"Yes. We've been training over a year now. Don't you think it's time for me to handle proper steel?"
Ullard pushed back his bowl and turned to face her. His eyes narrowed and he stroked his chin. "Why?"
His question caught her off guard. "What do you mean 'why'? To protect myself, of course."
"From who?"
Ilanna reddened and she dropped his gaze. "F-from…anyone. Anyone out there."
Ullard raised an eyebrow. "Might be a bit odd to see a young girl carrying a sword on the streets of Praamis, don't you think? Could attract unwanted attention."
She snorted. "You're telling me the Serpents have no way to conceal a blade?"
Ullard inclined his head. "It'll cost. More than you'd imagine. Unless you want a practice blade."
"Not a chance. I want the best you have." She dropped a purse onto the table. "If this isn't enough, I'll get more."
"Hmm." The purse clinked in Ullard's hand. "It's a start."
Ilanna nodded. "Then I'll get you the rest. When can you have it ready?"
"I'll bring it to the Aerie tomorrow."
Ilanna crossed her arms. "Denber isn't going to hear about this, is he?"
Ullard hesitated a heartbeat too long before answering. "Of course not."
"Good." She turned to leave.
"Hawkling." His words stopped her. "This is House Serpent, not the Aerie. Remember that if you ever come back."
She met his eyes and shivered at the menace written there. You come in here, they seemed to say, you show me the respect I'm due.
With a nod, she strode from the common room. She ignored the too-curious glances of the younger Serpents and the glare of the green-robed apprentice at the entrance to the House. Her heart raced as she strode through the tunnels back to House Hawk. She had what she came for.
* * *
A small part of Ilanna felt glad to be on solid earth. In the weeks following Bert's death, she'd dreaded returning to the rooftops. Prynn had noticed and kept her occupied with duties on the ground. Today, he'd ordered her to run an errand for Master Hawk. She'd passed the morning walking the streets of Praamis, delivering a handful of messages around the city. The job of a Hound, perhaps, but she didn't care. Anything to keep her feet securely on the cobblestones.
She'd completed her errand half an hour ago, but had no orders to return to the Aerie. Prynn won't mind if I take a few hours for myself.
The weight of her new saber comforted her. The special pants Ullard had made for her concealed the slim blade. They made walking awkward, but she would grow accustomed to them. And she only needed to wear them on the streets. Up on the rooftops, she could wear the scabbard on her back.
Ilanna wanted to visit her garden, but something made her take a longer route through the back streets and alleys of Praamis. She told herself it was to avoid an encounter with the Praamian Guard. They would look askance at a girl carrying a concealed sword. Better to be safe.
But she knew better. She had another reason for taking the circuitous path to her garden. Bert's death had filled her with anger—at herself and at the person responsible for her troubles. If she could find him…
Cries of pain at the far end of the alley brought a smile to her lips. It has to be.
She strode toward the sound, unhurried and unafraid. She gripped the hilt of her saber tighter. The solid feel of leather and steel filled her with confidence.
Sabat stood over a boy in the tattered clothing of a Fox. The small figure cringing in the mud couldn't have been a day over ten. Tears tracked through the dirt and grime on his cheeks, and he held his hands up—a pitiful protection against the hulking Bloodbear. With a snarl, Sabat unleashed a kick powerful enough to shatter ribs. The Fox cried out and curled into a protective ball.
Sabat spat. "You Whites think it's all fun and games, lifting purses. But when it comes time to haul your ass out of a jam, you let us do all the work. And then you try to avoid paying what you owe?"
The Fox tried to speak. Sabat's kick snapped his head back, spraying blood.
Fire burned in Ilanna's chest. "Always picking on the weak ones, aren't you?"
Sabat's head jerked up. His gaze darted toward her, eyes going wide. "Well, if it isn't the little Hawkling, back from the dead. I'm so glad to see you recovered from your little accident." A sneer curled his lip. "It wouldn't do to have all the Hawks lying dead in the streets, now would it?"
Ilanna forced herself to remain motionless, though every muscle screamed at her to rush forward and cut him down.
Sabat turned his back on the wheezing, gagging Fox and strode toward Ilanna. "It's a shame you've spent all of your time flitting around the rooftops, little Pigeon." He spat the last word. "You could be learning some real skills, the sort of skills that makes a woman truly useful."
She found it hard to believe he was the same age as she. He'd grown a lot since their last encounter. At fourteen, he towered head and shoulders above her and his shoulders and waist had filled out. He had muscle beneath the fat covering his chest and belly. His hands bore scars from countless fights.
Ilanna's hands trembled—not with fear, but with rage. After what he'd done to her, she had wanted her revenge. She'd envisioned this moment a thousand times in the last year. Months of training with Ullard, endless hours working the practice dummies. I'm ready.
She clenched her fists. "No more, Sabat. You've tormented your last poor soul."
"What are you going to do, little girl? Slap me to death?" He threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Ilanna stood her ground in silence. Have your fun, you bastard. Come a few steps closer and we'll see what happens.
Sabat reached into his cloak and drew her dagger. "I've got your pig poker right here."
"Keep it." She watched him, judging the distance between them. Perfect. "I have another."
She whipped the saber from its hidden sheath. Steel whistled through the air and she slapped him hard with the flat of the blade. Eyes going wide, he clapped a hand to his cheek. Blood trickled from a shallow gash below the bone. His face twisted into a snarl and he prepared to rush her.
"Yes, please, take a step forward." She rested the tip of her saber against the hollow of his throat and bared her teeth. "It would be so easy to end it all right here." She moved closer, pushing on the blade.
Sabat leaned backward to avoid being impaled. "E-Easy there, Hawkling. I was just…"
The sword flashed and the tip carved a deep furrow along his forehead. Before he could move, the blade returned to his throat. Blood trickled into his eyes. When he tried to wipe it away, she slashed the back of his hands.
With a cry of rage, he slapped the blade away and charged like an enraged bull. Ullard's lessons flashed through her mind. She slipped from his path and thrust out a foot. Her kick tangled his feet and he fell face first into the alley muck.
"Really, Sabat." She snorted. "I thought they taught you Bloodbears how to fight."
He leapt to his feet, his face turning purple. "You cunt! I'll rip you apart!" He charged again, arms spread wide to encircle her.
She didn't bother to dodge, simply extended her sword in a perfect thrust. Sabat's momentum prevented him from stopping in time. He screamed as he impaled himself on her saber. The blade sliced deep into his right shoulder. She kicked out and her boot slammed into the fork of his legs.
Sabat fell, hands clasped between his thighs. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He rolled on the street, muck staining his clothes. He screamed in mindless pain and rage. "Kill you! Kill you!"
A vicious grin twisted Ilanna's face. "I doubt that very much." She drove her saber into the soft flesh behind his right knee, thrusting deep enough to strike bone.
"What's going on?"
Ilanna looked up from Sabat's huddled form. Three Bloodbears rushed down the alley, eyes wide in shock and horror. They stared at the weeping, bloodied heap in the muck.
"Stay out of this, if you value your lives."
"You
little bitch!" One of the Bloodbears—a boy smaller and clumsier than Sabat—rushed her.
The tip of her sword stopped him in his tracks. "Stay. Out. Of. This. Don't make me kill him, then the rest of you." Her grin turned feral. "Just for the fun of it."
The Bloodbear held up his hands, jaw working soundlessly. The other two made no move to approach.
Ilanna circled Sabat, keeping a wary eye on the Bloodbears. She slashed the muscles behind both elbows. His arms flopped limply at his side. He screamed as her blade removed the tip of an ear.
"Please, stop!" He curled into a protective ball.
Pitiful. Disgust twisted her stomach. And to think, I was afraid of him.
She'd played this day over and over in her mind. She'd carved him to pieces, hacking off limbs until he was nothing more than a torso and head. But now, to see him whimpering and begging for mercy like all those he'd beaten, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Crouching beside him, she whispered into his ear. "Touch me again and I'll finish what I started here. Got it?"
Sabat nodded, sobbing.
"I find out you've been taking it out on anyone outside of House Bloodbear, I'll find you."
Wiping her blade on his clothing, she stood and sheathed her saber. I'm not done with you yet. Her boot flashed out. His head snapped back and blood sprayed from his nose and mouth. She spat. Now I'm done. She turned to face the three Bloodbears. "You know who I am?"
They nodded.
She thrust a finger at the sobbing Sabat. "You know what he did to me?"
They nodded again.
"Then you know why I did what I did. None of you were here. None of you were witness to what happened." One of them looked about to speak. Ilanna dropped her hand to the hilt of her saber, and the Bloodbear's mouth snapped shut. "If any word of this reaches the Houses, know that I will hunt you down."
The three apprentice Bloodbears nodded, eyes wide.
With a final glare, Ilanna turned and stalked up the alley.
Her knees trembled and her hands shook, but her heart felt light. All her rage, frustration, and sorrow, all the emotions she'd bottled up since her beating, unleashed in a glorious explosion. She had her revenge for what he'd done to her a year ago. She had nothing to fear from him. She'd proven she wasn't afraid and, like the coward he was, he wouldn't touch her again.
She stepped into Old Town Market and a smile rounded her lips. She basked in the bright colors and rich scents of the marketplace. Wagons, animals, and pedestrians bustled around her. The busy street no longer pressed in on her. I feel…free.
The familiar fragrance of flowers wafted to her. With a spring in her steps, she crossed the market and turned onto the familiar road. Her heart leapt in anticipation of spending time in her garden once more. Perhaps Ethen will be there today.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The training dummy bled straw and Ilanna laughed aloud, triumphant.
Four years of practice and I'm finally as good as Ethen. Well, as good as he was when he started teaching me.
That day in the garden seemed a lifetime ago. It all did. She had only a few memories of her early years in the Night Guild, of the frightened tyro suffering under Master Velvet's rule, and the insecure apprentice who had tried so hard to earn her place. In their place stood a confident, competent woman, apprentice of House Hawk.
Until today. Excitement coursed through her. She'd dedicated herself to learning the skills of a master thief. It had taken three years, but the day had come. My seventeenth nameday. The day I begin my Undertaking, whatever that is.
Denber, Prynn, and the twins had all remained silent when she questioned them regarding their Undertakings. They'd told her to be patient and wait.
I've waited long enough. Only the Undertaking stood between her and a place as a Journeyman of the Night Guild. Apprehension warred with her elation. An unknown challenge lay ahead. She'd face it with her head held high. You'd be proud of me, Mama. I'm standing tall.
Journeymen Werrin and Willem entered the Aerie, expressions somber. Werrin nodded. "It's time, apprentice."
Ilanna knew them well enough to know they were struggling to hide excited grins. In the year since becoming Journeymen, they'd recovered from their ordeal in the Undertaking. She remembered how haggard her friends had looked, how little she'd seen of them. Anxiety twisted her stomach in knots. What will be required of me? What will I have to do to earn my place in the Night Guild?
Taking a deep breath, she looped the sling around her belt and followed Werrin from House Hawk. Willem took up the rear, forming her honor guard. They led her through the empty tunnels of the Night Guild. Not a word passed between them.
Ilanna's heart pounded. Hard to believe it has been eight and a half years already. Eight and a half years ago, she'd walked these very tunnels, following her new master. The memory of being chosen by Master Hawk remained fresh in her mind, even after all these years. House Hawk had been her home for all those years; she almost felt sorry to leave it all behind.
But the time had come. With each passing year, another Hawk had left her. Prynn first, summoned to his Undertaking during her fourteenth year. Werrin and Willem had left before she turned fifteen. Now it's my turn.
The two Journeymen Hawks stopped at the door to the Menagerie. Stepping aside, they swung open the doors and motioned for her to enter.
"Good luck, Ilanna," Willem whispered. Werrin placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
Ilanna met Werrin's eyes. His smile looked forced. I'm sorry for what I had to do, Werrin.
After becoming a Journeyman, Werrin had professed his affections for her. While flattered, Ilanna had made it clear she had no time for romantic entanglements. Her training on the rooftops of Praamis and her third-story work kept her too busy for anything.
A few nights later, he'd stumbled into the Aerie, reeking of alcohol and semi-coherent. He'd reminded her of his feelings and when she refused him, he tried to force himself on her. Her training with Ullard kicking in, she'd resisted his advances with force. He'd limped for a month after and he still treated her with caution.
But all that's behind me. After today, I'll be on my way to becoming a proper Journeyman.
With a nod to her friends, Ilanna strode through the massive double doors. A smile tugged at her lips as she strode toward the only obvious destination: a circle of light in the heart of the Menagerie. A wave of memories washed over her. She'd stood there, her heart in her throat, waiting to be chosen by the nameless, faceless figures surrounding her. Now, she walked toward the designated spot with confidence, her head held high.
Three familiar figures waited in the ring of torches. All wore the orange-trimmed robes of House Fox. They squinted warily into the darkness, unsure of what to expect. Kit, the boy she'd known as Four, smiled to see her. She exchanged nods with Edgar and Rai, the tyros that had once been Five and Ten.
A rush of joy coursed through her when Ethen entered the ring of light. With a grin, he took his place beside her. A finger's breadth separated their arms. She wanted to slip her hand into his, but resisted the urge. His steadfastness would help to calm her racing heart.
Another familiar figure strode through the circle of torches. Her blood turned to ice. Three years. Three years since she'd humiliated Sabat, left him bleeding in an alley, just as he had to her. She'd gotten her revenge; it had changed her. Her fear had fled, replaced by something else. Something…ruthless.
She avoided him and he hadn't sought her out. He'd changed, too. He walked with a slight limp in his right leg. Her sword had pierced his knee to the bone; it hadn't healed properly. Before, he'd sneered at her, confident in his size and strength. Now, hesitation and fear flashed through the mask of insufferable arrogance. He shoved past her with a growl, bumping her shoulder. Ethen stiffened and Ilanna gripped his wrist.
Sabat took up position behind her. His gaze burned on the back of her neck. Her fingers clasped the hilt of her hidden sword. Can't avoid him h
ere.
One, the other Bloodbear apprentice, followed on Sabat's heels. Eleven shuffled into the circle of firelight, looking frail and hunched in his threadbare Grubber clothing. Eight wore the white-trimmed cloth of House Hound. Errik, the tyro named Two, glided through the darkness like liquid shadow. Only Nine, the unclaimed tyro, remained absent. Relief flashed through Ilanna. She had no desire to see him, not like last time.
Master Gold's familiar voice boomed from the darkness. "Apprentices of the Night Guild. Welcome!"
Lamps and torches flared to light, flooding the Menagerie with blinding brilliance. Ilanna gasped. The Journeymen and House Masters surrounded them. All wore ceremonial robes, each bearing the marks of their Houses. The bright-colored banners of each House hung from the walls, lending an air of solemnity to the proceedings.
Ilanna scanned the crowd. Familiar figures in brown Hawk robes clustered at the far end of the room. Conn, Prynn, Werrin, and Willem stood beside the hulking form of Jarl. Denber towered above them all, taller than even Jarl by a handspan.
Master Gold sat on his ornate wooden chair at the heart of the Menagerie, surrounded by Master Hawk and the respective House Masters. His voice echoed through the vaulted room. "We stand before the Watcher in the Dark, patron god of the Night Guild, and submit ourselves to his judgment."
In unison, the House Masters pulled back their hoods and chanted. "Here, in the sight of the Watcher and your betters, do you, apprentices of the Guild, submit to whatever fate the gods have in store for you?"
The apprentices spoke as one. "We do."
Master Gold rose. "For nine years, the Night Guild has housed you, clothed you, and trained you. Now you must prove that our investment has not gone to waste. You must show us,"—he gestured around the room—"all of us, that you are worthy to take your place in the Houses of the Night Guild."
Ilanna's heart thundered. This is it!
"Step forward, apprentices."
Ilanna obeyed and, together, the apprentices formed a line facing Master Gold.
"Swear before the Watcher and your companions that you will submit to an Undertaking, one worthy of earning a place in the Night Guild, and one befitting the power of our patron god. Do you swear?"
Queen of Thieves Box Set Page 27