"The payment stub for the necklace stolen from Lord Ulimar's mansion," Bryden said. "When I confronted you, you gave it to me."
"I remember. You didn't believe that Master Hawk had given me permission to steal from Lord Ulimar."
Bryden nodded. "I checked the list, as I told you I would. Sure enough, Lord Ulimar's name wasn't on it. Funny thing, though, I could swear his name was there a few days before. And when I saw the list again at your trial, there it was again."
Ilanna's eyes flew wide. "You mean--?"
"Someone created a false list," Bryden confirmed. "Such a perfect replica that I couldn't tell it apart from the real one."
Ilanna digested the information. The forger had to be a true master to deceive the persnickety accountant.
"I'd had Filch send copies of every pay stub he gave you to me. The other two, for Lord Graves and Count Drusus, never passed my desk. Either he failed to give it to me…"
"Or I never brought him those items," Ilanna growled.
"Granted, I wouldn’t put it past you to threaten him if he told me, but Filch knows better than to keep a secret. It would take either a holy fear or an unholy amount of gold to make him lie. And once again, you're too smart to take stolen items to Filch to fence." Bryden looked clearly displeased to be complimenting her.
"So you believe I'm innocent?" she asked.
Bryden snorted. "Not for a minute!" His lip curled upward. "I've no doubt you killed that Bloodbear—and good riddance, says I—or that you've hidden more than a few copper bits from the Guild. Your charming personality alone is enough to make me want to leave you to the Sanction."
"But?" A grin twitched Ilanna's lips.
Bryden sighed. "But the someone who set you up—who set the both of us up—is likely the same person or persons who brought the Bloody Hand down on us. And I'd take a brash, headstrong, irreverent, little prick over a mob of bloodthirsty Voramians any day of the week."
He drew a lockpick from within his clothes. Within seconds, the manacles fell free of her wrists.
Ilanna groaned and slumped, pain flaring in her shoulder.
"That looks bad," Bryden said in a flat voice.
Ilanna snarled. "You think?" She clutched her arm to her chest.
"Give it here."
Ilanna narrowed her eyes. "Answer me this first. Where were you when the Bloody Hand attacked?"
Bryden's expression darkened. "Around."
Ilanna studied him. Shame burned in his gaze. "You hid, didn't you?"
Bryden dropped his eyes. "Master Hawk sent me to hide. Didn't want me to get hurt." He motioned to his leg. "I can't fight like this, so he told me to do what he'd trained me to do and hide."
Ilanna nodded. "Sounds like him." She had known few men in the Guild like Master Hawk. He had actually cared for the Journeymen and apprentices in his House. Beneath his gruff, aloof exterior, he had been the closest thing to a father she'd had. Sorrow burned in her gut. She had realized it too late.
She cried out as Bryden jerked her arm, and the shoulder slipped back into its socket.
"Hey!" The Bloodbear's voice echoed through the door, and a key rattled in the lock. "Don't you go harming the—"
Ilanna was moving before he entered. She seized the door with her uninjured arm and slammed it into his head. Hard wood, driven by the weight of the door and the force of her fury, crunched into flesh and bone. The Bloodbear crumpled, his body flinging the door wide.
"Go!" Bryden drew her bracer from within his robes. "You've got a minute, maybe two until you're discovered. Make the most of it." He produced a dagger. "You're the only one who can save the Guild now." Gritting his teeth, he slammed the pommel into his forehead.
She didn't wait to watch him collapse. Without hesitation, she turned, scooped up the Bloodbear's cudgel, and fled down the tunnel.
Chapter Twelve
Ilanna's bare feet pounded over the hard-packed earth of the Night Guild tunnels. Her shoulders tightened at every intersection, every adjoining tunnel. At any moment, she expected to hear a cry or a shout from behind her. Anyone who spotted her would recognize her and raise the alarm.
She ignored the passageway leading to House Hawk. That would be the first place her pursuers would search for her. Instead, she turned toward the Guild Master's quarters. Master Gold's office and private chambers stood at the heart of the network of tunnels, on neutral territory. This was done to remind the Guild Master that he owed no allegiance to any House, but to the Night Guild at large. The cell where she'd been held was less than a hundred paces from the entrance to Master Gold's chambers.
As she sprinted the remaining distance to Master Gold's door, three figures turned into the tunnel ahead of her. She didn't slow her pace, but charged the men in the orange-trimmed robes of House Fox. She rushed the middle figure first and slammed the club into the side of his head, dropping him to the ground. Before the other two could cry out, she leapt back.
"Wait!" she hissed.
Joost's eyes widened at the sight of her. "Ilanna?"
Veslund's mouth hung open. He took a moment longer to recover. "W-What are ye doing?"
"What does it look like?" She kept a wary eye on their hands.
Veslund managed a stutter. "B-But ye’re supposed to be—"
"Locked up for crimes I didn't commit? I'm innocent, Ves." She turned her eye on Joost. "You have to believe me!"
The two Foxes' faces darkened. "We were there at your trial, Ilanna. You were convicted."
"After all that time we worked together, do you think I would ever be so sloppy as to leave evidence to incriminate myself? It was all too neat, too perfect." She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. "I can't stay. I have to get out of here before—"
Enraged shouts rang out in the tunnel behind her. The Bloodbears had discovered her absence.
"Decision time, lads." She tightened her grip on the cudgel. "Let me go, and I swear on my life you will be rewarded."
Joost's face scrunched up. "You don't look in a position to—"
Veslund smacked the back of the slender man's head. "Shut it, Joost." He stepped aside. "For old times’ sake, and because ye’ve made us the richest men in the Guild."
"Thank you!" She made to rush past, but Veslund caught her arm.
"Ye know they're going to send us after ye, right?"
She nodded.
"Next time, we'll have to do our duty." The bearded Fox shook his shaggy head. "Even if it means bringing ye in."
"So be it." She glanced down at the unconscious Fox.
Veslund waved her away. "Don't worry about it. We'll give ye a few minutes to run."
"Take care of yourselves, eh? With the Bloody Hand in charge, things are going to get bad."
She inclined her head to the two Foxes and she sprinted down the tunnels. Master Gold's door stood ajar. She rushed through the antechamber—the room where Journeyman Entar had once held court—and burst into the office. Blood still stained the rug where Master Gold's body had lain.
Ilanna didn't pause in her flight. She raced across the room and reached for the golden figurine of a hawk. She slithered through the hidden door and, triggering the re-locking mechanism, reached for the alchemical lamp hanging on the wall. Switching on the lamp, she rushed down the tunnel. Master Gold had told her it intersected with the sewer tunnels beneath the city. The stench hit her before she'd gone fifty paces.
For the first time, she questioned her decision to escape via the underground tunnel system. Both the Foxes and the Hounds knew the ways far better than she. The few Hawks not wounded in the skirmish with the Bloody Hand would have no chance of catching her on the Hawk's Highway. But on the rooftops, she would be visible to anyone in the city below. No, her instinct had been correct. The chance of the Foxes or Hounds finding her underground was far lower than high above the city.
Her pursuers—no doubt the Bloodbears, who would enlist the help of the Hounds and Foxes, and perhaps even the Grubbers—would search House Hawk first
. After a thorough search of the Hawk's Highway, they would flood the sewer system in search of her. Errik wouldn't say anything about her house near Old Town Market, but Allon might. She had to reach her home without being caught.
She grimaced as something slimy squelched under her bare feet. The reek of ordure twisted her stomach, but she forced herself to wade deeper into the filthy water. She had to move quickly to get out of the tunnels before her pursuers blocked her escape.
Voices rang out in the tunnels to her left. She headed right—away from her destination, but she knew another way around. A light shone at the next intersection, forcing her to backtrack.
Damn it! How had they gotten into the tunnels so quickly?
She dimmed the beam of her alchemical lamp and turned down the next tunnel, pressing her body into the shadows of a crumbling section of wall. The lights grew brighter, the voices echoing louder.
"Blast this," came the rumbling voice of a man. "What in the frozen hell d'you do to get us stuck down here?"
Ilanna didn't catch the response.
"You idiot!" A smack of a fist striking flesh resounded. "We had the cushiest assignment in the city, and you had to go and piss off the Captain. And I just got these boots!"
Ilanna's heart sank. Arbitors! The Masters of House Fox and Hound had complained that the Duke's men had flooded the tunnels. Not only did she have to evade the men the Guild would inevitably send after her, but she had to watch out for the blue-clad Arbitors in their shining silver breastplates.
She slipped down the tunnel, hugging the wall to avoid the light spilling from the Arbitors' oil lanterns. She bit back a cry as a sharp rock dug into her heel. Any sound, and the Duke's men would find her.
She took stock of her situation: barefooted, wearing only undergarments, with little more than a few knives and a cudgel. And Ethen's sling. The loop of leather remained wrapped around her wrist; the Bloodbears hadn't thought to take it from her. No bullets, though. She needed to get her hands on some coins, and some clothing and boots. She would draw far too much attention running around Praamis half-naked.
Gritting her teeth, she slid down another passage. The detour would take her far out of the way but, hopefully, lead her around the Arbitors. If they'd gotten this far into the sewer system, who knew how many men they had combing the tunnels?
The dim light of the alchemical lantern illuminated the holes in the sewer walls, floors, and ceiling, but not the little pebbles and debris underfoot. It seemed she managed to step on every sharp rock or crumbling section of tunnel. Every fresh, stabbing pain sent worry racing through her—more than once, Journeyman Tyman had pontificated about the deadly infections that set in when fecal matter got into open wounds. She didn't waste time wishing for boots, but concentrated on navigating through the dry, unused passages.
She flattened herself against the wall as the sound of booted feet grew louder. At the end of the tunnel, a trio of Arbitors came into view. The light of their torches glinted off their silver breastplates and conical helmets.
Taking a deep breath, she peered around the corner. Instead of moving on, they had taken up position at an intersection forty paces away—the same intersection she needed to go through. She cursed inwardly.
Now what?
She had one option: return the way she'd come and find another way around.
She'd gone just five steps and rounded a bend in the passage when more light appeared at the opposite end of the tunnel. It wasn't the flickering light of torches, but the steady, bright, slightly blue-colored beam of an alchemical lamp.
The Night Guild had found her.
Not yet, you haven't!
With speed borne of desperation, Ilanna raced toward the lamplight. Twenty paces away, a crevice in the tunnel wall—little more than a section of crumbled stone and caved-in earth—offered the only hiding place. Her heart thundered as the light drew closer and the sounds of her pursuers grew louder. Any second now, the men hunting her would round the corner and cut off her escape.
At the final instant, Ilanna threw herself into the crevice, ignoring the stones scraping her feet, and ducked out of sight. She pressed her face and body against the soft dirt. The smell of damp earth filled her nostrils as she forced herself to take calm, measured breaths.
A deep, grumbling voice grew louder. "…don't know why we got stuck with this duty."
She tensed as light seeped into her hiding place. The men hunting her would soon stand right outside her hiding place. If they thought to look in the crevice…
"’Twas you Bloodbears in charge of keepin' her locked up," came another voice, this one pitched higher and with just a note of disdain. "Somehow, the little slip of a girl broke out of—"
"I've had just enough of your lip, Fox!" the first voice came again, this time heavy with anger. "It was the Keeper-damned Hawk's fault and you know it. He's the one stupid enough to bring a dagger anywhere near that bitch." The lantern gave a loud clank, and the light moved away.
"Take it easy, Rynk," a third man spoke. "You can defend your House's honor after Tarrin shows us the way out of here."
"I ain't talkin' to you, Grubber." Disdain echoed in Rynk's voice. "This is between the Fox and me."
"Let me…go." The second man, Tarrin, spoke in a strained, almost choked voice. "Unless you…want to spend the…rest of the day…down here."
"Pah!" Rynk snarled.
Tarrin gasped and drew in several deep, panting breaths. "Rot in hell, Rynk," he snarled.
"You first, Fox!" Rynk responded.
Ilanna didn't need to peer out of her hiding place to picture the scene. Rynk, a Bloodbear, wouldn't be pleased at his assignment of combing the stinking sewers. Like any member of his House, he'd unleash his temper on anyone weaker than him. Given his size—he towered at least a head taller than she, and had broader shoulders than most Bloodbears—that meant everyone.
The beam of light once more invaded her hiding place, reaching bright fingers that crept up her filthy feet and the legs of her breeches. Every muscle tensed, and she tightened her grip on the club despite the pain in her hands. Against the Fox and Grubber alone, she'd have a chance. Rynk's presence made it nearly impossible to fight her way past.
That wouldn't stop her from trying. They won't take me without a fight.
The light had reached her knees when a loud "Hey!" echoed down the tunnels.
"You there!" the voice came again. "Stop where you are!" The command had the imperious tone of a man accustomed to being obeyed.
"Get stuffed, Arbitor bastard!" Rynk snarled.
Instantly, the lantern light retreated from her hiding place. The sound of booted feet grew louder, the flickering torchlight brightening the crevice for a moment before racing past. Heart thundering in her chest, Ilanna took deep breaths and stayed perfectly still. Finally, when the tunnels had fallen silent, she risked a glance out of the crevice.
No sign of the Arbitors or the Guild hunting her.
A tremor shook her hands. She blew out her cheeks. That was too bloody close.
Her legs trembled as she padded up the tunnel toward the now-empty intersection. She had to move fast before the Arbitors returned. Turning down a side passage, she sprinted through the darkness, trying desperately to remember the route that would lead her to freedom.
Freedom, what a cruel word.
She'd come so close to being free—free of the Night Guild, of her life of crime, of the dangers that threatened from all sides. All that had been torn away from her in a matter of days. Now, all she could do was escape the certain death that awaited her at the hands of the Guild. Her fate at the Duke's hands wouldn't be much better.
Yet she wouldn't lie down and die—that wasn't her way. She would fight, even when the odds were stacked against her and she could see no hope of success. She'd overcome insurmountable obstacles before. She would continue fighting—fighting to survive, to find the truth of who had betrayed the Guild and Praamis—until her last breath.
Sh
e had no idea where to start her hunt for the real culprit, but that was a worry for later. For now, she had to focus on escape, on survival. With the Guild hunting her, there was only one place she could feel truly safe.
* * *
Every muscle in Ilanna's body ached. She had no idea how long she'd run, but it had to have been hours trying to find her way through the tunnels. Twice, she'd nearly been caught by the Arbitors swarming through the sewer system. Every time she thought she had managed to break away from her pursuers, she ran into another obstacle: a dead end, an Arbitor patrol, or a section of sewer filled with knee-deep refuse.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she finally caught a glimpse of the exit from the sewers. She crouched by the metal grate and peered into the alley. Empty. Darkness hung like a thick blanket over the city. Ilanna had no need for the gods, but she found herself shooting up a prayer of thanks to the Mistress, goddess of good fortune. The shadows of night would conceal her movements.
She climbed out of the sewers and slipped into the streets near Old Town Market…or the scorched wreckage where the marketplace had once stood. The blackened remains of the marketplace sent a shiver down her spine. A week ago, thousands of people, animals, and carts had flowed through the now-silent streets. What had once been bright colors and life had become desolate and dark. Canvas stall covers flapped in the chill evening breeze, and burned wooden walls groaned beneath the burden of tiles cracked by the impossible heat of alchemical fire.
Once, she had walked the marketplace hand in hand with her mother. She had learned to steal in these very streets. Ria had brought her son here. She had dreamed of the day she would join them, and they would stroll through the marketplace free of all burdens and responsibilities.
Free. The word hit her like a blow to the stomach. She had been a heartbeat from the perfect life. Then the Bloody Hand burned it to the ground. They had murdered her son and Ria. They had invaded her home in House Hawk and slaughtered Master Hawk and Jarl, the closest things to family she had left. As she slunk through the burnt husk of the life she'd hoped to have and stared at the torched skeleton of her house, everything became perfectly clear.
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