She held her left hand palm up. "Or, I offer you a home here, in my Night Guild. We are what we are: thieves, assassins, criminals. I cannot promise a life of peace, of happiness." Her voice hardened. "But I can promise that you will never have to suffer abuse at the hands of a man again. If you join me, become members of the Night Guild as have so many others in the past, you will be taught to fight and given the weapons to do so. You will learn the skills needed to survive on the streets of Praamis, to earn enough to make a life for yourself without the Houses of the Night Guild." She lowered both hands. "Either way, you decide your fates now. The gods have ignored your pleas for help, but I will not turn my back on you. Whatever you choose, I will do everything in my power as Master of the Night Guild to help you. Upon the Watcher in the Dark, I swear it."
A few of the older girls exchanged glances, suspicion and mistrust plain.
One, a slim, raven-haired girl with the coloring of the Twelve Kingdoms far to the north, spoke first. "What manner of choice is that?" She spoke in the melodic accent of the people of Al Hani. "For those of us with no families, we must become criminals like you?"
Ilanna shrugged. "A terrible choice is better than none at all."
The girl scowled. "Like a eunuch deciding which testicle to have removed first."
Ilanna fought to keep her jaw from dropping. This one's fiery. I like her.
"What's your name?" she asked.
The girl folded her arms, a stubborn set to her jaw. "What does it matter to you? You hold us captive, just as they did." She spat. "You are no better than those men."
Ilanna motioned toward the door. "You may to leave any time you choose. You will have coin and supplies." She stepped closer. "You are prisoner no longer."
To her credit, the swarthy girl didn't flinch. She met Ilanna's gaze levelly, a hint of defiance in her eyes.
Ilanna extended a hand. "You choose your fate. Stay or go, you are free."
The girl stared down at Ilanna's hand for a long moment, then took it in her own. "You may call me Aisha, Ilanna of the Night Guild."
Ilanna grinned up at her. "Well met."
A few of more girls pressed toward Ilanna, offering their names and words of gratitude. Ria slipped away from the crowd to tend to those too weak, sickly, or drugged to move. She had no need of the attention, Ilanna knew; she only cared that the girls were being cared for.
A discreet cough sounded behind her. Ilanna turned to see Jarl and Errik standing in the shadows beside the double doors to the Menagerie.
As Ilanna moved away from the girls, they reached for her, grasping her robes with desperation, relief, and hope. With effort, she extricated herself and strode toward her two friends.
She caught the arm of Hassel, a Hound, who was hurrying toward the girls with an armload of fresh clothing. "Journeyman, see to the transportation of those who wish to return home. For those who wish to stay, bring them to Matron Secila for training to join the Houses."
"Yes, Master Gold," the Hound responded with a short bow.
Matron Secila had been among the first rescued women. Instead of becoming a Journeyman of any one House, she had accepted Ilanna's charge to care for and train the girls who chose to stay. She worked with Master Seemhon, a former Serpent too injured to carry on the trade of an assassin. Their training lacked the callous brutality that had marked Master Velvet's tenure.
Ilanna approached Jarl and Errik. "What news?" she demanded.
"We found him, Ilanna." A grim expression darkened Errik's face. "And, possibly, their true base of operations."
Triumph surged in Ilanna's chest. "Where?"
Errik grimaced. "The Gardens."
Ilanna ground her teeth. The Duke's Arbitors and the Praamian Guard wouldn't be pleased to see the Night Guild flooding the affluent neighborhood. But it didn't matter.
"Let's go." She turned to Jarl. "Gather your Bloodbears and get them on the move."
"All of them," Errik added.
Ilanna raised an eyebrow. Errik wasn't prone to exaggeration; if he believed they needed all of House Bloodbear, they were in for a rough fight.
"Do it," she ordered. "I want the place surrounded before nightfall."
With his usual loquacity, Jarl grunted and strode from the Menagerie.
A hand gripped Ilanna's arm. "Don't think for a minute you're leaving me behind," Ria said.
Ilanna opened her mouth to protest, but she knew that look on Ria's face too well. Nothing would stop the Ghandian woman from accompanying them.
She sighed. "Gear up. We move out now. When the sun rises tomorrow, I want the Bloody Hand out of Praamis once and for all."
Chapter Three
How in the fiery hell did we miss this?
From her vantage point atop the Hawk's Highway—the network of ropes, ladders, and catwalks that spanned the rooftops of Praamis—Ilanna had a clear view of the furor below. Dozens of men rolled wooden barrels from the warehouse, down the quayside, and up the jetty toward the barge docked along the bank of the Stannar River. In the last ten minutes, close to fifty barrels—no doubt filled with the packages of Bonedust—had been loaded. The Bloody Hand was clearing out their operation in a hurry.
Ilanna scanned the figures. Most had the rough features, thick necks, and heavy shoulders of dockhands. Here and there, men shouted orders, but none bore the authoritative carriage and demeanor of the true power behind this operation. Perhaps she'd find the person in charge within the warehouse. Watcher knew the enormous building had enough rooms for thrice this many thugs to hide out.
She glanced at Ria. The Ghandian's dark eyes scanned the warehouse, her expression hard as stone. Her fingers danced across the wooden shaft of her assegai.
Motioning for Ria to follow, Ilanna darted across the narrow plank that spanned the gap to a nearby building, dropped onto a darkened balcony, and leapt the short distance to the roof of the warehouse. Ria made no more sound than she—the last seven years spent training with the Hawks and Serpents had transformed her into a sure-footed, stealthy thief. She easily kept pace on the Hawk's Highway, a fact Ilanna fought hard not to envy.
Three figures waited for her on the warehouse roof. None older than fifteen, they all wore the dark grey clothes of Hawks. She knew them all by name, but her eyes went to the curly-haired youth at the front of the pack.
"What in the Watcher's name are you doing here, Kodyn?" she demanded.
"Working," her son responded in a harsh whisper filled with a mixture of defiance and pride. "You asked for House Hawk's help, so here I am."
Ilanna gritted her teeth. She had sought to buy her freedom from the Night Guild for fear her son would end up enslaved to the same cruel masters that had turned her into a ruthless thief and killer. When she accepted the post of Master Gold, she'd believed him dead. Her joy at finding him alive had turned to anxiety and fear for his future. Even as Master of the Night Guild, she couldn't truly prevent him from following in her footsteps.
Without Master Velvet's harsh training regimen, induction into the Night Guild had become less a manner of servitude and more of the typical training underwent by apprentices of any profession. At least he'd determined to join House Hawk—a decision she had forced Bryden to comply with. Master Hawk had had a sort of vicious glee at the prospect of having her son under his thumb.
She'd done everything she could to train him, teach him the skills that had made her the best of House Hawk. And yet, every time she caught sight of him in his work clothing, carrying the tools of a third-story thief, worry roiled in her stomach.
"Your work here is done, Kodyn," she snapped. "Go back to the Aerie and report to Master Hawk."
Kodyn folded his arms.
Ria stepped forward. "Little hawk," she said, speaking in her native Ghandian, "your mother and Guild Master commands you."
"I know," Kodyn responded, also in Ghandian. He and Ilanna had learned enough of the dark-skinned girl's tongue to carry on a conversion, which they did whenever he wanted to arg
ue with her. "But I don't care. I want to fight." He drew a dagger. "Master Serpent has been training me, just like he said he trained you."
Ilanna gritted her teeth. Seems I need to have a little chat with Errik. She'd done her damnedest to keep her son out of harm's way.
"Listen," she snapped, "House Hawk was to watch from the rooftops, but no one said anything about fighting. We have Bloodbears and Serpents for that."
"But Mother, I—"
"I have decided," Ilanna said, speaking Einari so the other Hawks could understand her orders. "The Hawks have done their job."
Kodyn's expression grew sullen. He'd grown so much in the last eight years. At the age of thirteen, he stood taller than her, and far broader in the shoulder. He had just begun to lose the childish pudginess, his training hardening his muscles the way it had done to her. "Remember," she said in Ghandian, "I can still bend you over my knee and spank you. Or just have Jarl do it."
Scowling, Kodyn nodded. "Fine." He rolled his eyes and stalked toward the edge of the roof.
Ilanna watched him go, her heart leaping to her throat as he dropped out of sight. He knew the Hawk's Highway as well as any of his House, but that didn't stop her from worrying.
She turned to the other two Hawks. "Did you get a look inside the upper-story windows?"
The oldest, a lanky boy named Tuck, nodded. "Raith here," he said, hooking a thumb at a stocky youth Kodyn's age, "actually snuck in and took a closer look around. The rooms on the top floor are empty, but the other floors are occupied."
"Did you get a count of the girls?" she asked Raith.
The boy colored and hastily shook his head. "Didn't want to risk gettin’ caught."
Ilanna nodded. "Smart lad."
"If'n it helps, though," Raith added, "there was a fella who was givin' orders like he owned the place. Poncy manner, he had. Seemed 'fraid, though. He was rushin' round the main floor like a headless chicken, hurryin' the heavies. Said they had to clear out quick-like."
"Excellent!" Ilanna beamed. She'd hoped to find the one in charge of the operation. If she could get her hands on him, the Serpents could extract a wealth of information from him. "You've done well. All of you. Pass on my compliments to your master."
"Aye, Master Gold," Tuck gave her an awkward bow and Raith knuckled his forehead, then both followed Kodyn over the side of the roof.
Ilanna turned to Ria. "Can you get word to Errik and Henley? If he's the same one that escaped us last time, I want him taken alive. Break his arms and legs if they must, but he has to talk."
Ria raised an eyebrow. "I can, but I won't, not unless you give me your word you'll stay out of things this time. The Bloodbears, Serpents, and Hounds have the place locked down. There's no need for you to go in. No sense taking foolish risks, Guild Master."
"Are you going to sit this one out?" Ilanna demanded.
Ria said nothing, but Ilanna knew the determined look in her eye too well.
"Then neither am I. I will, however, promise to wait to give the signal until you return. If you're so worried about me, the least I can do is allow you to watch my back."
Ria's teeth gleamed in the starlight. "You're just hoping I compliment you on how pretty I think that back is, aren't you?"
Ilanna chuckled. "Go, and return quickly. We have to move quickly if we're to catch them all."
With a nod, Ria sped back the way they'd come and leapt onto the adjacent roof. Ilanna watched the dark-skinned girl until she disappeared into the shadows, then padded toward the river-side of the building. She crawled on her belly and peered over the edge of the roof—three stories above the dock—and scanned the movement below.
Up close, the wooden barge seemed enormous, the same size as the vessels that transported grain upstream and wine downstream. Ilanna lost count of the barrels stacked on the deck, but there had to be close to seventy. A veritable fortune in Bonedust and whatever other illicit substances the Bloody Hand dealt in.
But the Bonedust was low on her list of priorities. Sinking the barge would hamstring the Bloody Hand's operations, but she wanted to bring it all crumbling down. That meant capturing the one in charge of the operation. And, she would save a few girls from a life of misery and sexual servitude in the process.
Yes, tonight will be a good night.
A new figure joined the men bustling to and from the barge. The man was slim and of average height, with rough features. Yet something about his bearing and the way he shouted commands at the dockhands spoke of nobility. His accent had the sharp, harsh tones that marked him as Voramian.
This has to be him.
She studied the man. His left hand rested on the hilt of a slim fencing sword, an affectation popular among the nobility of Praamis and Voramis. Despite his stiff posture, he moved with the casual ease of a dancer or fighter.
"That's the last one, sir," a rough voice sounded from within the warehouse. A moment later, a thick-necked dockhand appeared from within. "All seventy-five barrels loaded and ready."
"Excellent," the man replied. Raith had been right; he spoke with a distinctly lofty tone, and had a habit of staring down his nose at the other man. "Let's cast off, then. Stonecroft will be waiting for our cargo."
Stonecroft, eh? Lord Mayharn Stonecroft was a minor noble of Praamis, one of those lords who held little power or influence in the city beyond their title and holdings. Seems like we've found who in Praamis is collaborating with the Bloody Hand.
"Aye, sir. Very good." The dockhand hesitated. "And the…er…other cargo?"
The man drew a finger across his throat. "Dispose of it."
Ice danced down Ilanna's spine. We have to go now.
From within her cloak, she drew out two fist-sized glass spheres filled with a dark amber liquid. She raced to the far end of the warehouse rooftop and hurled one sphere into the midst of the four men clustered before the door. The shattering of glass sounded loud in the silence of the street, followed a moment later by a sudden roar as the flammable alchemical liquid within burst into a pillar of golden fire.
The Bloody Hand guards cried out and fell back, shielding their eyes from the flames. At that moment, a flood of Bloodbears, Hounds, and Serpents charged them. The men, half-blinded and stunned, had no time to defend themselves before the Bloodbears' maces brought them down.
Without hesitation, Ilanna charged back toward the river-side of the building and hurled the remaining sphere toward the wooden pier. Bright flames reached heavenward as the glass shattered, and one unlucky thug screamed as the fire licked at his clothes, hair, and flesh.
Ilanna scanned the dock for any sign of the leader. She spotted him charging away from the conflagration, toward the edge of the quay. He slid to a halt as a trio of Hounds clambered onto the wooden pier. His sword flashed out of its sheath, and he backed away.
"Take 'em, lads!" Henley shouted. He and his fellow Hounds carried short swords and maces.
A trio of Bloody Hand thugs burst from the warehouse and charged Henley and his men. His opponents occupied, the slim, tall man turned to flee.
Damn it! Ilanna clenched her fists and glanced around. She had to find a way to get down to the quay and stop the man from escaping.
She caught sight of the crumbling chimney poking up from the flat warehouse roof, and an idea struck her. Uncoiling the length of black rope from her waist—her years as a Hawk had taught her never to go out without her tools—she looped it around the chimney, her fingers flying as she tied a knot. Holding the rope in one gloved hand and her sword in the other, she raced toward the edge of the roof and dropped.
Instead of hurling herself straight out, she leapt to one side. Her weight brought her swinging across the side of the warehouse like a pendulum. Heat singed her flesh as the rope slid through her gloved hands, but the tough leather provided her enough grip to slow her descent. By the time she reached the bottom of the arc, she hung a few paces above the ground.
She released her hold on the rope and dropped the rest of the way
. Her heels and calves protested as she landed, but she rolled with the impact and leapt to her feet. The fleeing man, stunned at seeing her seemingly drop from the sky, ground to a halt in front of her.
"Nowhere to run, you bastard!" she shouted. "The Bloody Hand has meddled in Praamis for the last time." All around, the shouts and cries of battle echoed around her, punctuated by the screams of terrified girls.
The rough face creased into a sneer. "You've no idea what—"
Ilanna didn't let him finish. She charged, her sword leading the way. He turned the low thrust aside and riposted with surprising adroitness. Ilanna had to hurl herself to the side to avoid the blow. She winced as her shoulder collided with the warehouse wall, but had no time to think about it. Her opponent pressed the advantage, his sword whistling through the air with blurring speed.
Ilanna gave way, evading his longer reach and lighter sword. She fought with confidence earned through years of training with Errik, the best assassin House Serpent had to offer. No matter how hard the man tried to press, she evaded or turned aside his strikes.
She slashed out with the tip of her sword, scoring a long gash across his forehead. She darted backward. At any moment, blood would drip into his eyes, blinding him. She would—
Her eyes went wide. Instead of blood, it seemed the flesh of his forehead peeled away. His brows, nose, and mouth seemed to sag, widening the tear.
The man cursed and fumbled at his face, as if trying to push his skin into place. Horror twisted in Ilanna's gut. What manner of demon is he?
With a growl, the man seized his flesh and ripped it free, revealing a markedly different face beneath. Instead of a thick nose and sloping brows, the man had slim, angular features and a sharp chin.
Ilanna's eyes darted to the skin in his hand, back up to his young, aristocratic face, and again to the skin. Her mind struggled to comprehend what she was seeing.
"Bitch!" the man snapped. He hurled the flesh away and raised his sword. "You'll pay for that!"
Stunned, Ilanna barely managed to interpose her blade. Again and again he struck, his blade moving almost too quickly for her sluggish mind to register. Only years of training and her thief's reflexes saved her from being impaled. She winced as a thrust slid past her guard to pierce her shoulder.
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