Queen of Thieves Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  Denber held a finger to his lips. "Quiet as mice."

  Ilanna followed him up the side of the sloping rooftop, Bert close behind. They edged along the pinnacle with cautious steps. She winced every time a roof tile shifted or grated underfoot, hardly daring to breathe.

  Denber stopped at a chimney. He pulled Ilanna close and held out a hand. "Your rope."

  She unwrapped the thin black rope from around her waist. Taking it, Denber lashed her rope to his own with a quick knot and added Bert's to the other end. He gave it an experimental tug and nodded, satisfied. "Bert, stay up here and keep watch."

  Bert nodded and took the linked ropes. As Denber fashioned a quick harness, Bert looped the rope around the chimney and pulled it tight. He flashed Denber a thumbs up and a grin.

  With a nod, Denber dropped over the edge of the roof and disappeared. The rope creaked under the older boy's weight. Ilanna held her breath. The sound of shattering tiles would give their presence away to the guards below. The rope grated against the tiles, shifted, and hung loose.

  Bert placed his lips against her ear. "He's in. First window down."

  Ilanna fashioned a harness like Denber's, slipped into the loops, and pulled it tight. With a shaky grin, she walked backward and clambered over the edge. She kept a firm grip on the rope as she rappelled down the wall. The harness rubbed against the raw flesh of her thighs, but she refused to let her pain show.

  No more weakness.

  She glanced down. Denber peered up at her from a window a few paces below the level of the roof. He reached out to catch her feet as she dropped. With a grunt, he pulled her into the room beyond. A quick tug on the line and the rope slipped free of her waist.

  Pale moonlight shone through the window, casting eerie shadows. An enormous copper tub occupied one side of the room. Myriad scents and perfumes wafted from the glass bottles littering the table beside the door. Prynn had described the fancy bathrooms of the nobles of Praamis, but she'd never encountered anything half as elegant as Lady Alamastri's bathing chamber.

  Denber jerked a thumb at the open door and Ilanna moved aside. He slipped toward the doorway and peered into the next room. "All clear," he mouthed.

  Ilanna's jaw dropped as she stepped through the door. Shelves lined the chamber from floor to ceiling. More dresses, gowns, robes, and cloaks than she had seen in a lifetime filled the room beyond. Her fingertips brushed across rich velvet, silks, and linens. These have to be worth a fortune!

  Denber ignored the clothing. His nimble fingers darted among the robes and outer cloaks, rifling through pockets in search of treasure. Disappointment showed on his face when he moved on.

  Ilanna peered into the adjoining room. A massive four-poster bed dominated the suite, with a hanging canopy and bedclothes trimmed with lace. An elegant velvet divan and chaise longue occupied the far end of the room. She wanted to curl up on the plush fur rug covering the floor.

  So much wealth.

  The picture window drew her eyes. The city of Praamis stretched around as far as she could see. Thousands of lights sparkled in the darkness, rivaling the stars in the night sky. Ilanna gaped at the breathtaking view. Almost as good as the view from the rooftops.

  Something to her right caught her attention. Someone was in the room with them. She leapt backward and her knife flashed from its sheath. Atop a dressing table sat a mirror. The person staring back had her face, wore the dark clothes of a Hawk, and held a small dagger in trembling hands. Her cheeks flushed, and she was glad for the darkness.

  I hope Denber didn't see that.

  The older boy was occupied rifling through a wooden chest at the foot of the enormous bed. He moved in near-silence; Ilanna felt loud and clumsy by comparison. Denber gestured toward the dressing table. Moonlight streamed through the picture window, revealing a small jewelry box, an assortment of ivory-handled hair brushes, and other items Ilanna had never seen before. She ran her fingers over the items in wonder.

  How can anyone have so much? Before the Night Guild, her family had barely had enough to eat. In the Menagerie, she'd had nothing to call her own. Even in House Hawk, she owned very little beyond her clothing and tools. But the Alamastris had everything: clothes, jewels, a fancy house. More than they could possibly need or even want. That was why Denber had chosen them. Whatever we take, they won't miss.

  Denber placed a hand on her shoulder. "One thing only," he whispered.

  Ilanna wanted to ask why. They can't possibly know we've taken anything. The older boy moved on before she could speak.

  Fine. Just one thing. She fingered the jewelry box. Whatever is in here has to be worth a lot.

  She ran her fingers over the contents. In the darkness, she had no way of knowing the value of the items within. Necklaces, pendants, bracelets, earrings, rings, and other pieces she didn't recognize. So which should I take?

  Denber whispered in her ear. "Come on, Ilanna. We've got to get out of here."

  Disappointment flashed through her. She didn't want to leave yet, not when the Alamastris had so many amazing things to explore. But Denber had given the order, so she had to obey.

  The door lock rattled. Ilanna's heart stopped. She recognized the sound of a key inserted into the lock and the click of tumblers. She stood there, frozen in fear. Denber seized her wrist and dragged her toward the wardrobe. Halfway there, a gut-wrenching realization tore through her: she'd left the jewelry box open! Tearing her hand from his grasp, she raced to the dresser and snapped the jewelry box lid shut. Without hesitation, she turned to sprint after Denber. Before she'd taken two steps, the door swung open.

  Too late!

  Lantern light streamed into the room. Ilanna had a split second to think. She dove beneath the massive bed with a rustle of cloth. Footsteps approached the bed and Ilanna saw the outline of slippers. The mattress above Ilanna sagged as the feet disappeared from view. She lay perfectly still, her heart thundering. Don't move, she told herself.

  The tramp of a pair of boots sounded in the corridor. She held her breath.

  "Come on in, darling." A woman's voice spoke. "The Lord won't be home for at least another hour."

  "Erie, you know we're not supposed to be in here." A man, now.

  "But who's to know, Arelin? I'm her ladyship's maid, not some scullery wench to be bedded in the pantry!"

  The boots approached the bed. "Still, Erie. It don't feel right doing this."

  "Why not? The Lord and Lady treat us like slaves rather than servants. Turnabout is fair play, you know that."

  The man grunted and the weight lifted from atop Ilanna's back. "Not here, Erie. The Lord's been good enough to us. Besides, I know of a better place where we can…"

  The door creaked shut behind the pair, muffling the man's words.

  Ilanna gasped. Tension drained from her body. Without realizing it, she'd drawn her knife. Her hands trembled. She didn't want to think what she would have done had they discovered her. Sheathing the blade, Ilanna crawled out from under the bed and sprinted for the wardrobe.

  Relief flitted across Denber's face. "Twisted hell! I thought…"

  "I'm fine. Got what you came for?"

  Denber nodded. "You?"

  Ilanna patted her pocket and grinned.

  "Back we go."

  Ilanna's hands shook as she reached for the rope. She forced her fingers to grip it tight and focused on the effort of pulling herself up hand over hand. She'd never felt so relieved to see Bert's grinning face up on the roof.

  He held out a hand. "Had me worried, you two."

  Ilanna forced a smile and staggered a few paces away. She leaned on her knees, gasping. Her stomach heaved and lurched, threatening to disgorge its contents. Ilanna swallowed hard and clenched her fists.

  Denber eyed her with a curious expression. "You all right?"

  Ilanna nodded and straightened. "Fine, just excited." They still had the return crossing, and the journey back to the Night Guild held its own perils. She had no time for fear.

&nb
sp; Denber helped her up. "Come on, then. Time to go home."

  They slipped along the rooftop. Their soft leather boots made no sound on the tiles, and the wind obscured any whispers of their passage. When they reached the black rope, Denber let out a bird call. He frowned at Willem's answering call. He held up a clenched fist. "Wait."

  Ilanna settled to the rooftop just as the rattle of a carriage reached them. A guard shouted, "Open the gates!"

  Ilanna peered over the edge of the roof. The gate swung open and a carriage clattered into the courtyard. A servant rushed from the mansion to open the carriage door. "Welcome home, my Lord, my Lady. I trust the party at Lord Coladani's was—"

  "An utter outrage!" A woman's shrill voice drifted toward them. "That painted whore Lady Coladani insisted that—"

  "Now, now, dear." A man who could only be Lord Alamastri emerged from the carriage. "We mustn't speak ill of our hosts. The Coladanis are among the wealthiest nobles in the city. You cannot take offense when they..." The mansion's front door boomed shut behind the nobles, cutting off their conversation.

  Ilanna's heart raced. We got out just in time! What had looked like a simple job had nearly gone terribly awry thanks to the Alamastris' early return.

  Willem's "all clear" signal came a moment later. Denber motioned for Ilanna to go first. She reached for the rope, but jerked her hand back. She'd almost tugged on the string Willem had warned her to avoid at all costs.

  Heart thundering, Ilanna climbed onto the rope, settling her weight. Her stomach twisted at the thought of the arduous crossing. Every time she moved, she feared she'd fall. Thankfully, her hands no longer trembled. She kept her eyes fixed on the rope before her and gritted her teeth. I can do this!

  Something shifted in her tunic. The ring!

  Acting on instinct, Ilanna's hand darted to her hidden pocket. Her fingers closed around the ring just as it slipped out. The shift of her weight set the rope wobbling and she swayed, losing her balance. She clung to the ring with her left hand and the rope with her right. She didn't dare move. A gust of wind could knock her from her precarious perch.

  Every muscle in her body tensed. Slowly, she brought her left hand up to her face and closed her fingers around the rope, clutching the ring between her forefinger and thumb. Moving as little as she dared, she slipped the ring onto her gloved right hand.

  She exhaled in relief and regained her balance. Hand over hand, she pulled herself across and slumped to the rooftop beside Willem. She lay on the cool tiles, gasping for breath. The merry twinkling of the stars overhead had never looked so beautiful.

  Denber helped her up, nodding approval. "Well done."

  Bert threw his arms around her shoulders and led her a few paces away. "Will you do the honors?"

  Ilanna took the string and stared at it. "What am I supposed to do?"

  He grinned. "Pull!"

  She yanked, and the rope sagged. Denber and Willem hauled on the rope, gathering it into a neat pile. By the time Werrin joined them, Denber had the rope looped around his chest. "Come on. Let's fetch Prynn and head home."

  * * *

  Denber waved his arms in a grand gesture. "Gentlemen and lady, behold the fruits of our labors." He tipped up the leather purse, spilling gold and silver onto the table.

  The apprentices applauded. Denber swept an expansive bow. "Thank you, thank you!" He seized a goblet of watered wine and raised it. "And a special thanks to the Alamastris! May the Watcher reward them for their contributions."

  Prynn prodded the small pile of coins. "How much is it?"

  Denber shrugged. "Not quite sure. Enough, though. At least ten or fifteen imperials."

  Ilanna's eyes widened. "A fortune!"

  "For us, perhaps. For the Alamastris, the paltry sum thrown into a drawer beside their bed. What did you get?"

  "Oh! I nearly forgot." Ilanna slipped the ring from her finger and handed it to Denber, who passed it to Prynn.

  "Hmm." The boy held it up to the light. "Proper gold, no doubt. The stone looks a bit cloudy, but it could be real. I'll take it to a jeweler tomorrow. Maybe get a dozen imperials. No more than fifteen."

  Ilanna's jaw dropped. "Fifteen imperials?"

  Prynn nodded and grinned at her. "You are clearly a woman of discerning taste. Your haul is almost the same size as Denber's!"

  The twins and Bert clapped her on the shoulder, and Denber nodded his approval. Ilanna glowed beneath the praise. She slipped onto the bench beside Denber and listened to the apprentices dividing the loot. They counted out six shares—one for each of them—then a seventh.

  "Who's that for?"

  "Jarl."

  "Jarl?"

  Denber nodded. "It's the Hawk's way. The Pathfinders keep the roofs safe for us. In return, they get an equal share of every haul we take."

  The boys cheered at Jarl's arrival. The big boy smiled and, with a grunt, joined them in celebration.

  As the festivities progressed, Ilanna's excitement drained away, replaced by exhaustion. She'd trained hard all that day, and her evening's activities had taken a toll. Now, she wanted nothing more than to sleep. Without a word, she slipped from the common room. She didn't bother with the pile of sewing atop her bed; she shoved it to the floor and climbed under her blankets.

  Every muscle in her body ached, but she welcomed the sensation. I did my part. Tonight, she'd earned the right to call herself a Hawk.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  How long since I last had a moment to myself? Ilanna reclined against a steep rooftop, relishing the warmth of the tiles on her back. Denber had given her the day off. Months of training had taken a toll on her body and mind. After weeks of preparation for the Alamastri job and the excitement of the previous night, she welcomed the respite.

  The Black Spire loomed in the distance, thrust like an obsidian dagger into the belly of the sky. It called to her, enticing her to try and fail—as had all those before her.

  She climbed to her feet and waved farewell to the looming tower. Maybe someday. Today, I have somewhere to be.

  The bustle of the streets below lured her. She slithered down a drainpipe, leapt to a lower rooftop, shimmed across a narrow ledge, and hopped down a pile of crates. After weeks spent on unsteady rooftops, she had a new appreciation for solid ground.

  She ducked behind a pile of refuse, crouching in the shadows of a wagon. A band of heavy-set boys wearing red armbands tramped up the street. Heart thundering, she moved on only after the Bloodbears had disappeared. She kept to the busy avenues and thoroughfares. The muted brown of her Hawk clothes blended with the muddy streets of the Merchant District. Uncertain if she was in Fifth Claw territory, she preferred to stay out of sight.

  She brightened at the sight of the colorful awnings and stalls of Old Town Market. She hurried toward the busy marketplace, slipping through the throng of people, animals, and vehicles. Heavy-laden wagons and ornate carriages rumbled past, adding to the noise of commerce. Her eyes darted in search of Bloodbears and the Praamian Guard. She hadn't forgotten the lessons learned during her time as a Fox.

  She clutched the silver coins Denber had given her. My share of last night's haul. Two drakes, more than she'd held in a lifetime. All mine, for whatever I want. The question is: what do I want?

  Stopping to gawk at the gaudy items in a merchant's stall, she ran her fingers over ivory-handled brushes, ornamental knives of brass and iron, wooden toys, and bolts of soft cloth. She didn't bother watching for Foxes; her purse held nothing but a few ingots of rubbish metal, a trick Alun had taught her to distract light-fingers. She kept her small fortune in her hands where no Fox could snatch it.

  A pile of fabric caught her attention: bright crimson roses printed on a creamy background. A memory flashed through her mind.

  She sat before a small mirror. With slow, careful strokes, she brushed her dark hair, counting to fifty as Mama taught her. Pink ribbons lay on the dresser, ready to tie in her hair once she finished braiding. Viola studied her cheeks, rosy from
a scrubbing in the burbling stream.

  She hadn't dared hope for anything today—her eighth nameday. Papa had closed the chandlery months ago. What little money he didn't drink away went to buying food. But the week before, to her surprise, Papa had promised to take her out. He'd even smiled for a moment. Then his eyes had turned sad and he'd spent the rest of the night at the table, bottle in hand.

  "Maybe he'll be happy today. Or at least not as angry."

  She ran her hands over her new dress. She'd spent months sewing it from scraps of fabric left over after preparing Mistress Irya's curtains, always working in Papa's absence. Better to do it behind his back than be scolded for wasting time sewing something for herself when she had work to do.

  He has to love the flowery pattern! It was Mama's favorite.

  Finishing with the ribbons, Viola checked her reflection in the mirror one last time. Satisfied, she skipped down the creaking stairs and into the dining room. "I'm ready, Papa."

  Papa sat clutching an empty bottle. Pulling his head from his hands, he studied her through bleary eyes. "Let's be off, then."

  Remembrance brought a stab of anger but, with it, a sense of longing. The cloth had belonged to Mama.

  She waved to the merchant. "How much for this?"

  "Five bits." He studied her with a raised eyebrow.

  "Two." She had a faint memory of her mother arguing with a wine merchant over the price of the bottle of wine her father emptied the moment they arrived home.

  "Three, and that's my final offer!"

  With a grin, Ilanna passed the silver drake to the cloth merchant.

  The man's eyes widened, but he handed back her change with a shrug. "Would you like it wrapped, little miss?"

  Ilanna nodded.

  He held up a finger. "One copper bit extra gets you a nice ribbon."

  "No, thank you. Just the cloth."

  The merchant handed her the bundle of cloth, tied tight with twine. "Apprentice smile on you this day."