Clockwork Thief Box Set
Page 1
Clockwork Thief
Books 1-3
Katherine Bogle
Patchwork Press
Copyright © 2019 by Katherine Bogle
http://katherinebogle .com
Cover Design by Ravenborn Covers
First Edition — 2019
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information browsing, storage, or retrieval system, without permission in writing from Katherine Bogle.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Queen of Thieves
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Daughter of Chaos
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
King of Empires
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Note from the Author
Chapter One
Join Kat’s Readers & Rebels
About the Author
Also by Katherine Bogle
W isps of long orange hair whipped Narra’s shoulders as she swung between the crumbling storefronts of Old Town. A shadow over the rooftops, she was invisible from the dim streetlights below. Good. She didn’t want her prey to see her coming.
Reaching the highest point of her arc, Narra’s heart leapt at her sudden weightlessness. Suspended twenty-feet above any semblance of ground, her fall could very well result in broken bones if not for her training. She slammed her thumb down on the release of her handheld grappling hook. The hook snapped free from a rusted pipe, the metal cord reeling in as she freefell. The roof of a stone library came up fast. Her heart hammered her ribs. Curling her arms over her head, Narra landed in a roll, returning to her feet in time for the hook to thud into her fist. Without breaking her momentum, she broke into a run.
A minefield of brick, cement, and rotten wood lay across the uneven cobblestone street below, creating a treacherous landscape, especially at night. The roofs of Old Town were her sanctuary from the street’s chaos, giving her a bird’s eye view of the five young men dodging between fallen beams, eaten away long ago by hungry termites. Each boy was between fifteen and twenty years old, fit, moderately intelligent and ready to join the Thieves. But one initiate slowed, lagging behind the others. He limped, cringing with each step.
She frowned. The whole point of Initiation Day at the Guild was to work as a team. They’d never pass her test like this.
Narra pushed herself harder, racing to the edge of the roof, the clay tiles clacking beneath her boots, before she lifted off. She sailed through the air, one with the wind. The current held her for one tranquil moment before her boots touched down on the flat expanse of the neighboring building. The roof dipped with each step, urging her to hurry, lest she fall into the dark depths of the warehouse below.
No more than fifteen feet ahead, she spied her prey. A smirk tugged at her lips, but disappeared as fast as it came.
She paused at the edge of the worn roof, catching her breath as she swept her hair behind her ear. Two-story, dark stone structures with crumbled entries and caved roofs lined each side of the street. The limping boy stopped, his hand rested against a fallen beam half buried in rubble. His chest heaved and he waved desperately for the others to slow down.
Narra sighed, her hot breath fogging the chill fall air. Did they deserve a second chance? If they could work together and get away, they might be Guild material after all. She bit her lip.
One more chance.
Her blue eyes cut to the throwing knives at the belt snuggly wrapping her hips. She plucked one from the six knife slots, and leapt to the next rooftop. The blade flew from her hand, a soft shing ringing out as it tore through the air. Thunk . It hit the wooden beam, cracking it in two. The limping boy cried out, startled off his feet.
Narra hid behind a brick chimney smudged with coal. She pressed her back against the stone, and it chilled her shoulders even through her cloak. She peeked from the shadows. Each boy took off in separate directions. Two headed north, one south, one continued west, and the one lagging, froze.
Narra quirked an irritated eyebrow. That was not teamwork .
A growl rose to her lips, but she quickly squashed it. There was no point in being angry. If they couldn’t pass her test, then they weren’t cut out for the Guild.
Narra tucked her hair back before walking the arched steeple of the roof. Old shingles warped under her feet, bare patches revealing mold-laden wood and a dark chasm into the vacant building. She stepped lightly, her fists tightening. Do not cave, she commanded the boards.
The boy below whimpered. No more than sixteen, his shaggy dark hair and bronze skin marked him as empire born. He slouched, wide eyes frantically glancing back and forth as he climbed to his feet.
“Guys!” he called. His fellow initiates didn’t answer. “Fellas!”
Narra stopped at the edge of the roof, tilting her head as she watched the fear creep across his features. She raised her grappling hook, its smooth plastic cold in her dry hand. She closed one eye, aiming for the dark metal arm of a lamppost several feet from her target. She hit the release. The hook shot from her hand, flung forward by a burst of compressed air. It hit its mark, swinging around the post’s arm several times until the claws shut with a clank.
The boy looked up, revealing foreign green eyes.
She jumped. Sailing through the open air, the thick metal cord retracted, pulling her faster and faster until she could see his pupils widen. Taking another dagger from her belt, she threw it.
The boy’s hands shot up to protect himself. He let out a pitiful cry, cowering against a cement block. But her dagger only cut his palm. A clean line welled with blood. By the time she landed, grappling hook r
etracting, the boy shook.
Narra took a few steps forward and he winced. He feared her—much like all the initiates did. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She hadn’t earned her place as one of the six Thief Commanders for nothing. Reaching past the boy’s shoulder, Narra grabbed her knife from a wooden beam. It had sunk deep and took a heavy tug to free. Returning it to its rightful place on her hip, Narra stepped away. Her boots moved soundlessly over fallen brick, cement and uneven cobblestone.
The whimpering boy quieted.
“That’s it?” his voice quivered.
Narra stopped walking. With her back to him she couldn’t see his relief, but she felt it in his voice and the slowing of his breath. She glanced back. The lamplight layered shadows over the street, drenching the young boy in dark angles.
“That’s it,” she said. Narra turned and left.
Narra perched on the rusted fire escape of an old brick apartment building after taking care of the rest of the boy’s team. Glass littered the surrounding street even with most of the windows boarded up. The night was still young, and she had initiates to hunt. Taking a moment to clean her bloody daggers, Narra wiped the knives along a rag from her back pocket. Holding each to the lamplight below, she inspected them one by one for imperfections.
A soft squeak broke her concentration. Her heart leapt. Narra whirled so fast the man behind her had hardly a moment to dodge the dagger she flung. It clanged uselessly against the metal railing, and fell to the cobblestone street, leaving her staring at her childhood friend and fellow thief.
“Erik.” Her eyebrow twitched. He was supposed to be handling the south side of Old Town while she patrolled the north. Though the empire had long since grown, expanding into the rest of Rova City, Old Town continued to stand centuries later, a dark and vacant reminder of what happened when a progressive emperor took charge.
“Trying to kill me?” Erik flashed a toothy grin, dimpling his cheeks.
“You know not to sneak up on me.”
“I couldn’t help myself,” he said. “I rarely get a chance to surprise you.”
Narra shrugged. Her father had trained her nearly since birth. It was almost impossible to sneak up on her, let alone escape her daggers. It spoke to Erik’s own abilities that he could almost do both.
“Shouldn’t you be stalking the Pocks?” she asked. The pickpockets were one of the teams she had low expectations for. They hadn’t grasped the meaning of teamwork yet, and it was disappointing really. They had a few promising members.
“They’re already out,” he said.
“So are the Picks.” The Lockpicks hadn’t fared any better.
Erik snapped his fingers. “Damn! I was rooting for them.”
Narra shot him a doubtful look.
“Okay, okay, maybe I wasn’t.”
“You lost the other teams, haven’t you?” There had to be a reason he was invading her part of town—not that she didn’t appreciate the company. Initiation Day was sacred to the Guild, and always reminded her of her own initiation. She hoped he was taking it seriously.
“Why would you think that?” Erik’s grin dropped.
“You’re here trying to catch me off guard instead of watching your prey.”
“Pish posh,” Erik scoffed, looking indignant for a second before his grin returned along with his laugh. He shook his head, the olive skin around his eyes crinkling. She never understood how he found her so amusing. Most ran in fear, just like the Picks had. “You know me too well.”
“I should get back,” she said. One of them had to take this seriously.
“All business.” He smiled. He understood what tonight meant to her. “See you in Halden Square?”
Narra nodded. The starting point to their little game, Halden Square, would be the meeting spot after each team gathered their flag from the opposite side of the city. If they made it back before dawn without getting caught by Narra or Erik, they’d be welcomed as full members of the Guild. If they failed, they’d stay initiates until they passed her test next year.
“Later.” Erik waved, before scaling the fire escape to the roof. The metal rungs clanged loudly with each drop of his boots.
Narra glared at his shadow as he disappeared over the roof’s edge. He was about as quiet as a crow during mating season. It was time to return to her duty. With only three teams left, would any of them make it through the night?
The roar of an explosion broke the quiet of Old Town. Her attention snapped to the south where flames licked the tops of stone homes a few miles away. Dark smoke rose into the night sky, obscuring the stars.
“Boomers .” Her fists clenched.
Grabbing the cold iron ladder attached to the apartment building, Narra scaled the rusted metal. Erik stood outlined against the growing glow several blocks away. Hands on his hips, he scowled.
“Emperor’s ancestors!” he cursed. “I leave the south side for five minutes !”
“Come on,” Narra said, tapping him with the back of her hand before she let her grappling hook loose. It careened across the street, lodging in the crumbled old chimney of a two-story townhouse in a row of identical homes. Narra ran for the lip of the roof, and leapt from its edge. The snap of another hook told her Erik followed.
Narra swung wide, coming up a few inches shy of the neighboring building. Her pulse raced with the thrill of it. Wind tore through her hair, and her stomach flipped from her quick descent. She hit the retract button and a jerk from the cord swung her closer. Her boots hit the worn black shingles, and they crumbled beneath her feet. Heart hammering her ribs, she took off running.
Erik’s boots slammed behind her. She shot him a narrow-eyed be quiet look over her shoulder. He grinned sheepishly, slowing to step more lightly.
They repeated the jump, the hook, the swing, and the landing three more times before Narra stopped on the apex of a semi-demolished shop. She stepped over the pieces of remaining wood, careful not to make any noise. Heat scorched her skin even from across the narrow street. She squinted into the blaze, which climbed over the rooftops, lighting every piece of once termite-ridden wood aflame .
“Points for creativity,” Erik huffed as he landed on the roof behind her. He ran a hand through his short brown locks, scratching the back of his head. “But this isn’t exactly subtle. Patrolmen and the fire brigade will be on their way.”
Narra nodded. This was going to cause a much bigger stir than was safe for the Guild. Even if it was a smart move, it was reckless, and they shouldn’t have done it, even to secure a spot with the Thieves.
“We should split up and find them,” Narra said.
“With that bit of distraction, there’s no way they haven’t grabbed their flag already.”
“Then we’ll look for the others.” Narra turned northwest, a warm flash of irritation lashing her chest.
“I’ll see if I can cut them off before Halden Square.”
Narra nodded before taking off.
The charred old embassy building blocked out the surrounding stars. Stone blocks had fallen from the once strong walls, laying waste to the chiselled pillars lining the entry. Narra stared up at it, hands on her hips. Six flagpoles stood in a row just outside the carnage, blackened from the flames that had once destroyed the western part of Old Town. The fire had been before her time—at least thirty years ago, a few years before her birth. Not a single international flag hung from its rungs, and only two Thief faction flags remained; one, a white flag with the black silhouette of a lock pick set, and the other, a red flag with a black hand reaching for two silver rovin coins. Each flag represented two of the factions who would not receive any new members that day. The lock picks and the pickpockets had been caught—but what of the other three? The Boomers were smart, and fast. They worked well together. They very well could have sent men ahead to grab the flag while others caused the distraction.
At least one group was getting along. Turning from the remains of the once proud structure, Narra let her grappling hook loos
e.
Sirens rose in the distance, piercing the quiet. Patrolmen. Her heartbeat sped, and she ground her teeth. Ancestors , what on earth were they thinking? Initiation Day was supposed to be a secret, not a free-for-all. The Boomers would be lucky if their commander didn’t have their heads for this.
Flying over the rooftops, black smoke dusted Old Town’s shopping district. It flowed south with the wind, catching the neighboring buildings on fire. She cursed the Boomers. If they had chosen a warehouse further south, the fire might not have spread, and the Patrolmen may have taken longer to arrive. Her fists clenched. With the blaze in the center of Old Town, half the city guard would be out investigating.
Narra headed east, the scent of smoke thick in the air. She skirted the growing blaze, sirens, and distant shouts. Several steamwagons toting large water barrels drove beneath her, their metal frames swaying over the uneven cobblestone. They’d have a hard time getting to the fire. Small blessings.
Several blocks over, a large empty courtyard came into view, an old fountain in the middle with the statue of an old deity at its center. The god Srah, with long golden curls brushing his wide shoulders, and a muscular stone physique. He held a sword in one hand, while the other had been broken off, leaving a rocky stump. She wasn’t sure if she believed in gods, divine punishment, or ancestors’ blessings, but Halden Square held a special place in her heart. It was where she’d first met Erik almost eighteen years ago.
“There she is!” the voice of a fellow thief whispered on the breeze.
Narra dropped into the wide square, her grappling hook retracting with a thunk . She brushed her long hair back over her shoulder, the wind blowing it around with her cloak. It’d be more practical to braid it down her spine, but there was nothing like the feeling of wind teasing her hair as she soared over Rova City.
Across the worn cobblestone thirteen initiates waited—five Boomers, six Shadows, and two Brains—the next generation of thieves. Erik waited nearby with a wide grin. He motioned adamantly, congratulating each of them. Several sets of eyes flitted to her stony expression. A few bristled, three froze, and one paled. Was she really that terrifying?
“Thirteen,” she said, stopping beside her best friend.