Queen of Thieves Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  She waited, heart thundering, and counted two full minutes—more than enough time for someone to investigate the noise. She poked her head out of the door and peered into the open space two stories below.

  Four men sat in the heart of the warehouse. On the table before them stood a lantern, a deck of playing cards, coins, and the remnants of a meal. All four sported the heavy musculature, thick hands, and wooden clubs marking them as Rhynd's thugs, but no sign of the man himself. Ilanna couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Had Rhynd set those men in plain sight to lull her into a false sense of security? Or were they simply doing as men in their profession tended to do with moments of inactivity? Ilanna didn't care to find out.

  Pressing herself into the shadows of the upper floor, she slid toward a door a few paces away. She tested the handle. Locked. Drawing out the lockpicks, she set to work. Four pins. Within a matter of seconds, the lock clicked and she cracked the door.

  Empty. The tiny surge of hope turned to bile in her throat.

  The next door stood ajar, but again only blackness and silence within.

  Damn it! Muttering a silent curse, Ilanna moved on.

  Fifteen heart-pounding minutes later, and her search of the upper floor had proven fruitless. Ilanna hesitated at the stairway to the second level. The closer she drew to the thugs sitting below, the greater the chance they'd see or hear her.

  She tested each step with her foot before resting her weight. Silver Tongue Brewing Company had gone out of business a decade earlier; years of neglect lay heavy over the warehouse. Thieves had taken everything of value: wall sconces, wooden furniture, even the glass window panes. The building had become just one more of the abandoned constructions left to rot.

  Her heart leapt to her throat as heavy footfalls sounded on the floor beneath her. She froze, fingers tight on the dagger tucked into her sleeve. She had no desire to fight the Bloody Hand unless necessary. Her training with Errik had taught her to outthink her opponent. That meant keeping the element of surprise as long as possible. The longer she remained undetected, the greater the chance she'd find her friends and free them without alerting the Bloody Hand. The rooftop hatch would provide a safe exit. If only she could find them.

  The thumping boots moved on after a few tense seconds. The Voramian called out to his friends at the table and joined in the game. So long as they remained clustered around that table, in the direct lamplight, she could slink through the shadows unseen.

  She slipped beneath the cover of the staircase and tested the door handle. Locked. A few seconds of work with her lockpicks and it opened.

  Moonlight streamed in through a rectangular window high on the far wall. In the faint illumination, Ilanna caught a glimpse of a figure huddled on the floor.

  Without a sound, Ilanna glided toward the figure. She didn't dare call out for fear of a trap. Rhynd could easily have left one of his thugs here, waiting for her to—

  "He...llo?" a familiar voice whispered. The figure's face turned toward her. She stifled a cry of horror. Both of Errik's eyes had swollen shut, and blood stained his cheeks, mouth, and nose.

  "Errik!" she hissed. She darted across the dusty floor to crouch beside him.

  The Serpent recoiled at her touch. "No! Don't hurt m—"

  Ilanna pressed a hand to his mouth. "Errik, it's me!" She spoke in a low, firm voice. "It's Ilanna."

  "I…lanna?" Confusion filled Errik's voice. "Ilanna's…dead. Saw her die."

  "Not a chance, Errik." A lump rose in her throat. "It's me, you fool. I'm here to get you out."

  Errik forced open an eye, and he gasped. "Ilanna?" He blinked, as if unable to believe it. "Is it…really you?"

  Ilanna nodded. "Of course, silly man. Think I'd let you take down Rhynd all on your own?"

  Errik flinched at the name. "Is he--?"

  "Dead? Not yet, but as soon as I find him, I'll make the sorry bastard wish he was."

  "No!" Errik moaned. "No, this is all wrong." Errik shoved her away. "You can't be here."

  "I'm getting you out of here."

  "No!" Errik's voice had regained some of its strength. "You need to get out of here now. Before Rhynd finds you."

  "No one knows I'm here. Verum and Leo took care of the sentries outside. They're keeping an eye on the warehouse. At the first sign of alarm, they'll attack." She studied Errik, for the first time noticing the heavy chain running from the collar around his neck to a ring set in the wall. A second chain linked to a steel band wrapping his ribs. She drew out her lockpicks and set to work. "Where are the others?"

  "I don't know," Errik rasped in a voice like crackling parchment. "Rhynd's been keeping us in separate rooms. I haven't seen the others since…"

  "But they're all alive? Darreth? Joost and Veslund? Allon?"

  Errik winced at the last name. "I heard Allon screaming earlier. No doubt Rhynd's doing the same to him as he did to me." He motioned to his bloodied face.

  "Anything broken?"

  Errik shook his head. "Nothing serious." Every breath held a quiet wheeze. "Busted ribs, more bruises than a Fox caught by a pack of Bloodbears." He prodded his cheeks and winced. "Probably lost my good looks, too."

  Ilanna chuckled. "See what happens when I leave you boys alone?"

  Errik laughed then gave a quiet groan. "Don't! Hurts just to breathe."

  "You think you can make it onto the rooftops?" Ilanna jerked a thumb at the ceiling. "Found a rooftop hatch. It's our way—"

  "Roof hatch?" Errik stiffened. "And there was no one there?"

  Ilanna shook her head. "Dark and quiet."

  Errik's swollen eyes flew wide. "No, that's not right. They were up there…"

  The fear in his expression sent an icy dagger of fear into Ilanna's gut. "What?"

  "They left it unguarded, Ilanna," Errik hissed.

  Ilanna's gut lurched. Of course they did. Rhynd had known she used the Hawk's Highway to get around Praamis. He'd sent his thugs to the rooftops with the Serpents and Hounds to find her. How could I be so foolish to believe—

  The door banged open and dazzling lamplight flooded the room. Ilanna blinked, momentarily blinded, and leapt toward the wall behind Errik. She had to open space between her and the thugs, give her eyes time to recover.

  Hands closed about her wrists. She reacted as Errik had trained her to. Her right elbow shot up and to the side. Blood spurted down her arm, and a man cried out. The grip on her right arm loosened. She brought her dagger across her body in a vicious swipe meant to open the throat of the opponent on her left. Her hand met a hard forearm before the blade came close. The strike distracted the man from her true intention: her right knee driven between the fork of his legs. The fingers around her left arm fell away.

  Ilanna's eyes adjusted to the light in time for her to see two more thugs closing in behind the first two. These held clubs and approached her with caution. Errik's weak kick glanced off a calf as thick as a tree trunk. The thug snarled and slammed his truncheon into the top of the Serpent's head. Errik collapsed, his face thumping on the hard, dust-covered floor.

  The distraction gave Ilanna the opening she needed. She'd positioned herself behind Errik in an attempt to split up her assailants. She darted toward the one on her left and drove the dagger into his gut. He fell with a shriek, hands clasping the hilt.

  She tried to leap over the falling body, but the Voramian's swiping hands caught her foot. She stumbled, fell hard, and scrambled back up. Strong arms wrapped her waist and pulled her backward. Ilanna drove her heel into the arch of the thug's foot. The man squealed and dropped her. She stamped on his groin as she sprinted toward the door.

  Something the size of her entire head slammed into her face with the force of a rushing carriage. The blow snapped her head up and hurled her backward. She collapsed, world whirling around her at a dizzying speed. Tears stung her eyes and ran down her cheeks to mingle with the warm blood filling her mouth.

  "Take her," a rough voice said.

  She tried to mov
e, to fight, but more hands gripped her arms and legs. Loops of rough hemp were passed over her wrists and ankles and pulled taut. Another loop slipped around her neck. With a yank, the noose was jerked tight. She gasped for air as she was hauled upright by the rope.

  A cruel, bearded face hovered in her wobbling vision. "Hello, little girl." Rhynd gave her a smile reminiscent of a cat grinning at a mouse trapped between its paws. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you, Ilanna of House Hawk."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Ilanna blinked away the tears and stared up at the huge Voramian. Rhynd towered close to two heads taller than her. Heavy bands of muscle bunched along forearms bigger than her thighs. Intricate tattoos decorated every part of his body—from the swirling lines around his eyes to the razor wire wrapping his legs, every decoration shrieked of cruelty and malice. The delighted gleam in his eyes sent icy feet dancing down her spine.

  "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He leered at her. "You'd fit in among the painted women working The Arms of Heaven nicely."

  The noose pulled tight around Ilanna's neck prevented her from retorting. Every bit of effort went into drawing breath through the constricting force crushing her throat.

  "Come, girl. We'll leave your friend here to get some rest." Rhynd's huge fingers twitched the rope, as if tugging at livestock. "I've a special pen made up just for you. But first."

  His hands pawed at her clothing, poking and prodding as he searched her. He held up her dagger. "Cute little thing." Tucking it into his belt, he drew out her pouch. He threw the lockpicks and quickfire globes into the corner of the room.

  Ilanna stiffened when he found the melted tin hawk.

  His eyebrows rose. "Something important?" He ran a thick thumb over the figurine. "Looks like the sort of thing a child would play with. Your child, perhaps?" His tone rang of cruel mockery. "Shame about that fire, eh?"

  Ilanna leapt toward him, snarling. The thugs holding the ropes around her limbs dragged her back. One punched her hard in the side, and she sagged with a groan.

  "Bring her." Rhynd tossed the metal figurine to another thug. "Throw this in the fire."

  Ilanna wanted to cry out, to scream, but the noose around her neck cut off her air. She could do nothing as a Bloody Hand thug lifted her onto his back like a satchel of flour and followed Rhynd from Errik's room and up the staircase. Her gut twisted as the man dropped her to the floor of the chamber where she'd entered. The light spilling from the lamps in the thugs' hands revealed four rings of steel set into the walls. Two men seized the ropes around her wrists and ankles and threaded the ends through the rings. She resisted their pull on her limbs, but her strength proved no match for theirs. The tightening ropes pulled her legs apart and stretched her arms until her shoulder joints protested.

  Rhynd's huge fingers dug into her throat as he loosened the noose and pulled it over her head. Ilanna sucked in a deep breath. Her throat ached and her head pounded, but at least the blackness filling her vision retreated with the rush of oxygen.

  Without a word, Rhynd's thugs trooped from the room, leaving her alone with the huge Voramian. Rhynd sat on a chair that had mysteriously appeared in the once-empty room. "The way my comrades in Voramis talked about you, I expected something a lot bigger and…more impressive." He scratched at his beard, shedding large flakes of skin. "Though, given the fact that you're a thief, this makes more sense."

  "What…do you…want?" Even the few words sent pain stabbing into her throat.

  "A golden throne. Beautiful women to bounce on my knob. The lost treasure of Rach-chan-neth." His face darkened. "A Keeper-damned thief to fall in line and accept the Bloody Hand's power in Praamis. Looks like I won't be getting any of those things, will I?"

  Rhynd rose to his feet. He towered over her, his bulk as imposing as the fires burning in his eyes. "You've cost me a lot, girl. You and your ridiculous defiance. Years we've spent working to turn the Night Guild to our desires, wasted! Because some silly little girl gets it in her head she wants to run things herself."

  "What?" The words caught Ilanna off-guard.

  "Even a fool could see your plan, plain as the tail on a horse's ass. You wanted to become the next Master Gold. And you couldn't have us coming in and spoiling that for you." He bared his teeth. "Big mistake. People who piss off the Bloody Hand don't live long to regret it."

  Ilanna's injured throat made her laughter sound coarse, weak. He had no idea how wrong he truly was.

  "Laugh all you want, girl. It'll make breaking you more fun."

  Ilanna's mirth died. "Torture me all you want, I'll—"

  "Save your breath." Rhynd shook his head. "We're not after any hidden treasures, any secret maps of the city. We have all that. Your foolish actions have stalled us for a month, maybe two. But we know everything we need to know. When we come back, everything the Night Guild once owned will be ours."

  Ilanna stared at him with defiance burning in her eyes.

  "Funny thing about torture." Rhynd gave her a cruel smile. "If you want answers, you've got to keep your victim alive long enough to get what you want. But that's not what we're after. My master, the First of the Bloody Hand, intends to make an example out of you. He studied under the Masters of Agony. He'll make your death last for weeks. By the end, you'll look like a sack of flesh and broken bones. Sort of like your friend did before we nailed him to that post."

  Ilanna's gut churned at the memory of Prynn's corpse.

  "I've got orders to bring you to Voramis," Rhynd said, "alive if possible, but dead's not a problem. You'll end up a corpse anyway. The how of it isn't all that important to the First."

  He drew closer—so close his stink of sweat, garlic, and rancid meat flooded her nose. Close enough that his abdomen pressed against her face.

  Ilanna bared her teeth. "Touch me, and I'll—"

  Rhynd's hand clamped on Ilanna’s jaw, twisting her head toward his.

  "You'll do what?" He glared, his grip so tight she felt her jaw would break. When she made no answer, a mocking grin split his face. "Damned right, girlie. There's not a bloody thing you can do."

  He released her, and her head sagged. "I'll kill you," she growled.

  Rhynd laughed, a cold, cruel sound. His open palm cracked across her face. The impact rocked her head to the side. Blackness flashed through her vision, and the room whirled. She sagged against the ropes. Only the pain in her stretched shoulder joints kept her from losing consciousness. "No you won't. All you can do is pray to whatever god you serve that you please me. Else I'll have the rest of my crew take a turn with you." His cold, hard eyes met hers. "And there'll be a reward to the man who hurts you most."

  Dread writhed like a serpent in Ilanna's gut. She refused to give up hope. Verum and Leo are still out there. She'd told the Serpents to give her a half-hour, and to enter at any sign of alarm. They'll come for—

  "For now, I get to have my bit of fun with you," he hissed.

  Ilanna shuddered as he rubbed himself against her with a little groan. She felt him swell against her ribs, and she fought down the urge to vomit. She couldn't retreat from his touch; the ropes on her wrists and ankles held her fast. His breath came quicker as he pressed his knee between her legs. He gripped her jaw and twisted her face up, pressing a rough kiss on her. Ilanna clamped down on his lip, biting until she drew blood.

  Rhynd shoved her away with a growl. He tested his lip, grinning at the crimson on his hand.

  Ilanna spat to clear the taste of him from her mouth.

  "Good," the Voramian breathed, "that's the spirit. A bit of fight makes it all the better."

  He rubbed against her again. His huge hands trailed down her neck, shoulders, and around to her front, groping, pawing, squeezing. Every touch sent a shiver down her spine.

  "Ten days between Praamis and Voramis, little girl." His voice held the promise of horrors. "Maybe even longer. You never know when a sandstorm will kick up. We may be stuck for days with nothing to stop us from enjoying each
other."

  He fumbled with her belt and tugged at her pants. His breathing grew faster, and Ilanna's gut twisted at the sound of a loosening buckle.

  "We're going to have some fun, you and I," he whispered.

  The door opened and one of Rhynd's thugs entered. His eyes widened at the sight. "Uh…sorry, sir…"

  "What in the bloody hell d'you want?" Rhynd roared.

  The thug's face turned crimson, his eyes dropping. "Uh, you need to see this, boss."

  "Fuck off! Can't you see I'm busy?"

  "Sir, yes, sir. It's just…" He trailed off.

  With a growl, Rhynd stepped back from Ilanna and buckled his trousers. "Bleeding morons can't do a thing without me holding your hands!" He squeezed Ilanna's buttock, his hand digging between her legs, and rubbed the visible bulge in his trousers. "Don't go anywhere. We're not done yet."

  She twisted away from his touch. Laughing, Rhynd strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Acid surged in Ilanna's throat, and she spat bile. Anything was better than the foul taste of the Voramian in her mouth. The feel of his hand on her body lingered, bringing another shudder.

  Less than a minute passed before the door banged open and Rhynd strode in. A mocking smile broadened his face. "Might these be friends of yours?"

  Two thugs entered the room behind him, carrying something over their shoulders. They hurled their burdens to the floor. Ilanna's eyes widened. Leo's head hung at an awkward angle, his eyes wide and sightless. Blood stained Verum's tunic and breeches, seeped from wounds on his forehead, neck, and face.

  Ilanna found her voice. "You bastard! You'd better kill me now, or I swear by all the gods that you will die screaming."

  Rhynd chuckled. "I love me a bit of fire, girlie." He winked and rubbed his crotch with a huge hand. "But I'll save the pleasure until later. For now, you need time to rest. We've got a long day of travel ahead of us."

  With that, he left and took the torchlight with him.