna's eyes widened. "How does it work?"
He shrugged. "I don't really know. Alchemical nonsense is more the area of House Scorpion."
The room held a table and two chairs in the center of the room, and a bed at the far end. A set of shelves ran along one wall, with a simple chest of drawers along the other.
"What is this room?"
Denber grinned. "It's the Treasure Room."
"Treasure Room? Doesn't look like much."
"That's the point." Ilanna raised an eyebrow, puzzled, and Denber continued. "If you had something very valuable, what would you do with it? Would you leave it out in the open?"
"Of course not! I'd hide it out of…Ah! I see."
"There are six treasures hidden in here. It's your job to find them."
Ilanna studied the room. The table stood empty. A handful of threadbare books rested on the shelf. Where would I hide something valuable? Perhaps beneath the mattress or in the chest of drawers.
Denber motioned her forward. "Well? What are you waiting for?"
Ilanna darted toward the bed and hurled the straw tick mattress aside. To her dismay, the bed frame held no treasures. She pulled out every drawer in the chest, but they contained only cobwebs and dust. Disappointed, she turned to Denber.
He stood with his arms folded across his chest. "What? Did you really think it would be that easy?" He shook his head. "Remember, people are trying to protect their valuables, so they'll hide them in places you'd never think to look."
"Are you going to show me?"
"No. You need to figure it out for yourself. But first, clean up your mess."
As Ilanna closed the open drawers, the top one caught her attention. The bottom took up more space than it should have. Nothing felt strange along the underside, but when she ran her fingers along the inner edges, she felt a slight depression.
Aha! She pressed, and a panel large enough to hold a purse opened in the rear of the drawer.
"Look!" She held up the purse, triumphant. "I found it!"
"Good." Denber took the purse from her. "One down, more to go."
Excited at the challenge, Ilanna hurried to replace the mattress on the bed. It felt heavier than it should. She flipped it over. A small seam ran along the underside. She reached her hand into the seam and dug through the woolen filling. Her fingers closed around something round and hard.
She held the purse high. "That's two!"
Denber nodded. "Keep it up, Ilanna. You're doing better than I expected."
Ilanna glowed under Denber's praise. Her excitement dimmed as the minutes ticked by and she failed to find more hidden treasures.
"Denber!" Werrin's voice echoed in the tiny room. "Conn says you've got to take Ilanna running before meal time. After that, he has a few errands he needs you to run."
Denber's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Be right there! Come on, Ilanna. We've got to go."
"Denber, wait. I've only found these two. I don’t want to leave just yet."
"You'll be back tomorrow. And every day, until you find every last one of the hidden treasures."
"Good." She paused at the door and turned to give the room one last examination, memorizing every detail.
Denber tugged on her arm. "Come on, Ilanna. We've got to run before we can eat. Well, not so much we as you."
"What do you mean?"
"Before you're allowed to step foot up there,"—he pointed to the Perch—"house rules dictate that you have to run around the Aerie a dozen times without rest."
Ilanna's eyes went wide and she studied the massive room. "But that's im—"
"Don't you dare say 'impossible'! Sure, it looks tough, but you'll work up to it. For now, let's start you out easy. Let's say six laps?"
Ilanna gaped. She half-expected him to smile and laugh, but his expression remained serious.
"You think I'm joking? Let's go, apprentice. Move it!"
Ilanna stumbled forward, picking up speed until she ran at a slow jog.
Denber ran at her heels like a snapping sheepdog. "Faster, apprentice. If you want to have any hope of eating today, I'd better see those heels leaving the floor!"
Within minutes, Ilanna gasped for breath. By the time she completed a full lap of the Aerie, her legs burned and her heart felt ready to pound free of her chest. But Denber didn't let her slow.
"Keep it up, apprentice! Or, by the Watcher, you'll spend all day tomorrow scrubbing privies at every House in the Night Guild."
Ilanna wanted to scream at him, but she couldn't spare the breath. A sharp pain formed in her side, sending waves of agony through her torso with each step.
Why is he doing this? What did I do to make him so angry?
Fire coursed through every muscle in her legs. And still Denber forced her to run until she could run no longer. She lurched toward the privy door and emptied her stomach into the dark, dark hole in the ground. The smell and filth only made it worse. Her gut heaved until nothing but clear fluid came up. Tears slipped down her cheeks and acid burned her throat.
"Take it easy, Ilanna." Denber spoke in a soft voice, his hand on her shoulder. "You did good. Better than I expected."
What? From angry to kind in a heartbeat? I don't understand him at all!
"Get cleaned up, change your clothes, and get some lunch. You'll need it after that run." With that, he strode from the room, leaving her alone with her shame, her embarrassment, and her anger.
Her stomach stopped heaving. It had no more to disgorge. I'm not weak! She repeated the words over and over, balling her hands into fists. She slumped against a wall, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.
This would be the last time she would cry—in front of Denber, in front of anyone. But Denber, most of all. He'd gone from friend to taskmaster in a heartbeat. She'd thought he would help her, but she knew better now.
I'll do whatever I have to to survive in House Hawk, even if I have to do it alone.
Chapter Fifteen
"Damn it!" Ilanna threw the mallet to the floor and sucked on her bloodied finger. "That's the third time today."
"Happens to us all, Ilanna." Prynn retrieved the tool and held it out to her. "I did it more times than I could count my first week here. You'll learn—just takes practice."
She accepted the rubber-headed mallet and returned to the lock. Prynn had shown her how to tap and twist the key at the same time, but she couldn't get it right. Biting back a growl of frustration
, she tapped the bump key in the lock. Blasted thing is too difficult!
"Give it a rest. Blood is wicked hard to get out of leather, and those gloves are new. And I hear the apprentice in charge of the washing has her hands full with training."
Ilanna couldn't summon a grin to match Prynn's. She ground her teeth, frustrated. Over the last six days, her training had focused on locks: learning the types, understanding how to bump, pick, and break them, and how to spot traps. It hadn't gone well.
"If you're not careful," Prynn had told her, "you'll find yourself short a few fingers. The wealthiest, the ones with the most to lose, aren't above setting deadly traps on their locks. Nasty things. Just ask Conn."
The older Hawk had shown her a scar running across the fingers of his left hand. "Merchant's strongroom. Sliced right to the bone."
Her injured hand ached from the delicate work, but she never said a word. She wouldn't let Denber or Conn know how much it hurt. If they knew, they'd never let her up on the Perch.
Every time she watched Werrin, Willem, Bert, and Prynn on the ropes, ladders, and beams high above the Aerie floor, she ached to spread her wings and join them. But until she completed her training and her finger healed, the older boys had grounded her.
So she studied hard. The Hawks took turns training her, though she spent most of her time with the younger boys. She liked Willem and Werrin best, when they ceased their bickering long enough to pay attention. Bert and Prynn were more reserved, but nice enough.
When not learning to pick locks, she spent time in the Treasure Room. It took two days to find the purse hidden in the table leg. The following day, she found the one behind the chest and the one stuffed into a threadbare book. One more and she would be free.
Prynn tapped the bump key with an expert hand and the lock clicked. "See, that's how it's done." She glared, and he met her anger with a grin. "Come on, Ilanna. There is hidden treasure calling your name."
She groaned. "Please, not that stuffy, dusty room again."
"You're doing great, you know. You found five of the purses—even the one in the table leg. That one took me a lot longer to find."
"Yes, but I can't find the last one." She threw up her hands. "I've combed every corner of that room, and nothing!"
Prynn nodded. "And that's exactly why you're going back in. You have to find it. Or do you want to spend the rest of your days as a Hawk trapped there?"
"Fine." Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let's go."
Ilanna inserted her skeleton key into the Treasure Room lock. A moment later, the mechanism clicked and the door swung open.
Prynn raised an eyebrow. "Not so hard, once you get used to it."
"After six days, I'd better be good at it. Denber said this is the easiest type of lock to pick."
He shrugged. "Whatever. Just remember: it'll come with practice."
Ilanna stuffed the small mallet and bump key in her lock-picking set, rolled it up, and slipped it into her coat. Its weight—and the dagger on her belt—had grown familiar, comforting. She produced the quickfire lamp and clinked the two globes together.
Prynn patted her shoulder. "You can do it, Ilanna. Just think about where people would hide stuff. Think like a clever thief."
She rolled her eyes. "Such valuable advice! If only someone had said something on my first day." She followed the faint light of the globes to the beamer.
He laughed and strode from the room. "Good luck!"
Ilanna studied the sparse Treasure Room. She'd searched it every day for nearly a week. Where haven't I looked?
After finding the purse hidden in the table leg, she'd checked the other three and the chairs. Nothing. The chest, shelf, and bed had yielded their treasures.
So what next? She paced the room, counting each step. Fifteen paces deep, ten wide. Same as yesterday and the day before.
Again she paced the room, her mind racing. She tried to think like a thief, as Prynn said. But she'd checked every place in the room where something could hide. Unless the walls held a secret, she wouldn't…
The walls! She ran her hands along them, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. Not a loose brick, not a stone out of place. Over and over, she circled the room. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the sensations in her fingertips.
A faint sound came from somewhere in the room. What is that? It came again—a gentle creaking, almost impossible to hear. She walked along the wall, trying to locate the sound again. There!
She stamped her foot. The creaking sounded louder. Dropping to her knees, she felt around the spot. Instead of hard-packed earth, her scrabbling fingers found only loose dirt, tamped down to look like the rest of the room. She dug, wincing when her fingernails scratched wood. A moment later, she stared at a board.
A cry of triumph burst from her lips. "I found it!" She held the purse high, like a trophy.
A shadow filled the room. Denber stood at the doorway, grinning. "Good for you, Ilanna."
"I found them all. Does that mean I can fly now?" Her skin tingled with a thrill of anticipation.
He raised an eyebrow. "You found all of them? Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure, Denber." She counted on her fingers. "One in the drawers, one in the table, one in the book, one in the mattress, one behind the chest, and now one in the floor. That makes six."
"Yes, it does."
"So that means I found them all, right?"
Denber shook his head.
"But you said six!"
"Think about it, Ilanna. You're training to be a thief. You're meant to find things people are trying to hide from you. Do you think it will ever be that easy?"
Ilanna's eyes widened. "B-but…"
"You need to start thinking for yourself, Ilanna. If you're going to be a Hawk, you need to learn to be clever. If you want simple, straightforward tasks, go join the Foxes or the Grubbers. They have things easy. They just do what they're told. But it takes more than just skill and coordination to be a Hawk. You have to be smarter than everyone else."
Ilanna's cheeks burned. She clenched her fists to hold back angry tears.
Denber held up a lecturing finger. "No one is going to make your life as a Hawk easier. No one. Not me, not Conn, not the twins, not anyone. We're here to train you, to help you become the best Hawk you can be. We're not going to hold your hand through these lessons. You're going to have to figure them out all on your own."
"Fine, I will! Leave me alone."
"Ilanna—"
She thrust a finger at the door. "Go, Denber. I'm not going to leave this room until I've found that last purse."
Denber started forward. "But—"
She stamped her foot. "Go!"
Denber stared, mouth agape. Then he shrugged. "So be it. If that's what you want. Just remember, the beamer only has a few hours of light. If you need anything, you know where to find me." He stalked from the room, and the door swung shut behind him.
Ilanna turned her back on the door, wincing at the click of the latch. For a moment, she was that terrified little girl sold to the Night Guild, alone in the dark. She'd thought that long behind her, but the fear threatened to swallow her whole.
No! That was a lifetime ago. She wasn't the girl huddling in the bunk room, cowering in fear of Master Velvet. She was apprenticed to House Hawk. She stood in the Treasure Room. Alone, perhaps, but so what? No one would help her—she needed no one. She had to solve the problem on her own. I will solve it!
She paced the room again, twice, thrice, a dozen times. She ran her fingers along the walls, checked every nook and cranny in the furniture, even dug through the straw tick mattress. With every passing minute, her frustration and anger grew.
Time passed at a crawl. She searched and searched and found nothing, but refused to give in. I won't fail. Not now. She would prove the others wrong.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Ilanna threw herself on the bed in frustration. Her finger throbbed, her head ached, and she burned with shame.
> The light wavered. I'm running out of time! Her eyes roamed over the room, taking in every detail. Nothing on the walls, floors, or furniture looked out of place.
The beamer flickered and gave out, plunging the room into darkness. Tears welled in her eyes, but she'd promised never to cry again. She wouldn't be weak, even with no one to see.
I failed. The thought repeated in her head until she fell into fitful sleep.
* * *
The dream slammed into her.
"Papa?" She reached for her father, but a strong grip on her shoulders stopped her. "Where are you going?"
"Away." The monster didn't look back.
"When will you be back?"
"I won't." He whirled, and she shrank from the rage in his bestial eyes. "I can't stand to see you any longer. It's your fault she's gone, and I can't live with that reminder. You look too much like her…" His voice cracked and he swallowed. "I-I can't…bear it."
She didn't understand. "Please, Papa, don't leave me!" Tears streamed down her cheeks and her whole body shook. "I'll be a good girl. I'll work harder. I'll—"
The hand squeezed her shoulder tighter. "Come, child. Now!"
The monster turned away, his shoulders shaking, fists clenched. He limped down the stairs and up the street.
"Papa!"
A cork popped and Papa tipped the bottle to his lips. She threw herself down the stairs, but a huge arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her away. In vain, she kicked, screamed, and clawed at the man carrying her. The door clanged shut, cutting her off from daylight and plunging her into darkness. The sound echoed through the building with a ring of terrible finality. Papa wouldn't come for her. He had abandoned her.
Ilanna bolted upright, gasping for air, her heart racing. She took deep breaths in a desperate attempt to calm her mind. The nightmares had returned since she'd joined House Hawk. But she knew better. They were her memories, returning to her. Her time in the Menagerie had locked them away, but now they had started to come back. Whether it was due to her diet, a full night of sleep, or no longer fearing for her life, she didn't know. All she knew is that they terrified her. She wished they'd go away.
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