Rules for Thieves

by Alexandra Ott

  He’s quiet for a moment. “You never told me how that happened. How you went to the orphanage, I mean.”

  “There’s not anything to tell. I was abandoned. Left on the doorstep.”

  We’re both quiet for a minute. It’s one of those moments when there’s nothing you can say.

  For half a second, I’m tempted to tell him the rest of it. The important bit of it.

  About my brother.

  When I was little, I used to say it all the time, like a badge of pride—“I have a brother.” But then I got older and realized what that meant and why the Sisters always looked so pitying when I said it. Because he wasn’t dropped off on the orphanage doorstep.

  I had a brother, and she chose him over me.

  I don’t tell people that anymore.

  “So,” I say finally, “what does any of this have to do with me? How am I going to get ten thousand majas?”

  “I’m on my way back to the Guild,” Beck says. “The reason I came to Azeland was to find another member of the Guild. I don’t know why he was sent here, but he was supposed to be back weeks ago and never showed. So I was sent to find out what happened to him. Turns out he was caught. Nothing we can do about that. So I’ll be heading back to the Guild now. I sent a message to my—my transportation, and he’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” He told me he was going back to Arat for his birthday, but somehow I’d forgotten. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” He hesitates. “And you can come with me.”

  “What?” He can’t possibly mean what I think he means. “Can I—can I do that? Go to the Guild?”

  “There are certain . . . precautions we take. There are enchantments protecting the hall. If you pass through the enchantments, then yes, you can come in. But you can only stay for a few days unless . . . unless you join. And joining the Guild is a little more complicated. If you choose to leave instead, you’ll have to take a potion that makes you forget everything about the Guild. But, yeah, you can come if you want. And when you join the Guild, you’re paid. Usually it’s around twenty thousand jamars, but on a good year it’s more.”

  Twenty thousand jamars! That’s . . . that’s like fifteen thousand majas. If I only need ten thousand to get into the Springs . . . “Do you think I should? Join the Guild, I mean.”

  “That’s up to you,” he says slowly. “I mean, it’s not a decision to make on a whim. But it’s the fastest way I know of to get the kind of money you need for the Springs. Plus, the Guild can give you food and clothing and shelter. Whatever you need. There won’t be any protectors looking for you. And there are healers that can help with minor illnesses, though nothing like Xeroth’s Blood. But you’ll have to work for the Guild in return. The Guild leader will send you on assignments. It can be dangerous, too. Guild members are dangerous.”

  But even as he warns me, his eyes shine with excitement. He wants me to go. To join.

  “Well . . . if I have to steal anyway, and the Guild can help me . . . If the Guild gives me the money I need for the Springs . . .”

  “Exactly.” He smiles. “And you’ll be far from the orphanage, far from anyone who might recognize you. And while you’re in the guildhall, there aren’t any protectors to worry about.”

  This is probably reckless. It sounds dangerous. But mostly it sounds exciting, and there’s something to be said for the promise of food every day and a warm place to sleep.

  Plus, I don’t have any better ideas for getting ten thousand majas.

  “Okay,” I say.

  And just like that, I agree to go to the Thieves Guild.

  Chapter Six

  I lie awake for most of the night, trying to stop looking at my right hand and failing.

  I wait for it to sink in, but it doesn’t. Everything feels like a bad dream I’m going to wake up from, or some kind of practical joke. What Beck said made sense, but . . . I can’t be dying. It can’t be real.

  I’d feel it if I were dying, right?

  But the next morning, the black lines are still there. Some of them have spread onto my palm, and two others are creeping up my arm.

  Guess I’ll have to start wearing long sleeves and gloves or something. Maybe Beck and I can steal some today.

  Right after I wake up, Beck comes in and tells me we’re supposed to meet our transportation to the Guild at noon outside of Centre Cathedral.

  “Do you really think it’s a good idea to meet in the middle of the city in broad daylight?” I ask. “Isn’t it a . . . I don’t know, prominent location?”

  “Believe me,” Beck says, “it’s the best place for us to meet.”

  After breakfast, Beck and I steal some provisions for our trip, since we both left our bags back at the raided clothing shop. Among the things we take are some cloth bandages that I wrap around my hand to cover up the black marks.

  Beck and I follow a crowd of tourists into the cathedral. The doors open into a wide circular room of white stone and colored glass. Tiers of benches are arranged in a half circle, facing the raised platform at the back. Dramatic arches curve around the room, making it feel immense and echoing. The sound of my own footsteps on the stone makes me jumpy; it’s impossible to hide in this room, to go unheard.

  The tour guide is explaining the meaning of all the runes carved around the room, which apparently spell out lines of prayer. Massive gilded windows of sparkling colored glass line the stone walls, letting the sunlight stream in. Statues of saints sit in niches, encircled by candles. The central statue is one of Saint Ailara that’s elaborately decorated. Ailara is always a popular saint. Everybody wants to improve their luck.

  Beck and I lurk at the back of the tour, trying to look inconspicuous. Beck darts glances out the windows.

  “Shouldn’t we go outside where he can see us?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. “We’ll see him first.”

  “Why? Is he, like, a magician in a fancy cape? Or—”

  “No, he’s a—”

  Beck doesn’t have to finish his sentence. At that moment, the sunlight flooding the eastern windows vanishes as the shadow of something massive descends outside, literally dropping from the sky. As everyone in the tour turns to look out the windows, Beck takes my arm and tugs me out the door.

  A large carriage sits in the street on the east side of the church.

  It’s being pulled by a thilastri.

  So much for being inconspicuous.

  “Try not to look so surprised,” Beck whispers. “People are going to notice us, so act like you’re nobility and you do this every day.”

  No one’s going to buy that we’re nobility. We look—and probably smell—like the homeless orphans we are, but the carriage certainly fits the part. It’s fancy, embellished with gold spirals that are repeated intricately in the spokes of the wheels. A massive blue crest is painted on the side of each door and the roof, but I don’t recognize it as an Azelandian noble house. It’s probably Ruhian.

  The carriage is nothing compared to the creature pulling it. I’ve never actually seen a thilastri in person, just drawings. He’s even bigger than I imagined, twice the width of a horse, and his head rises several feet above the top of the carriage. Almost every inch of his body is covered in thick plumage that is the deepest blue I’ve ever seen. His head is feathered too, and he has a beak like an eagle or something. He sort of reminds me of the parakeet in the Puceys’ house, except a thousand times bigger, more blue, and with four legs that end in paws.

  “Alli, this is Serenier, but we call him Ser. Ser, this is Alli Rosco.” Beck keeps his voice low, since everyone in the vicinity is staring at us.

  The thilastri looks at Beck, then at me, then sternly back at Beck. “You didn’t say you were bringing someone.” His voice is a deep rumble that reminds me of mountains.

  “Long story,” Beck says. He pulls on the carriage door and holds it open for me. With one last disbelieving look at Ser, I climb in. The seats are velvety plush and soft, like nothing
I’ve ever felt before, and I run my fingers over the fabric. In front of me is a little window, and through it I can see Ser’s back and parts of his wings and head. He’s even bluer close up.

  Beck slides in after me. As soon as the carriage door closes, Ser moves, and the carriage picks up speed. With the flapping of Ser’s wings, the carriage lifts, shoving me back against the seat. My stomach churns, and even though I’m not scared I grip the edge of the seat tightly. I’ve never actually flown before, and it feels different than I imagined. Full of bumps and jolts.

  I try to keep my voice steady despite the sickening rolling of my stomach. “So why exactly are we leaving Azeland in the most conspicuous way possible?”

  “The guildhall can’t be reached on foot. We’ve figured out the best way to travel is by thilastri. In other cities, like Cerda, thilastri are more common, so it’s not a conspicuous way to travel. That’s why we had to wait at the chapel—it would seem too strange to have thilastri falling out of the sky in other parts of the city, but the center square is where most nobility have their carriages pick them up.”

  It’s annoying that Beck knows this and I don’t. “I know,” I say. “I’ve lived in Azeland my entire life, remember?”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “So what’s the story?” Ser’s deep voice is so loud in the carriage that I flinch. I can’t see his face from back here, so I can’t try to read his expression.

  “What?” Beck calls, a little too innocently.

  “Why are you bringing an outsider to the Guild?” The way he says “outsider” makes me cringe.

  Beck starts to say something, but I interrupt him. “Excuse me, but I’m capable of speaking for myself, outsider or not,” I say, loudly so that Ser can hear.

  Ser chuckles, and it’s like the sound of a rockslide. “My apologies, miss.”

  “What I was going to say,” Beck cuts in, glaring at me, “is that she decided for herself that she wanted to come, and I think she’s capable of passing the trial. So she’s here.”

  “But you told her about the Guild.” I’m not sure if I’m imagining the accusatory note in Ser’s voice.

  Beck keeps his tone light. “Like Mead always says, it’s on a need-to-know basis. And she needed to know.”

  “You may have Mead’s approval,” Ser says, “but will you have Kerick’s?”

  “Why are you so concerned about it?”

  There’s a pause. “Sorry, Reigler. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to challenge Kerick on this. Especially with your trial coming up. You know how he is.”

  “What trial?” I say. “Who are Mead and Kerick? What’s going on?”

  Beck doesn’t say anything. His mouth is a hard line. This is a first. I’ve seen him look defensive, and apologetic, but never angry.

  “Didn’t he tell you?” Ser says conversationally. “He’ll be thirteen soon, and then he’s got to pass his trial, same as everyone else. You will too, if you want to join.”

  I narrow my eyes. “I thought you were already in the Guild.”

  “I am. But I was born into it. People who are raised in the Guild still have to pass a test—they call it a trial—like everyone else, just to make things fair. Prove we can handle it and we’re ready to be an adult member, even if we’ve already been on assignments before. It’s like a rite of passage. That’s why I’m going back today—it’s almost my birthday, so it’s time for my trial.”

  “What happens if you don’t pass?”

  “I have to leave the Guild.”

  “Same as you will,” Ser says, “if you don’t pass.”

  Beck glares in Ser’s direction. “That won’t happen. We’re both going to pass.”

  “If I take the test,” I remind him. “I haven’t decided for sure yet.”

  Beck shrugs. “Whatever.”

  “So what exactly are the rules here?” I say. “They just hand out all this money to anybody who passes the test, and that’s it?”

  “Er, not exactly,” Beck says.

  “Not at all,” Ser says.

  Beck taps his index finger against the seat. “Basically, all Guild members are given certain . . . assignments. The king chooses specific targets, and determines whether a group or an individual should go after them.”

  “So, he tells people what to steal?”

  “Yeah.” Beck’s finger taps faster against the seat. “And some assignments aren’t stealing at all, like me being sent to Azeland to find out what happened to a missing member. But if you do steal something on assignment, the Guild keeps it, and you get a cut of the profit. You get paid up front when you join, plus the Guild can take care of clothes and food and whatever else you need.”

  “As an incentive for thieves to join? And give part of their profits to the Guild?”

  “Right. And there are other advantages too, like being able to team up with others to get items you couldn’t steal on your own. And when you’re not on assignment, you can pretty much do whatever you want.”

  I’m tempted to ask what exactly he means by “pretty much,” but there are too many other, more pressing questions at the moment. “So once you join, are you a member forever? For the rest of your life?”

  He hesitates. “Yes, for the most part. To leave the Guild is considered a sign of disloyalty. Rumor has it that the king has allowed certain members to leave under rare circumstances, but I’ve never known anyone who left.”

  “Does anyone ever, like, get kicked out? If they do something bad? Like betray the Guild?”

  Beck’s jaw tightens. “People can get kicked out, yes. But if you betray the Guild, they’ll do a lot worse than kick you out.”

  I’m pretty sure I know exactly what he means by “a lot worse.” I gulp. “Good to know. So what’s with this whole trial thing? When are we supposed to do this?”

  “People born in the Guild, like me, have to pass their trial when they turn thirteen. But for outsiders, they have to go through some basic training before their trial, to help them prepare. Then they’ll go see the king, and he’ll assign their trial.”

  “Um,” I say. I hold up my right hand. “I don’t exactly have time for a whole lot of training, Beck.”

  “I know. We’ll go see the steward right away when we get there, and I’ll make sure he sends you to see the king immediately.”

  I frown. “And why exactly didn’t you tell me about any of this training or trial or lifetime commitment stuff before now?”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  “What, you thought I’d just be totally fine with all this?”

  “Like you said, you don’t know for sure you’re joining,” he mumbles, his gaze falling to the floor. “But I thought you should at least see it for yourself. Besides . . .” He lowers his voice. “You don’t exactly have many options, Alli.”

  “That’s for me to decide,” I say. “You don’t get to withhold information, or decide what I do and don’t need to know.”

  We sit in silence for the rest of the flight.

  Beck keeps looking at me, like he’s waiting for me to say something. I ignore him and stare out the window. The view is much more interesting than whatever he has to say.

  I’ve seen the blue-gray shadows of the Elkany Mountains from a distance for my entire life, but I never knew they were so big. Their points stab at the sky, reaching higher than our flying carriage, higher even than the clouds. Up here, it’s like the sky is an illusion: not a solid, not a ceiling, but something you can pass through, like an ocean. The sturdiness of the mountains, on the other hand, makes even the storm clouds seem delicate in comparison.

  The largest mountain is in the center of the range, and I don’t need Beck to tell me which it is: Mount Arat. It gets bigger and bigger out the window. This is the first time I’ve ever seen it so close, the first time I’ve ever been outside of Azeland.

  I try to remember what little the Sisters said about Ruhia in history class, but I wasn’t paying much attention at the time. Sister Perla al
ways made a big deal out of Azeland’s Independence Day during Raumna’s Month, having us draw pictures of the national crest and decorate everything in Azelandian colors—red and gold. (Although the so-called gold was always just yellow.) According to her, Azeland declared its independence from Ruhia, who used to own it. I never really understood why anybody would want to own Azeland, but Sister Perla said Ruhia needed the land. Apparently the problem with building your city in a valley surrounded by mountains is that you can’t actually expand much when you need, say, farms. So Ruhia started using the farmland south of the mountains, which became Azeland.

  But Azeland kept growing bigger and bigger, until it became its own city. Eventually we realized that we didn’t really want the Ruhians telling us what to do, so we set up a government council with our own nobility instead of theirs, and now we have a holiday where we decorate in our colors to celebrate the time we told Ruhia to go away. Or something like that.

  Except we couldn’t actually tell Ruhia to go away, because they still have all the money. Ruhians became filthy rich ages ago when they started mining rare gems and stuff in the mountains, but Azeland has always been farmland and factories. We still sell lots of crops and things to Ruhia, and they still look down on us for being poor or whatever, so as far as I can tell not much has changed. (Sister Perla didn’t tell us the part about Ruhians looking down on us, but I met enough Ruhian kids at the orphanage to figure it out myself.)

  The problem is that the Sisters never told me anything useful about what Ruhia is actually like. I know it snows all the time, and they speak with an accent, and a lot of Ruhians are wealthier than most Azelanders and that’s why they don’t like us very much. But that’s all. I guess I never really cared, because I never thought I’d actually be going there. I could ask Beck, but I’m pretending to ignore him at the moment.

  I keep my eyes glued to the window.