Queen of Thieves Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  She sat on the soft ground and Ethen took a seat beside her. Ilanna told him what she could remember of her life before the Night Guild. She occupied her hands with pulling weeds. The activity helped her to push back the pain of remembrance. Perhaps if she cleared enough space, she could plant new flowers.

  Ethen's eyes filled with horror. "So your father gave you away on your nameday?"

  Ilanna nodded.

  He snorted. "And I thought my father was bad!"

  Ilanna turned to him. "You've never talked about him much, Ethen. What was he like?" She was only too glad for the distraction. Her memories had brought back a lot of anger and pain.

  Ethen's shoulders hunched. He dropped his eyes. "Stern. Strict. Angry a lot of the time, but never at us."

  "Us?"

  "Mother. Me. My older brothers." He traced lines in the dirt.

  "Older brothers? How many?"

  "Two. They served in the Praamian Guard with him, until…" He trailed off, swallowing hard.

  Ilanna placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

  He raised his eyes, meeting her gaze with a weak smile. "It's not so bad. Since the Menagerie, the memories are…gone most of the time. Makes things easier."

  A crow cawed in a nearby tree. The bird's mocking voice shattered the fragile calm that had filled the garden. The warmth she'd felt from his presence faded.

  Ethen leapt to his feet, drew his sling from his belt, and hurled a stone at the crow. The rock struck with a loud thwack and the bird dropped out of sight.

  Ethen studied the sling in his hands. "This is the only thing I have left of him, you know. Of any of them. My father taught me to use it. He told me I was too young to hold a sword like my brothers, but even a small boy could protect his family with one of these."

  Ilanna placed a hand on his arm. "What about a small girl?"

  Ethen looked at her, puzzled. "What?"

  "What about me? Could I use it?"

  His brow furrowed. "Of course! But why would you—"

  "Think about it!" Excitement filled her voice. "If you can knock a crow out of a tree at this distance, imagine what it could do to a person. A person like Sabat!"

  Confusion painted Ethen's face.

  "Twelve."

  "Absolutely!" Ethen nodded. "Hurl a rock hard enough and you could knock him out. Maybe even…" He trailed off with a knowing grin.

  Ilanna's smile mirrored his. "Well then, what are we waiting for?"

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "Gah!" Ilanna stomped and hurled the strip of leather to the dirt. "We've been at this for hours and I can't get it right!"

  "Hours?" Ethen snorted. "Please, Ilanna, wait until you've spent weeks at this! My father made me practice every day. He wouldn't let me eat until I hit the target. You're getting off easy."

  Ilanna growled in frustration. "Why is this so difficult?"

  Ethen gave her a sly grin. "You're just used to being good at everything."

  "No, I'm not!"

  "Yes, you are. You mastered the bump and snatch faster than almost anyone. You learned how to use your dagger in a few days. You even got the balance beam right on the first try. Just be patient and keep working at it. You'll get it, just like I did."

  She folded her arms. "I doubt I'll ever be as good as you."

  "Good! Finally something where you come in second place."

  Ilanna punched his shoulder and he yelped.

  Ethen glanced at the sky and his face drained of color. "Watcher's teeth! I'm late."

  Ilanna's eyebrows shot up. She'd never heard Ethen curse.

  "Floran's going to have me flogged if I'm not back before sundown."

  Golden light bathed the garden in a warm glow. The sun dipped toward the Praamis rooftops; she had maybe an hour before sunset. They'd spent most of the day together. Her time in the garden with Ethen had pushed aside all thoughts of the Aerie.

  So much for extra training. She didn't mind. The Perch will be there another day.

  She picked up the sling and handed it to him. "Can you come back tomorrow, Ethen?"

  The boy shook his head. "I don't know when I'll have a chance." He tucked the leather strap into his belt. "Floran isn't too good about letting us have time to ourselves."

  Ilanna's heart sank. "Well, I hope you'll find a way to return. Even if I'm not here, at least you can care for the flower." She gave him a shy smile. "Our flower."

  "Ours it is." Ethen beamed. "When will you return?"

  Ilanna scratched her nose. "I'm not sure. I don't need to come back out to the streets for a few days, but I think I will anyway. Let's say, day after tomorrow? At noon?"

  "Good."

  Her grin turned sly. "And if you're late, it will give me time to practice with the sling. I'm going to be better than you. Some day."

  "I don't doubt it." Ethen grinned. "But not today!"

  Ilanna rolled her eyes. "Where can I get one?"

  Ethen shook his head. "You can't. They don't make them here in Praamis. Most people have never seen them. They're from way up north, in Nysl."

  "Nysl." The name sounded familiar. "Is that where the wine comes from?"

  Ethen's eyes widened. "Do I want to know how you know that?"

  Ilanna giggled and shook her head. Her face fell. "So, if I can't find them here, how am I supposed to practice?"

  Ethen removed the sling from his belt and thrust it toward her. "With mine."

  "B-but it's yours!"

  He shrugged. "I can always make another. A few bits of leather and twine. Nothing to it."

  Ilanna threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Ethen!"

  Ethen returned her hug with feeling. "Of course, Ilanna. Anything for you."

  * * *

  The next two days passed in a blur. Ilanna spent most of her time thinking about her garden. And Ethen. She wanted to leave the Aerie and get back out on the streets. In their short time together, she'd forgotten her cares and worries. Thoughts of Sabat, the Bloodbears, her failures, and even the horrors of the Night Guild had disappeared. It felt wonderful to have someone to talk to—and listen to.

  "Ilanna, you're going to get yourself killed if you don't pay attention!"

  Denber's voice snapped her back to reality. She dangled from one of the Perch's rope bridges, the ground at least two dozen paces below her.

  She swallowed. "Sorry, Denber."

  Denber's eyes flashed. "Sorry isn't enough, Ilanna. I can't take you up on the city rooftops if you're not completely focused."

  That sobered her. "I'm focused, I promise."

  Denber shook his head. "Enough for today. Get back down to the ground and run the Hawk's Dozen. Prynn should be back from his errand by then and he'll have some knife work for you."

  "But…" The look in Denber's eyes forestalled any argument. "Fine."

  He snarled. "Fine?"

  "Yes, sir!"

  Ilanna fled across the rope bridges, ladders, and walkways of the Perch. Her heart thundered. Even after months of training, the heights twisted her stomach in knots. She hadn't yet conquered her fear of falling and it frustrated her. The others flew through the Perch without hesitation. She couldn't move more than a few steps without clinging to a rope or ladder. Denber had noticed and he hadn't been patient with her failures.

  She cast a glance over her shoulder. He's changed since nameday.

  Denber stood on the platform, fists clenched, muscles in his jaw working. Lines had appeared on his face. His eyes looked sunken, his shoulders hunched.

  Almost makes me wish Conn were here again. Denber was happier then.

  She'd seen little of the oldest apprentice. Whatever the Undertaking was, it consumed his time completely. He only returned to the Aerie to grab a quick meal or sleep a few hours before hurrying back out on the streets. She'd wondered where he went, but hadn't the courage to ask.

  In Conn's absence, the burden of training her and the others had fallen to Denber. He seemed ready to crack under the responsibilit
y. He hardly smiled anymore. One wrong word and his temper flared. Even Jarl, whom Ilanna thought unflappable, had hurried out of Denber's way at breakfast that morning.

  Let's hope he doesn't stay like this for long. I miss the happy, friendly Denber. The surly, angry boy standing in the Perch made her want to flee to the streets with the Foxes. Maybe I will.

  Denber slithered down a rope to land lightly beside her.

  "Denber?"

  "What?"

  She recoiled. His temper hadn't cooled. "I-I have to go back out on the streets today."

  "I thought you had enough to cover for a few days."

  "No." She hated lying to Denber, but she'd promised to meet Ethen in the garden today. And maybe he won't be so angry in a few hours.

  "Whatever." He gave a dismissive wave. "Just don't be back too late. I still want you to work with Prynn."

  She nodded. "I'll return in the afternoon."

  With a grunt, Denber strode down the tunnel toward his bunk room.

  Ilanna hurried to change into her Fox clothing and rushed from House Hawk. The Aerie felt hot, suffocating. Denber's anger added to her desire to get out on the streets of Praamis. And she would be meeting Ethen…

  She ran her fingers along the walls of the Night Guild tunnels. She didn't care that she couldn't read the engraved markings. The sensation of the rough, uneven surface comforted her. Her mind conjured fanciful images of whoever had etched them into the stone.

  A pair of Journeymen in the dark green of House Serpent strode toward her, engrossed in conversation. She lowered her eyes and hunched her shoulders. Few Journeymen cared what the apprentices did. As long as she appeared occupied—running an errand or bearing messages for her House—no one would question her. Even the older apprentices of the other Houses took little notice. To all but House Hawk, she was invisible.

  * * *

  "Ethen?" Ilanna dropped into the garden, her boots squishing in the soft muck. "Are you here?" Nothing stirred.

  He's late. The Lady's Bells had tolled out a quarter-hour ago. Doubt twisted her stomach. Would he come at all? She'd enjoyed the time spent together, but what if he had something more important to do? Something more important than her.

  She pushed the thought aside. No, he'll be here! He's just having a hard time getting away.

  She passed the time practicing with Ethen's sling. His instructions repeated in her mind. "Turn your body to the side. Now, swing your arm up and forward in an overhand cast, and step forward with the throw."

  Her first attempts proved wildly unsuccessful. The stones slipped from the small pouch and thumped to the soft earth. The unevenness of the projectiles made it hard to get each throw just right. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to continue. A few more casts and she managed to hurl the rock a short distance—but nowhere near the brick she'd chosen for a target.

  She stomped her foot. "Damn it! Why does this have to be so hard?"

  Over and over, she tried. Each time, the rock clattered in every direction but the one she wanted to send it.

  Sweat dripped down her face and soaked her tunic. Her shoulder ached from the effort. Her frustration mounted with every failed cast.

  There has to be an easier way! Her mind raced, trying to come up with a more effective form of ammunition. Something smooth and even.

  The sun rose to its zenith and still no sign of Ethen.

  It's been an hour and he's still not here. Her heart sank. He's not going to come. She told herself he had a good reason. He had to have been sent on another errand or perhaps more training with the Hounds.

  Tucking her sling into her belt, she cast a glance at her viola. The yellow and violet flower stood out as the only patch of color in the muddy garden. Ethen had been the bright spot in her life. Without him, she wouldn't have survived her time in the Menagerie. He'd given her something to look forward to on the streets of Praamis. Now, she had nothing.

  Well, not nothing. I still have you, my little flower. She filled her cupped hands from the stream and trickled it over the viola. And there's always the Perch.

  Her time with the Foxes had interfered with her training in the Aerie. She hadn't completed the Hawk's Dozen. Denber seemed displeased with her performance and made no attempt to hide it. She remembered Elmar's words. "I will not hesitate to kick you down to a Grubber in a heartbeat."

  Master Hawk had chosen her, a rare honor. She was the only apprentice to join the House in four years. But if she failed to prove her worth, she had no doubt she'd be sent away. If she wanted to remain a Hawk, she had to put aside everything—and everyone—else. Her sole focus had to be her training.

  But I can't leave the garden forever. I won’t! Her mind raced. Perhaps she could come up with a solution. I'll run with the Foxes two or three days each week. I can steal enough to pay my way, and it will give me time to visit the garden.

  That gave her plenty of time to dedicate to training. She would become better—better than Jarl, Denber, even Conn. She would be the best Hawk of all time.

  She scaled the wall and dropped to the cobblestone street beyond. Pulling her Fox cloak tight about her, she hurried toward Old Town Market. A group of Bloodbears lounged in the alley beside the marketplace. The sight of Sabat set her heart thundering.

  I can't let him see me! She ducked into the shadow of a bright-colored awning. Her hand brushed against the strip of leather Ethen had given her. She dismissed the thought before it formed. Her efforts in the garden proved she had even less hope of striking him with the sling. Elmar had said the Bloodbears had Sabat on a tight leash, but there were no Journeymen to stop him from exacting his vengeance. She shuddered; she'd watched him pounding the straw dummy in the Menagerie. He could kill her and not think twice about it.

  Her hand went to the knife on her belt. Maybe if she could sneak up on him, she could end it. Size didn't matter, so long as she held the sharper blade. Prynn had taught her a dozen ways to kill.

  No. That would be stupid. She had little hope of reaching him. Sabat sat surrounded by Bloodbears bigger and stronger than he. He was the smallest of the lot and the youngest. Even if I did get my knife into him, what would the others do?

  She could run, climb, and hide, but fight—and that many? She was a Hawk, not a Serpent. She had to be smarter.

  She ached to do something. He'd tormented her since their first day in the Menagerie. He deserved all the suffering she could wish upon him. Yet, she was surprised to find she no longer feared him. With a smile, she released her grip on the knife and turned away from the Bloodbears. He might be larger and stronger, but she'd made him bleed. She could do so again.

  The streets of Praamis seemed brighter, cheerier than they had that morning. She spotted a mark and bumped his purse with ease. Her nervousness had fled, replaced by a calm confidence. Her size and deft fingers worked to her advantage in the busy crowds. Before she had crossed the Old Town Market, she had three purses. Though near-empty, they held enough coin to pay for a few days.

  She hurried through the streets, eager to return to the Night Guild. She had something to look forward to.

  Denber greeted her in the Aerie. "Good day?"

  Ilanna nodded, relieved. He's in a better mood.

  "If you don't mind, I'd like to go back up to the Perch. But first, I owe you a Hawk's Dozen, right?"

  Denber's face split into a tired smile. "Something like that."

  She grinned. "Then I'd better get running. I've got a lot of work ahead if I'm to keep up with the rest of you."

  Denber's fatigue seemed to melt away and he brightened. "Well, that's why I'm here." For a moment, the old Denber peeked through. "And I've got a lot to teach you. But first, let's run."

  Ilanna fell into step beside the older boy. Despite her disappointment at Ethen's absence, she ran with a light heart. The Perch beckoned her, inviting her to explore its heights. She would heed its call. Soon enough, she would be ready to fly!

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ilanna studi
ed the six trembling tyros in the center of the Menagerie. The children huddled under Master Velvet's baleful glare. Their ragged clothing hung loose on their dirty, emaciated bodies. Wide-eyed with sunken cheeks and filthy hair, they were a truly pathetic lot. Six tyros, hoping for a place in the Houses.

  Hard to believe that was me just a year and a half ago. She'd stood before the Night Guild, half-starved, terrified, uncertain what awaited her. Now, she wore the brown robes of House Hawk and watched the Choosing from amidst the crowd of hooded figures.

  Master Velvet hovered in the shadows of the tunnel. He'd always radiated an aura of menace, a heartbeat away from violence if his commands went unheeded. To Ilanna's eyes, his authority seemed somehow as threadbare and ragged as his namesake vest. Perhaps it was the fact he no longer held power over her.

  Master Velvet belonged to no House, had no official rank beyond instructor of the tyros. According to Prynn, he had once served in the Temple of Prosperity, home of the Illusionist Clerics. Priests of the Illusionist dedicated their lives to the study of the Theory of Illusion, a theological treatise on the science of the mind said to have been penned by the god of coin, success, and madness.

  Master Velvet had used his knowledge to craft the regimen of grueling training, insufficient sleep, an endless litany of demoralization, and the sugar-rich, protein-scarce diet to which all Guild inductees were subjected. The combination of physical and mental exhaustion, compounded by the low-light environment, stole all sense of time and place, broke down any resistance by numbing the tyros' minds. Master Velvet's regimen was intended to steal all sense of identity and self-worth. The former Illusionist Cleric shattered the youths in his care so the Houses of the Night Guild could mold them into productive apprentices and Journeymen.

  Of course, Ilanna had learned all of this only after enduring the torments at Master Velvet's hands. The sight of the ragged tomato-colored vest with its dark bloodstains set her hands trembling with rage. Clenching her fists, she forced her attention back to the ceremony.