Queen of Thieves Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  Ilanna's heart sank. "Is there nothing left?"

  Bryden shook his head. "Not a copper bit."

  "I don't give a damn about the gold right now, Bryden. I need weapons, equipment, clothing!" She motioned to her thin tunic. "I can't go around Praamis looking like this!"

  Bryden's eyes glided over her form with disinterest. He jerked his head toward Master Hawk's office. "I've managed to scrounge a few things they missed. Might be you find something there."

  Ilanna pushed past him and hurried to the House Master's chambers. Every door she passed had received the same treatment as hers. The Arbitors and Praamian Guards had destroyed everything they did not take.

  The Duke means business. He wants to see the Night Guild gone forever. He had to know he didn't get all of us, so he's making it impossible for us to continue. He hadn't counted on her escaping, or on the item she'd taken from his private vault. Your time will come, Duke Phonnis.

  She rummaged through the items piled on Master Hawk's broad desk. A pair of leather gloves lay among the lot, along with soft-soled boots she recognized as Prynn's. They and the set of dark grey robes she chose were a few sizes too large, but she pulled them on nonetheless. She completed her ensemble with a set of worn lockpicks, two pairs of chipped quickfire globes, and a hooded cloak that was more holes than cloth.

  Bryden's shuffling step sounded in the tunnel behind her. "What are you going to do?"

  "Jarl and the rest of the Night Guild stand trial before the Duke tomorrow."

  "And what?" Bryden's lip curled into a sneer. "You think you're going to break them out of the Royal Dungeons?"

  Ilanna let his scorn roll off her back. "No. I'm going after Rhynd first."

  Bryden's eyes flew wide. "What?"

  Ilanna set her jaw. "He fled when the Duke's men raided the tunnels. He's hiding somewhere in Praamis, with Errik, Darreth, and the rest of my crew."

  A furrow deepened Bryden's brow. "He expects you to come after him?"

  "Why else would he take those specific people? It's the only reason I can think of that makes any kind of sense. The Bloody Hand eliminated all the House Masters and Master Gold. They wanted me locked up so they could turn me over to the Duke. You ruined their plans when you set me free. They set the entire Night Guild and Bloody Hand to hunt me down. They see me as a threat to their plans." She clenched her fists. "And I'm going to damned well prove them right!"

  Bryden inclined his head. "I'll give you that much. But how did Rhynd know to take them?"

  Ilanna snarled. "The traitor, whoever they are, had to have told him. I take it you've had no luck finding out who betrayed the Night Guild?"

  Bryden winced. "Nothing. But look around you." He motioned to the room, as ransacked as her quarters. "Not much of a chance I'll find out anything no? As you can see, there aren't a lot of people to ask. At least, not without going to the Royal Dungeons and talking to the Journeymen and apprentices in their cells."

  Ilanna's anger flared at the accusation written in his eyes. He blamed her for what had happened. And he wasn't wrong. "You knew what you were doing when you let me out of that cell, Bryden. You knew I'd do whatever was necessary."

  "Never this!" he growled. "I never dreamed you'd be foolish enough to go to the Duke. Worse, to bring the Arbitors and Praamian Guard to our front door."

  "And you'd choose the Bloody Hand—?"

  "Over watching every Journeymen and apprentice die at the Duke's hands?" he demanded. "You're Keeper-damned right I would!"

  "They're not going to die." Ilanna's voice grew hard and cold. "I've a plan to set them free. But I can't do anything until I've dealt with Rhynd and gotten the others back."

  "The others?" Bryden sneered. "Or are you simply hunting Rhynd because he's taken the man who's warmed your bed these last months?"

  The words struck Ilanna like a blow to her gut. "What?"

  Disdain flashed in Bryden's eyes. "Allon, the Hound." He shook his head. "Sleeping your way into Master Hawk's graces was a clever ploy, but surely you--"

  "You knew?" Shock sent Ilanna's voice an octave higher. She'd believed her relationship with Allon a secret.

  Bryden snorted. "Of course I knew." His expression turned mocking. "Hells, the whole House knew, along with any Journeyman in the Night Guild with enough sense to wipe their arses after taking a shite."

  "How?" She'd insisted Allon visit her when most of the Hawks were out on the streets.

  "Please!" Bryden rolled his eyes. "The way he was always hanging around House Hawk, even when you were out, like a puppy dog waiting for his master to get home. Begging Denber to teach him our Hawk tricks. We all knew he just wanted an excuse to stay in the House until you returned, then he'd slip off to your room."

  Anger burned in Ilanna's gut. To think everyone knew about her and Allon…

  "Tell me I'm wrong," Bryden growled. "Tell me you're not going after Rhynd first because he has Allon."

  "You're wrong." Ilanna spoke in a flat, cold voice. "Allon means nothing to me. Never has."

  Bryden arched an eyebrow. She met his gaze without hesitation. She had nothing to hide. From the beginning, she'd known she was simply using Allon.

  "So why, then?" the Hawk asked. "Hundreds of your fellow Journeymen and their apprentices will hang tomorrow. Or face the Field of Mercy. You're wasting your time saving five men who—"

  "No." Ilanna cut him off with a savage chopping motion. "I'm saving the men who were loyal to me when all others in the Night Guild turned their backs." She thrust a finger at his chest. "When you turned the others against me, they remained firm and helped me. For that, they deserve my help."

  "And the others? Jarl, Moody, and the few Hawks still alive? Tyman? The Journeymen and apprentices of every other House? You'd let them hang?"

  "The Duke himself told me they'd stand trial tomorrow," she said. "I have a whole day to save them. Who knows how long the others have. Do you really think Rhynd will keep them alive if he thinks their deaths will serve him better?"

  Bryden dropped his eyes.

  "So unless you have something helpful to add, get the fiery hell out of my way!" She shouldered past him, mind racing. She had no idea where to start looking. The Bloody Hand had to have safe houses around Praamis. She'd have to scour the entire city to—

  "That's it?"

  She whirled. Bryden leaned against Master Hawk's desk, arms folded over his chest. "What?"

  The Hawk stared at her. "You're just going to walk away?"

  Ilanna stopped, her mouth hanging open. "I—"

  "You are responsible for the capture of every Journeyman and apprentice, Ilanna of House Hawk. You are the reason they stand trial tomorrow, the reason they will be hanged or drowned in the Field of Mercy. You brought the Duke's men into our homes. It is on your head to stop them from being executed. Even if that means turning yourself over to the Duke. If your death can save the lives of every man, woman, and child in the Night Guild, you will do it."

  Ilanna narrowed her eyes. "You think I would lay down my life to save any of you?" She strode toward him, her anger flaring. "You, who have stolen my life, beaten and broken me, violated my body, and forced me to serve your greed?" She pressed close to him, her voice dropping dangerously low as she glared daggers. "I earned my freedom from this life to which I was condemned so long ago. I owe the Night Guild nothing. I owe you nothing."

  She stalked away. Bryden's shuffling limp echoed in the tunnel behind her. "So you would allow hundreds to die?"

  "Perhaps I would!" Her voice rose to a shout. "There is only one person who I would save from the Duke's wrath, and I intend to. But if every other man and woman in the Night Guild dies for their crimes, I will not lose a moment of sleep."

  "And the children?" Bryden's words froze her in place. "The apprentices and tyros? They are as much a victim of their circumstances as you claim to be. If your plan fails and you can't free them in time, you would have them swing?"

  Ilanna wanted to fling his words bac
k into his face, but she couldn't. The image of Kodyn's little body dangling from a hangman's rope filled her mind. He was innocent, as she had been the day her father gave her to the Night Guild in payment of his debts. As were the tyros and younger apprentices. The Night Guild hadn't yet twisted them into hateful, cruel monsters. She didn't care if every Journeyman hung for what they'd done, but she couldn't allow innocent children to suffer.

  "I swear." Her words came out barely above a whisper.

  "What?"

  "I swear," she said in a louder voice. "I swear that I will do whatever I can to stop the Duke from executing the Night Guild."

  For long moments, Bryden stared at her through narrowed eyes. He seemed to be searching her face for something, but she kept her expression impassive. Finally, he nodded. "So be it." He jerked his head toward the Aerie. "Now get out of here. But first." From within his robes he drew a dagger. "Take this."

  Ilanna reached for it and froze. She recognized the plain, utilitarian weapon. It was the weapon given to her by Master Velvet during her days as a tyro --the one that had killed Ethen, Sabat, and Master Gold. The weapon the traitor had used against her. Bryden had taken it during her trial; why had he kept it? Perhaps a keepsake celebrating his triumph and her defeat. She'd expect nothing less from him—he was that petty.

  It didn't matter now. She needed a weapon, wherever it came from. She took the familiar dagger and slipped it into her belt. Fitting, she thought. With a nod to Bryden, she strode down the tunnel and leapt onto the Perch.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Ilanna grimaced as the Lady's Bells tolled out noon. She'd wasted too much time on her visit to the Night Guild. The image of a sand timer hung in the back of her mind. The last grain of sand would fall when the sun rose tomorrow. Eighteen hours to scour the entire city of Praamis, find Rhynd, and rescue her friends.

  One hell of a tall order!

  Ilanna had no idea where to start searching. Rhynd could be hiding anywhere in the city. She had no idea if the Bloody Hand had friends or contacts in Praamis. She had only one thing to go on: Rhynd had her friends.

  Allon had explained how the Hounds hunted their quarry. They tried to think and act like the person they tracked. She had to do the same with Rhynd.

  The huge man would stand out in crowded areas. His accent would give him away as a Voramian. He'd stay away from populated areas for fear of being spotted by someone willing to sell the information to her.

  She could rule out Old Praamis. No aristocrat in their right mind would sell to the Bloody Hand, not after what they had done in Voramis. The empty mansions of The Gardens could provide shelter, but the Arbitors and Praamian Guards prowling the streets would increase the chance of Rhynd being spotted. He'd fled the Night Guild on too short notice to have a plan in place to transport prisoners through The Gardens undetected. The Ward of Refuge was out as well: too much traffic to and from the temples.

  That just leaves the rest of the city. Ilanna ground her teeth in frustration. And everything outside the city walls, of course.

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to keep working at the problem. She'd figured out how to break into the most secure room in the city—surely she could find a Voramian thug in the city of Praamis.

  Errik would no doubt fight or try to break free. Allon as well, she suspected. She'd chosen Joost and Veslund for her crew because they were clever and resourceful; they'd try to escape as well. Rhynd would need guards to keep an eye on them. That meant he had at least two or three thugs with him, perhaps more. He'd need space to house ten to fifteen people. If he intended to hole up for a few days, he'd also need access to food, water, and supplies. He'd select a location close to a marketplace.

  Had he not ordered Old Town Market burned, Ilanna would have begun the search for him there. On the other hand, the Warehouse District gave him plenty of space to hold captives. Privacy if he intended to torture her friends. He could have supplies stockpiled against such an eventuality. The nearby Stannar River gave him a means of escape.

  Of course, the slums outside the Praamian Wall could provide easy hiding. The Praamian Guard rarely ventured beyond the city wall. Theft, murder, and all manner of vices raged rampant. Even the Bloodbears had struggled to maintain order in the filthy alleyways, shanties, and inns that filled the borghetto.

  If I was a Bloody Hand thug, which would suit my needs best?

  The anonymity of the borghettos held appeal, but a smart man would prefer to remain within the order and safety of the city. The fact that Rhynd had orchestrated the coup of the Night Guild with precision a clockmaker would envy indicated he was a smart man. He'd want access to supplies and an escape route that didn't involve narrow, winding streets clogged with detritus, human and otherwise.

  She turned her steps toward the Warehouse District. The Guild had a few contacts in the neighborhood, though she doubted she'd get much information without coin to offer. She cursed the Duke for emptying the Guild's coffers. If she hadn't met the man, hadn't seen the look in his eyes, she would have almost believed that was his real reason for invading the Night Guild. The amount of gold stored in the coffers of House Hawk alone could pay the salary of every Arbitor and Praamian Guard for a year.

  She had little doubt he would find good use for the fortune he'd taken from the Guild. Perhaps repairing the Royal Palace or hiring more men to patrol the streets. Even if she stopped Rhynd, he had to know the Bloody Hand would return. She could only hope he'd spend the gold preparing for the inevitable war.

  Anxiety pinged at the back of her mind. She had mere hours to search one of the largest and least populated areas in the city. Her chances of finding Rhynd were finer than the hairs on an infant's chest. But she had to try, for her friends' sake, and for the sake of Praamis.

  * * *

  Ilanna's anxiety blossomed into full-blown panic as the Lady's Bells rang out. She had six hours until midnight, another six until dawn. She'd scoured half the Warehouse District, hit up every contact she could think of. Still she'd come up empty-handed.

  She growled in her throat. The grains of sand in her mental sand timer moved faster now. She couldn't afford to waste time, yet it seemed like every step she took led her farther from Rhynd. Worse, her search for the Bloody Hand and her friends would move more slowly. The inspection of each warehouse would take longer and require her to descend from the rooftops to walk through each one.

  Damn it! This isn't working. She had to approach the problem from a new angle, but the “how” of it eluded her. Without gold to pay for information, she had to rely on the goodwill of her contacts. The Night Guild hadn't gone out of their way to make friends. She'd always used the Foxes, Grubbers, and Hounds as sources of information. It felt as if she strode the streets blind and deaf.

  I don't have gold, so I need to get some. She'd waste too much time trying to dig her chest out from beneath the rubble of her home. She had no idea if Filch lived or if the Bloody Hand had gotten to him. That meant she'd have to get money the old-fashioned way.

  She clambered down a drainpipe and dropped to the streets below. The Warehouse District bordered the Ward of Refuge. She only needed to find a few men with heavy purses and empty heads, and she'd have enough to pay for all the information she wanted. The thought of having to pick pockets rankled, but she had no choice. She'd spent enough time in fruitless activity.

  Tugging up her hood, she hunched her shoulders and shuffled into the main avenue. A few streets away, a company of olive-clad Praamian Guards stood watch. Ilanna cursed and ducked back into the alley.

  Can't go that way. Every Praamian Guard and Arbitor that had gone into the Night Guild tunnels would recognize her on sight. She'd seen the Duke's men pocket a few of the images of her that lay strewn around the Houses they'd raided. Her days of traveling Praamis under the cloak of anonymity had come to an end.

  Now what? She peered around the corner, studying the Praamian Guards. They seemed in no hurry to move. The six olive-clad men stood s
traight, hands on their swords, eyes scanning the crowd. They had to be searching for her.

  Movement in an alley on the opposite side of the street caught her attention. A man in a hooded cloak identical to hers slipped into the main avenue and strode toward the Ward of Refuge with the confident stride of a man on business. The Praamian Guards paid no attention to the man, further confirming her suspicion that they sought only her.

  Something about that man looked familiar. The way he moved—always on the balls of his feet, his right hand close to his belt, his eyes never pausing in one place--reminded her of Errik. And Ullard. And Denber, for that matter. The lithe grace and the air of casual danger about him screamed House Serpent.

  So one of them got out. Relief flooded her. If one Serpent had survived, perhaps more had. No one knew the sewer system beneath Praamis like the Hounds, but no one could ever accuse the Serpents of being unprepared.

  But she couldn't follow the Serpent into the Ward of Refuge. The guards would spot her immediately, and a day spent searching Praamis had left her exhausted. She'd had only a few hasty mouthfuls of water all day long, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She had no desire for a prolonged chase through the city streets. Or, Watcher forbid, a fight.

  Her shoulders tightened, and frustration growled in the back of her throat. She needed to find that Serpent. If nothing else, he could help her track down Rhynd. A second set of eyes and a Serpent's skill with weapons would go a long way toward freeing her friends.

  Her mind raced. How am I going to get past those guards?

  As if in answer to her unspoken question, a train of oxen-drawn wagons rumbled toward her, wooden wheels clacking on the cobblestones. Piles of cabbage, lettuce, and other green vegetables rose high. A trio of sleepy-looking caravan guards rode on the near side of the procession.

  If she timed it just right, the wagons would provide cover for her to slip past the Praamian Guards and into the Ward of Refuge. She cast a quick glance up the street. The tall man in the Night Guild hood had disappeared around the corner. She'd have to hurry to catch up, but it could work.