Queen of Thieves Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  Ilanna stifled a growl. “I respect your desire to protect your master’s time, but I have to see Master Gold today.”

  Entar waved at the hard, wooden chair across from the Guild Master’s office door. “Like I said, Journeyman. Have a seat, and if—if—Master Gold has a minute in his day, I will usher you in.”

  Anger churning in her gut, Ilanna sat. The tight folding of Entar’s hands and the set of his jaw spoke of the tenacity of a loyal underling. She’d have better luck enticing a smile from Bryden and a kiss from Master Bloodbear. Entar would no sooner budge than the earthen wall behind him.

  After what seemed an infuriating eternity, Master Gold’s door opened. Master Serpent glided from the office and strode away with a nod for Ilanna.

  Master Gold poked his head out of the office. “Entar, what’s next on the docket?”

  Entar cleared his throat. “You have five minutes until your meeting with Journeyman A—”

  “Journeyman Ilanna?” Master Gold’s words interrupted Entar. “What brings you here?”

  “A matter of some importance,” Ilanna said, shooting a glare at the seated aide.

  “Well, come on in.” The Guild Master stepped aside.

  Entar’s expression soured. “But Master Gold, you have—”

  “Will this take long, Ilanna?”

  Ilanna shook her head. “No, Master Gold. Two or three minutes of your time, I promise.”

  Master Gold held up a hand to stifle Entar’s protest. “Thank you, Entar. I am aware of my next engagement. The Journeyman and I will be quite quick, I promise.”

  The aide made a decidedly miffed sound and turned back to his ledger.

  Ilanna hid her grin as she entered Master Gold’s office.

  “He means well.” A hint of annoyance crept into the Guild Master’s voice. “Loyal as a guard dog, and at least twice as bright.”

  Ilanna grinned. “I doubt the Long Keeper himself could get past Entar without scheduling a month in advance.”

  Master Gold chuckled. “How can I help you, Ilanna?”

  “Two things. First, this.” She drew three purses from within her cloak and set them on the desk. “Two hundred imperials each.”

  Eagerness sparkled in Master Gold’s eyes. “Wonderful!” He made the purses disappear into a desk drawer with the skill of a street illusionist. “Dare I ask where they come from?”

  “Lord Illidan, Lord Cairus, and Lord Ulimar.” She studied the Guild Master’s expression at the last name. His eyelids didn’t so much as flicker.

  Does he know that I know he’s the one sending the notes? If so, he’s damned good at hiding it.

  “Excellent.” He stroked the head of the falcon brooch pinned to his jacket. “That should be enough for now.”

  “For now? How much more do you need?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea.” He jerked a thumb at the desk. “That six hundred won’t go half as far as I need it to.” He held up a placating hand. “It should buy enough Journeymen to keep the Bloody Hand’s offer off the table, but I know Bernard. He’s doing exactly the same thing, and I doubt he has to keep it a secret. If he has enough of his Hounds behind him…”

  “Two-thirds, according to Allon.”

  Master Gold cursed. “Too many. He can operate with impunity, using his Hounds to put out feelers, deliver bribes, and find him the gold for those bribes. All I have is you.”

  “What of Masters Hawk, Serpent, and Scorpion? Can’t they help you?”

  Master Gold tilted his head. “Master Hawk does what he does out of a desire to care for his House, but Masters Scorpion and Serpent are more swayed by gold. I can’t ask them to earn the coins I’ll use to pay them. No, Ilanna, we’re alone in this. Which is why I need you to finish the Duke’s job as quickly as possible. With the gold we’ll earn from that, I should have more than enough to keep the Journeymen happy.”

  “I understand your need, Master Gold, but I trust you can understand the importance of doing this job right. I’m facing off against not just the Duke’s most secure creation, but against his Arbitors as well. One wrong move, a single misstep, and it’ll be me dancing at the end of a hangman’s noose.” She gave a bitter chuckle. “If I live that long.”

  “I do not take your task lightly, Ilanna, but the Bloody Hand will not wait long before asking again. Perhaps they will stop asking entirely. I need as much as you can bring me.”

  “Then I need something from you.”

  Master Gold quirked an eyebrow.

  “Waive my Guild dues for as long as it takes me to complete this job.”

  The Guild Master’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Ilanna sneered. “It seems I forgot to ask the Guild Council permission to delay paying my dues. Bryden came to me demanding it—a pathetic twenty imperials.”

  “So why not pay it?”

  “Because,” Ilanna growled, “if I’m to complete this job, I need as much independence as possible. This is the greatest challenge the Night Guild has ever undertaken, and I can’t have some fool breathing down my neck over something as ridiculous as House dues.”

  Master Gold stroked his chin.

  “Think of the endgame, Master Gold.” Ilanna leaned forward. “That sarcophagus is worth more than the entire Guild earns in five years. If I succeed…” She didn’t need to complete the thought.

  “Done.” Master Gold nodded. “I’ll have Entar draw up the waiver immediately.”

  “Thank you.” Ilanna inclined her head. “I will do what I can to bring you more, but I cannot guarantee anything. I must be completely focused on this job if I am to succeed.”

  Master Gold’s face grew earnest. “And we need you to succeed, Ilanna. We have to keep the Bloody Hand at bay, whatever the cost. If you can do this, you may save not just the Night Guild, but the entire city of Praamis.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jarl and Darreth looked up from the blueprint table as Ilanna strode into the room. “This had better be good.”

  Jarl’s jaw tightened. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Ilanna raised her eyebrow.

  Darreth squinted in her direction. “Your ever-eloquent comrade excels in understatement. We’re dealing with problems.”

  Ilanna clenched her teeth and tried to push down her frustration. Two days of studying Lord Auslan’s mansion and she still hadn’t found an unguarded entrance. “Let’s hear it.”

  Darreth’s fingers twitched. “The Hawk and I have spent every spare minute he has poring over these plans. I’m afraid our results aren’t promising.”

  “Why?”

  The Scorpion sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m ashamed to admit, but a good deal of it is far beyond my understanding. Don’t get me wrong, I deciphered the mathematics easily enough, but the complexity of the design is a tad beyond my abilities.”

  “Understood. Which is why I had you work with Jarl to…” She trailed off as Jarl shook his head. “You, too?”

  Jarl counted among the Pathfinders’ most skilled metal-workers. He’d spent two years of his apprenticeship working with metalsmiths and carpenters. His additions to the Hawk’s Highway had significantly improved its stability and opened dozens of new avenues and shortcuts around the city. If the vault door was beyond his skill, no one in the Night Guild could solve the problem.

  “You want to bring in someone else.”

  Jarl nodded.

  “Who?”

  “Master Lorilain. She’s good.”

  “You apprenticed under her, didn’t you?”

  Jarl replied with a nod.

  “Can she be trusted?”

  Jarl’s nod came more slowly. “Guild pays her well.”

  Master Lorilain was one of the craftsmen in Praamis who catered to the Night Guild. In return for handsome fees that bordered on the exorbitant, she provided the Guild with metal-wrought tools and equipment. The extra gold bought her silence, but Ilanna couldn’t be certain the smith wouldn’t inform on them should the Duke provide prope
r motivation—financial or otherwise.

  “We can’t do it without her?”

  Jarl shook his head. “Handful of smiths in Praamis can do the job. She’s among ’em.”

  Ilanna hesitated. She couldn’t risk the Duke finding out about her plan ahead of time, but she needed someone who could recreate the blueprints. “I need to meet her first.”

  Jarl shrugged.

  She turned to Darreth. “You said problems. Multiple. What else?”

  Darreth tapped his graphite stick on the symbols that filled the upper right corner of the Duke’s blueprint. “I’ve spent the last two days working on these, tried every cipher and code I know. I showed it to half of House Scorpion. Nothing.”

  “Damn it!” Ilanna pressed her fists into the table. She’d had pored over those symbols for hours and come no closer to understanding them. She’d hoped Darreth could figure it out.

  Darreth’s eyes slid away. “I’ve a few more people I can show it to, but after that…”

  After he failed, what else could she do? Perhaps Master Hawk or Master Gold could help her. But she wouldn’t turn to the House or Guild Master until she had no other choice.

  “Keep at it, Darreth. We need to figure out what they mean.”

  “Well, I have a theory.” Uncertainty filled Darreth’s voice and wrinkled his forehead. “But I’m loathe to say anything until—”

  “Spit it out.” Ilanna’s voice cracked like a whip. “We’ve got nothing to go on, so even crazy notions could give us a lead.”

  Darreth drew in a deep breath. “Mind you, I can’t make sense of the symbols, but something tells me they’re related to whatever mechanism is used to trigger the lock.”

  Ilanna leaned forward, eager. “What makes you say that?”

  Darreth’s finger tapped an empty space in the middle of the illustrated vault door. “If I was designing this door, I’d put the lock here. Chest height, close to the handle. And there certainly wouldn’t be a gaping hole in the middle of the door.”

  Ilanna narrowed her eyes. The blueprints depicted a circular door that, according to Darreth’s calculations, was close to three paces across and high, with a thickness matching the length of her forearm. She didn’t understand the rest of the illustration, but couldn’t dispute Darreth’s logic.

  “So you think these symbols”—she motioned at the markings—“are somehow related to the locking mechanism?”

  “That’s the best I can come up with.”

  “It bears thinking. Keep at it. See if you can crack it.”

  Darreth gave her a crooked smile, and his eyes met hers for an instant.

  “Anything else?”

  Jarl nodded. “Need more hands.”

  “For the escape route?”

  Jarl shook his head. “Vault tunnel.”

  Ilanna gave a dismissive wave. “I’m sure House Grubber has a few able bodies who’d be interested in a few weeks away from the street.” She snorted. “For most of them, it’ll be a pleasant respite. Get as many as you need, Jarl. But only those who can keep their mouths shut. They’ll earn double their day rate for discretion.”

  Jarl nodded.

  “How goes the escape route?”

  “Got it figured, I think.”

  “Good. Will you need help to rig it, or can you handle it alone?”

  Jarl scratched his shaggy chin. “Gorin’ll do.”

  “Only if you have to.” Ilanna’s face hardened. “The fewer people that know, the less chance of mistakes. Did Allon get you that map of the sewer system I asked him to draw up?”

  Jarl nodded.

  “Good. Any more problems that need handling?”

  Darreth and Jarl exchanged glances and shook their heads.

  “So be it. Darreth, keep at these symbols until you figure them out. Jarl, you and me are going to pay a visit to that smith of yours.”

  * * *

  Ilanna tried hard not to gape at Master Lorilain. The woman stood well over six feet tall, but it was her girth that so impressed Ilanna. Beside the smith, the hulking Jarl seemed frail and petite. Master Lorilain had small hands but forearms thicker than Ilanna’s calves. The muscles in her shoulders and arms bunched with every movement. Jarl grunted as the smith pounded him on the back.

  “Who’s this now?” The smith gave Ilanna a once-over with eyes as dark as her ash-stained forge and pushed a lock of curling brown hair out of her dusty face. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend, Jarl.”

  Jarl reddened. “Master Lorilain,” he mumbled, “meet Journeyman Ilanna. Ilanna, Master Lorilain.”

  “Ilanna, eh?” The smith crossed her arms and tapped her hammer against the meat of her shoulder. “You treatin’ the big lug good?”

  Ilanna returned the gaze with icy calm. “Good as he deserves.” She had no need to disabuse Master Lorilain of her notions, and if it encouraged the smith to help, all the better.

  After a moment, Master Lorilain’s face split into a grin. “I like this one, Jarl. You could’ve done far worse.”

  Ilanna couldn’t help returning the grin as Jarl turned the color of a fresh-picked tomato.

  Master Lorilain set down her hammer. “What can I do for the Guild? I assume you’re here on business, not paying your old master a social call.”

  Jarl produced the copy of the blueprint Allon had sketched out. He’d insisted he needed more time for a truly accurate duplicate, but this would suffice to give the smith an idea of what they expected. Better to present Master Lorilain a half-completed replica than take the risk she’d recognize the original and flat-out refuse the job.

  The smith shoved aside a mess of tools and scrap metal and laid the blueprint atop a soot-covered table. “Let’s see what you’ve got here.” She studied the illustration for long minutes, then looked up at them. “You’re wanting me to build this?”

  Jarl nodded.

  “Not sure you know what you’re asking here.” She tapped the drawings with a dirty forefinger. “What you’ve got here is a room with walls, floor, and ceiling made entirely out of cast steel sheets. With each sheet being roughly two paces long and one across, you’re talking a great Swordsman-damned lot of metal to build it. These dimensions correct?”

  Jarl nodded again.

  “So a room that’s five paces long and wide, with a ceiling just above the average man’s head. I don’t need to do the sums to tell you that you’re talking a few tons of cast steel.” She looked at Ilanna and smirked. “By your girlie’s expression, I can see I’ll have to keep things simple.”

  Ilanna stiffened at the use of girlie and the insult, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “Most smiths work with forged metal—steel that’s heated red-hot and hammered into shape. But for a room of this size, it’d take a dozen master smiths months to complete this job using forged metal. Judging by these markings, I can see they went with cast metal—steel that’s melted down and poured into a mold. It’ll then be rolled out to the correct texture.”

  “Now, cast steel ain’t as tough and flexible as forged steel, so the sheets’d need to be mounted on a frame. Iron’d do best for the bones, as it’s tough and can handle all that weight of steel. But a frame wouldn’t be enough. There’d have to be a solid bed of stone beneath. I’m no stonemason, but I’d say granite or slate. Should support the weight of the metal and give you a solid foundation for the steel—plus whatever’s going to be stored inside this room.”

  Ilanna shrugged. “So what’s the problem?”

  Master Lorilain rolled her eyes. “Where to start?” She counted off the items on her fingers. “First, it’s expensive. Like ‘buy yourself a patent of nobility’ expensive. Second, you’re talking a team of stonemasons working for weeks to build the foundation, and again as much time to build the iron frame and weld the steel plates together. Third, you’re not going to get your hands on the material you need before the end of the year.”

  Ilanna’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  The smith nodded. “
You heard.” She tapped the blueprints. “Only one place in the world makes steel like this: Odaron.”

  Jarl sucked in a breath, but the name meant nothing to Ilanna. “Odaron?”

  “City of Steel, some call it. A few decades ago, metalsmiths got together with the Secret Keepers to figure out a more efficient way to do things. Combined, the Secret Keepers’ alchemy and the smiths’ metallurgical knowledge produced some scary results. Metals stronger and harder than steel, yet lighter than copper. Metals that can catch fire but don’t burn your hand.” Master Lorilain shook her head. “Some say they discovered the secrets of the ancient Serenii. Whatever happened, they found a way to increase their production of better-quality steel than the rest of Einan.”

  “So why not use that?”

  “Sure, if you’ve got a few hundred thousand imperials to spare.” Master Lorilain gave a harsh laugh. “They figured out how to produce more of the better-quality steel, but that doesn’t mean they’ll just give it away. You’ll pay more for those steel plates than you will for gold or silver. Odarian steel’s harder to get your hands on, too. Only sold to those with a ‘Lord’ stuck to their name. Even if you used all the Night Guild’s connections”—her eyes grew as hard and sharp as the axes hanging on the wall—“you’d only get a score of sheets here before the end of the year. Odarians are bloody stingy with their resources.”

  Ilanna’s heart sank. “So you’re telling me it’s impossible.”

  “Not quite, but the next closest thing.” The smith turned back to the blueprints. “The fact that these plans call for Odarian steel means you’re dealing with something big—something I prob’ly want no part of. The last thing I want is to call attention to myself by doing anything of this nature.”

  Ilanna opened her mouth to speak, but the smith didn’t stop.

  “That being said, I’m pretty sure I know why you brought this to me.” She pointed at Jarl. “This one’s not sure he’s got the chops to build this monster of a vault door. That about right?”

  Jarl nodded.

  Master Lorilain drummed her fingers on the table. “Here’s what the Night Guild’s gold’ll get you.” She held up two fingers. “I’ll build your vault door. Judging by these plans, it’s a much simpler task, though one that’ll take me a good few weeks of work. We can make it out of high-carbon Voramian steel. Not a whole lot cheaper than Odarian steel—we’ll just need a whole lot less of it.”