She sprinted across the lawn, vaulted the stone walkway, and slid into the shadows of the Black Spire. Her steps led not toward the tower itself, but along the base, toward the mansion of Duke Phonnis.
She'd pored over the blueprints stored in the Grand Reckoner's hidden vault. The Duke relied too heavily on the high wall around his property and the presence of his Arbitors as deterrence. She'd gotten through the wall easily. The Black Spire would conceal her from the passing patrols. The sprawling mansion had more than a few blind spots and weaknesses that a clever thief could use to gain entrance. The architectural drawings had shown her a direct path to the Duke's bedroom.
She had come to deliver two messages to the Duke. One lay folded in her pouch, a parchment upon which she had written, I have what you want. Tomorrow night we move. The other would be clear to the Duke when he realized how the note had come to his bedside table.
Duke Phonnis needed to understand what would happen to him if he tried to betray her. The look in his eyes had told her that he intended to do just that. She didn't know how or when—definitely after she revealed the location of the Night Guild—but Duke Phonnis wanted her dead. The evidence she'd found in the Coin Counter's Temple would assure her safety. She had to live long enough to use it. She had a plan on what to do, but that plan would only work if she evaded the Duke's clutches.
The note's presence would make it clear to the Duke she could reach him at any time. She believed it would be enough to make the Duke hesitate to clap her in irons. The skull-headed dagger with its ruby eyes would add emphasis. Duke Phonnis would pay if he came after her.
Chapter Nineteen
Ilanna crept through the darkness of the sewer tunnels beneath Praamis. Her shuttered lamp, a mundane oil lamp rather than the beamers used by the Night Guild, cast a pitiful arc of light on the ground ahead. She didn't mind. She had spent much of her life in darkness—from the bunk room of the tyros to her room in House Hawk. She only needed the light to see the markings that guided her to her destination.
She'd come this way just once, but years spent memorizing the rooftop ways around the city had trained her memory well. She moved with confidence in her step. Her soft-soled boots made little sound on the hard stone floors. She'd reached the drier sections of the sewer system. A few more minutes, and she'd find the hidden entrance to Master Gold's office.
The sound of booted feet echoed in the tunnels around her. More than once, she had to stop, shutter the lamp, and duck down side passages as Foxes, Hounds, and their Bloody Hand minders trooped past. The Voramians made little effort to be silent. The way they strode through the tunnels bespoke their arrogance. In their minds, they had all but conquered the Night Guild. Praamis belonged to them.
Not if I can help it.
The logical part of her mind knew her actions went well beyond the realm of folly. Suicide, more like. With hundreds of Bloody Hand thugs occupying the Night Guild, how could she consider entering those tunnels? The Voramians would imprison her on the spot. Probably kill her. She doubted her fellow Journeymen would hesitate to raise the alarm if they recognized her.
She had to take the risk. The Duke's Arbitors would be flooding the tunnels in a few hours. She needed to save as many of the Night Guild as she could.
Ilanna's gut clenched as the hidden door to Master Gold's office slid open without a sound. She tensed, uncertain of what to expect. If Rhynd had taken up residence in the Guild Master's office, she would have a fight—one she had little hope of winning.
Relief flooded her. The office stood empty and silent. Slipping into the office, she pressed the trigger that sent the shelf sliding back into place. She adjusted her grey-trimmed Grubber cloak and pulled the slouch cap lower. The ratty hat hid her long hair, and the mud and ash she'd slathered over her face concealed her features. She doubted anyone but her closest friends would recognize her.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to Master Gold's office and walked into the waiting room beyond. Empty as well. She'd entered during the busiest time of day, when most of the Journeymen and apprentices would be out on the streets. No doubt their Bloody Hand minders went along to keep an eye out for her.
She chuckled. If only they knew where I really am.
Tension tightened her shoulders as she reached the first intersection and ran into three Journeymen in red-trimmed Bloodbear robes. Her hand tightened on the dagger hidden by her voluminous sleeve. She could take three Bloodbears, but before they raised an alarm? If their bodies were discovered, there would be no way—
The huge thugs strode past without sparing her a second glance. As she'd hoped. The robes of House Grubber offered her a sort of invisibility. Few from the other Houses paid attention to the Grubbers, perceiving them as the cast-offs and dregs of the Night Guild. That suited her nicely.
The double doors of House Serpent loomed at the end of the next corridor. The emerald eyes of the twin serpents stared at her with menace, the reptilian jaws open, fangs poised to strike. The two thugs standing guard took little notice of the intricate patterns, but they stepped forward to stop her.
"No one enters House Serpent, boy," one said. "Rhynd's orders."
"'Pologies, sirs." Ilanna pitched her voice as low as she could, adding the lilting accent common among those born outside the Praamian Wall. "I gots a message f'r the Master Serpent. Some job as needs doin'." She waved a piece of parchment before the thug's nose.
The man took it and studied the writing. "Looks like a lot of scribbles to me."
Ilanna shrugged. "Don't know nothin' 'bout that. Never been much for readin'. But the Serpents' got their own codes, I hear. Protects the marks, they say."
The Bloody Hand thug looked to his companion. "What do you think, Cloon?"
Cloon shook his head. "Rhynd says no one gets in, Augie. So no one gets in."
"Please!" Ilanna whined. "Man who hands me the note, he says I get paid when I put it in the Master Serpent's hand." She fumbled for the parchment. "Less'n you got the silver drake I was promised, you gots to let me in." Her shoulders slumped. "I ain't et nothin' all day. I need this to pay my way, else they'll make me sleep in the streets."
Cloon set his jaw. "Sorry, kid. We've our orders."
Ilanna turned away, then cast a glance back over her shoulders. "What if I gives you half?" She scrunched her face. "Half the coin, f'r the two o' you to share. And me with the first hot meal I had in days."
Cloon's expression remained stubborn, but greed glinted in Augie's eyes. "Half a drake?"
Ilanna nodded. "I swears!"
Augie turned to his comrade. "Come on, Cloon. What's the worst a Grubber's gonna do? Scrawny thing like that."
Cloon shook his head. "Orders from Rhynd, Augie. You know that."
"How's he gonna know?" Augie spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "He ain't here, is he now?" Cloon opened his mouth to reply, but Augie rubbed his fingers together. "Half drake'll buy us a nice skin of wine. That oughta be worth letting him in, eh?"
Cloon sighed and stepped aside. "You've one minute, boy." He grabbed Ilanna's collar. "And you'd better bring that half-drake or by the Apprentice I'll give your filthy hide a beatin'!"
Ilanna mumbled a terrified-sounding answer and scurried through the door to House Serpent.
A gloomy pall hung over the Viper-Pit. The absence of sunlight meant a perpetual chill stalked the halls of House Serpent. Yet the low-ceilinged chamber seemed darker, the air more oppressive than usual. The room stood empty and silent, save for the eerie trickle of water leaking from the obsidian walls.
Ilanna hurried toward the tunnel that led to Master Serpent's office. She knocked at the heavy door.
"Enter," came the tired voice.
Errik sat at the small table that had belonged to the former Master Serpent. Dark bags hung beneath his red-rimmed eyes, making his pale face appear pinched and drawn. He turned a heavy-lidded gaze to her. "Yes?"
She pressed a finger to her lips and shut the door. "Errik," she hissed
, "it's me."
Errik's eyes narrowed, then flew wide. "Ilanna?" His jaw dropped, and he struggled to speak. "Are you insane? W-What are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you, too." She grinned. "I've come to warn you."
"Warn me?" Confusion furrowed his brow.
"Something's going to happen soon. Tomorrow night, or the next. I can't tell you what or precisely when, but I need you to be ready."
"To do what?"
"To fight!" Anger tinged Ilanna's voice. "To drive the Bloody Hand from our home."
The light in Errik's eyes faded. "There's no way we can do it. There are too few of us left to—"
"I'm bringing help."
Errik's eyebrows shot up. "What? Who? From where?"
"I can't tell you." She grimaced. "But you have to make sure everyone is ready to move."
"Everyone who?" Errik's voice held a tone of despondence. "The Bloody Hand is running the few remaining Hawks, Serpents, and Scorpions ragged. The other Houses are working with them. I can't come up with more than twenty men who can swing a sword."
"Then make sure they're armed and ready. They'll know when the time comes."
Errik frowned. "If we do, they'll kill us all."
Ilanna shook her head. "The bastards will be too busy fighting for their lives. But with you at their backs, we can cut them down and take back the tunnels."
"Who is we?" The Serpent's eyes narrowed. "Who are you bringing?"
Ilanna drew in a deep breath. She couldn't bring herself to tell Errik what she'd done.
"Enough men to drive out the Bloody Hand," she said simply. "Just trust me, please."
Errik gave her a sad smile. "You've never let me down. No reason to think you will now."
A lump rose in Ilanna's throat. She'd first met Errik during the months spent training under Master Velvet. He had been Two, then. He had stood up to Sabat, the tyro known as Twelve, for her. He had helped prepare her for her Undertaking, and had come to her rescue when she fell from the Black Spire. He'd gone with her to Voramis to break into the Secret Keepers’ temple, had saved her life many times over. Because of him, she had succeeded at stealing Lady Auslan's golden sarcophagus. She owed her life to him.
She swallowed. "Any luck finding the traitor?"
Anger clouded Errik's eyes. "No. Too many of the Hounds, Foxes, and Bloodbears are helping the Bloody Hand. Not out of fear, but they seem to genuinely want the gods-damned Voramians here. It could be any of them."
Ilanna sighed. "Keep looking."
"Of course."
"I've got to go. The thugs outside gave me a minute to deliver a message to you."
"Consider it delivered." Grim determination filled the Serpent's eyes. "We'll be ready."
Ilanna turned toward the door, then stopped. "One last thing. Things are about to get bloody. I know you can fight, but I need you to make me a promise."
"Promise?"
Ilanna nodded. "You see an Arbitor or a Praamian Guard down here, you drop your sword and surrender."
Errik's eyes flew wide, and he bolted upright. "What? What did you do, Ilanna?"
"What I had to." She held his gaze, unflinching. "Promise! It's the only way you get out of this alive."
Errik's jaw muscles worked. For a long moment, he stared at her, anger filling his gaze. He blew out his breath. "So be it."
The tension drained from Ilanna's shoulders. "Make sure everyone knows. Fight the Bloody Hand to the last man, but not the Praamian Guards or the Arbitors. Surrender, and they live."
Errik gave a curt nod.
Relief flooded her. "See you soon, Master Serpent."
The Serpent gave her a sad nod and dropped into his chair.
She left without glancing back. She had fulfilled her purpose. She had done what she could to save her friends. It didn't matter that they'd see her as a traitor, the one who'd betrayed them to the Duke. She could live with their hatred knowing they'd survived.
Cloon stopped her at the door to House Serpent. "Forgettin’ somethin’, aint'cha?"
Ilanna plastered a disappointed expression and let her shoulders droop. Without a word, she drew a silver drake from her robes.
Cloon snatched it.
"But you said half!" she protested.
"Ain't got change, now do you?" the Voramian thug sneered.
"Please, sir! I needs to eat."
Cloon shoved her hard. "Then get out into the city and do your damned job!" He spat at her. "Filthy street rat."
Pretending to weep, Ilanna rushed away from House Serpent. Her plan had worked thus far. She just had to reach Master Gold's office. With any luck, the room would still be empty and she could slip out the secret passage. By sundown, she would be ready for her meeting with the Duke.
The thought of that encounter sent an uneasy tremor through her stomach. The Duke had made his feelings for her plain. Only his desire to maintain law and order in Praamis prevented him from arresting and executing her on sight. He needed to eliminate the Bloody Hand almost as much as she, but that didn't make them friends, partners, or allies.
One problem at a time. First we deal with the Bloody Hand. She could predict the Duke's actions. She had no way to predict the outcome of a battle between the Bloody Hand and the Duke's Arbitors and Praamian Guard.
She contemplated visiting House Hawk to retrieve her weapons, but discarded the idea. Her chances of being recognized grew with every moment spent in the tunnels. If even one Journeyman looked too closely, her disguise would be—
"Ilanna? Is that you?"
Chapter Twenty
Ilanna's heart stopped. She mumbled something and tried to duck away, but a hand gripped her shoulder.
"Ilanna?" Allon hissed. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"
Ilanna tore free of his grasp. "Leaving."
"Good," he snapped. "You have to leave before…"
He trailed off as a trio of Bloody Hand thugs strode toward them. Allon nodded a greeting, and Ilanna knuckled her forehead to hide her face. The Voramians didn't pause, but pushed past, knocking her aside.
When the thugs disappeared around a corner, Allon whirled on her, eyes blazing. "You've the Bloody Hand and the whole damned Night Guild hunting for you, and you come here? Are you insane?"
"I had to come." Ilanna shook off his hand. "And now I need to leave."
She adjusted her clothing and cap and hurried toward Master Gold's office. Allon's footsteps sounded behind her. "Wait!" he called in a loud whisper. "You're going the wrong way."
Ilanna ignored him. He couldn't know about the hidden door in Master Gold's office.
She rounded the corner and came face to face with the largest man she'd ever seen. She barely reached the height of his chest. His arms looked thicker than her legs, heavily banded with muscle and covered in tattoos. The breadth of his shoulders far surpassed even Jarl's or Master Lorilain, the blacksmith. A cruel intensity burned in the gaze he turned on her. "And who might you be?"
Ilanna's tongue refused to form words. So this is Rhynd.
Her eyes fell on the man beside Rhynd. He wore richer garments and sported a perfectly trimmed goatee. Fear spiked Ilanna's pulse. She recognized the man—Blinton had presented the Bloody Hand's offer of partnership to the entire Night Guild. Would he recognize her as the Journeyman who had spoken scornfully?
"I-I…" she stammered, her mind racing. What could she say? "F-Forgive me, sir, just got turned around in the passages, is all." She spoke barely above a mumble, slouching to conceal her features.
Rhynd's face creased into a sneer. "As incompetent as the rest of your lot!"
Blinton chuckled. "If every one of them's this idiotic, we really are doing them a favor taking over."
Rhynd nodded. "Aye." He stepped toward Ilanna and seized her arm in one massive fist. "You'd never survive a day in the Bloody Hand, boy. Lout like you would be dead in an hour on the streets of Voramis." His face hardened. "But you'll learn. You'll learn what it means to be hard, to survive a
t any cost."
His blow caught her by surprise. The back of his hand cracked across her face—he hardly put effort into it, yet his massive size and strength made it feel like a brick wall slammed into her. Ilanna staggered and fell against the tunnel wall. She clutched her face, not out of pain, but to hide her fury and to ensure her disguise remained securely in place.
"Get up, boy!" Rhynd snarled, looming over her. "Stand and take your lessons like a man." His hand reached for her again.
"Hobber, there you are!" Allon's voice came to her rescue.
Rhynd glanced toward the Hound, who was hurrying down the tunnel toward her.
"Hobber, you nitwit, stop wasting my time!" He strode around Rhynd and, seizing her collar, dragged her upright. "Damned apprentices! I send you to House Fox on one simple errand, and somehow you end up here? You're as incompetent as Master Septin warned me."
Rhynd raised a bushy eyebrow. "Working with a Grubber, Master Hound?" He used the title with the sort of respect a nobleman showed the boy responsible for emptying chamber pots.
Allon shook his head. "Not much choice. My Hounds are out running the streets looking for Journeyman Ilanna." He clouted the back of her head. "Looks like I'm stuck with the dreck of the Night Guild. Foolish boy keeps getting turned around. And him an apprentice for five years now!"
Ilanna knew Allon well enough to recognize the anxiety in his words. The huge Voramian made Allon nervous. And for good reason, given what he'd done. The Night Guild had lost a dozen Journeymen so Rhynd could send a message. She had little doubt more would die before the Bloody Hand cemented its power in Praamis.
"Let's go, boy." Allon dragged her away.
Rhynd's huge bulk blocked their retreat. "My time in the Bloody Hand has taught me one thing." A dagger appeared in his huge hand. "Lackwits like this never get smarter. Best be rid of them, use the coin they'd cost you on something more worthwhile."
Allon's eyes darted to Rhynd's blade. "H-He's young yet. He'll learn." He whirled on Ilanna. "Even if I have to pound it into him." His backhanded blow caught Ilanna on the same cheek Rhynd had struck. She gave a weak cry, and another when Allon followed it up with a kick to her rump.
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