A door creaked open and they pulled her towards it.
“Where are you taking me?” she whispered. Her throat ached, and her tongue was dry. She licked her lips, but she had no saliva to moisten them.
The men marched faster and her boot knocked against something solid. A doorframe maybe? She twisted her wrists—still shackled.
“Answer me,” she demanded.
Their fingers dug into her arms. Her breath flew from her chest, and her shoulder caught fire. The pressure on her arms left and her back hit the floor hard. She gritted her teeth and sat on her heels as fast as she could. Her world spun as she grabbed the rough burlap. She yanked it from her skull and looked up—just in time for a wooden door to slam in her face.
“Ancestors ,” she hissed, tossing the burlap aside.
Her head spun. Narra sat back on worn oak flooring. Nothing but bare, dark stone walls, a door, and a wooden stool sat several feet away. Wonderful . Inching back to the wall, she leaned against the cool stone. It soothed her sore shoulder, but did nothing for the burning agony. She needed to get her arm back in its socket, but it’d be difficult to do alone.
Footsteps stole her thoughts. She had more important things to worry about, like who in Srah’s name were these people, and what did they want from her? If they were from the Guild, they’d have brought her back to it, not whatever place this was.
Mumbled words drifted through the door. She cocked her head. What were they saying? Something about her? Narra inched off the wall. Her shoulder screamed and she sat back hard. Her eyes watered. She needed to get to the door. Her breathing grew labored and she clamped down on the pain. She knew what she had to do.
Pulling away from the wall, Narra bit down on her broken lip as she climbed to her knees. Her lip stung and her shoulder howled. With her shackled hands she couldn’t hold up her injured arm. Climbing to her feet, she took deep breaths.
“Do not faint,” she commanded herself. Her legs shook and her knees threatened to buckle. More footsteps outside. More voices. She had to know what was happening.
She inched a foot forward. Yes, she could do this. Only six feet, maybe seven.
Be strong, Narra .
She shook her head. She didn’t need her father’s voice now. She didn’t. Her eyes stung with tears as she trudged across the room. Each bit of movement jostled her injury, sending knives through her shoulder.
“I can’t believe we’re going to waste supplies on that thieving wench,” a man mumbled near the door. She stopped. Still a foot away, at least she could make out their words. She inched forward.
“What Marina wants, Marina gets,” said another.
Narra started. Marina? It was neither typical, nor a popular name in the Rovan Empire. Did they mean Princess Marina Kolarova? She stepped back. What did the emperor’s daughter have to do with this? Who were these people?
“She has to have a good reason for saving a street rat,” the man continued.
Rat ? Narra bared her teeth at the door.
“Still. Why this one?” the first asked.
“I don’t know.”
Narra blinked quickly as a wave of dizziness hit her. She tried to pull the barren, swirling room back into place, her stomach roiling with unease.
Delicate heels clacked against the wood outside. Someone was coming. Narra shifted away from the door, her heart racing as she inspected the room. If only she had a weapon, at least if their motives were nefarious she could defend herself. Aside from the stool, nothing stood out against the dim light. The lantern that hung from the ceiling was too high to reach. She didn’t very well want to set the room on fire either.
She growled in frustration as a wave of dizziness hit her. Even if she had a weapon, she’d never be able to fight like this. No, she had to bide her time, and see what her captor’s wanted. Then, when she had her head on straight, she’d fight.
Heading back to the wall adjacent to the door, Narra took a seat and propped her aching body against the cold stone. She needed medicine, food, water, and sleep. Above all, she craved rest .
Mumbles continued outside the room. Keys jingled and the door creaked open.
A woman with beautiful brown curls, hazel eyes, and flawless olive skin stood in the doorway. Marina. Narra swallowed around a lump in her throat. Her chest heated and tightened. If her limbs weren’t drained of energy, she’d have shifted uncomfortably.
Marina’s eyes went wide and she spun back to face the guards. “What on earth have you done to her?” Her voice was high, and her fists shook.
The man standing on the left side of the door blanched and gaped at the princess.
“N-Nothing, Your Highness,” he said.
“Bring a Talcotta salve at once!” Marina commanded.
The guard nodded and sprinted down the hall. Narra’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. If they had a Talcotta salve, a healing agent used only by the assassins native to the tundra country, why would they waste it on her?
“My apologies—” Marina turned to face Narra again, and paused. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to call you.”
Narra searched her face for deceit, or maybe a damn explanation, but Marina’s eyes were wide like almonds, her lashes thick, and her dark eyebrows turned up. She appeared concerned, but Narra couldn’t help but be suspicious.
Trust no one .
A rule not only taught by her father, but the Guild as well. Trust could mean death. Then why did she find herself wanting to trust this beautiful woman?
“They still have you shackled,” Marina said when Narra didn’t answer.
Narra glanced down at the thick metal cuffs trapping her wrists. Beneath them her skin was red and sore. She shifted and regretted it. Pain shot through her shoulder, bringing with it a new wave of agony and dizziness. Clamping down on her lip, Narra tried to rein it all in. Rein in her emotions, her pain, her uncertainty—she had to think rationally, logically, like a thief .
Marina darted forward. Her thick velvet gown swayed with her movements and pooled at her knees as she crouched beside Narra.
“Your shoulder,” Marina gasped. Her long, thin fingers reached for Narra’s bare shoulder, now purple with bruising. Her forehead creased, and her plump lower lip quivered slightly.
Marina was genuinely concerned for her. She didn’t know Narra, hadn’t even seen her before this day. Why would she care? Why should she? She owed Narra nothing. But if what the guards outside said was true, Marina was the one who saved her life. Why did she stop the hanging? Why take her like this? Questions circled her mind until her world spun again.
“We need to put it back in the socket,” Narra murmured.
Marina met her gaze. The princess nodded, her jaw set. “What do I do?”
Narra inspected the lines of Marina’s face, the genuine concern in her eyes. She’d have to trust Marina, at least for now. “I’m going to hold my arm out at a ninety degree angle. I need you to firmly grasp my wrist and pull,” Narra explained. Her heartbeat quickened and her fists closed. She shut her eyes, extended her arm, and braced herself for pain.
“All right,” Marina said. Soft fingers probed her wrist before closing tightly. Her long nails dug into Narra’s skin, but the small sting was nothing compared to the burn of her shoulder. “Are you ready?”
Narra sighed softly. “Yes.”
“Here I go.”
Every muscle in her body tensed. She waited and waited. Hurry , she thought. Fire licked her shoulder. Only a few seconds of agony and it’d all be over.
Marina’s grip tightened and she pulled.
Blackness took her.
“Miss?” a soft voice whispered through the black. “Miss? ”
Narra shook. With the fire in her shoulder gone, winter’s embrace swallowed her. Icy claws raked her back. She shivered.
“Miss?” Hot breath warmed her cheek.
Her lids fluttered open. Dim light flooded the bare room. Marina’s bronze lips smiled down at her.
“Go
od, you’re awake.” Marina sighed softly, and sat back.
“I fainted,” Narra realized aloud. She lay on her side, cold stone at her back and worn wood against her cheek.
“You did,” Marina confirmed, her hazel eyes watchful as Narra lay still.
Narra shifted her shoulder. Instead of burning, it ached. “It worked,” she said. She sat up slowly, and when her world didn’t tilt, she leaned back against the wall.
“I’m happy to hear it.”
Knuckles wrapped against the door.
“Your Majesty?” a hesitant voice mumbled.
“Enter,” Marina said, turning to greet the guard.
The wooden slab creaked open, revealing a Rovan man, clad in black. His eyes narrowed at Narra before his gaze slid to the princess. He stepped inside, his heavy footsteps familiar. He handed Marina a small, purple clay pot. It was round at the bottom and curved up to meet the mouth blocked with a glass spigot.
“The salve,” he said.
“Thank you.” Marina smiled and took the pot. “The key for her restraints as well, please.” The guard sighed and dug a large metal key from his pocket before handing it to the princess. Marina nodded her goodbye.
The man gave Narra one last suspicious look before disappearing into the hall. The door shut behind him. Marina took the key first, slipping it inside each lock. They clicked free and the heavy metal dropped to the floor. With the weight gone, Narra twisted her wrists, glad to be free of them.
“This should help with the bruises.” Marina opened the bottle and poured the purple cream into her palm. The pungent smell of winterberries filled the room and Narra wrinkled her nose .
“Why did you save me?” Narra asked. Marina halted, two fingers dipped in the cream. She met Narra’s blue gaze.
“We should heal your wounds first,” Marina said. Narra levelled her a look . Though her entire body ached, she had to know. She couldn’t trust Marina until she knew. Marina sighed in defeat and lowered her hands to her lap. “I need your help.”
Her help?
“You’re the emperor’s daughter… why would you need my help?” Narra quirked an eyebrow. Marina’s lips curved pleasantly.
“Not just me, but the Revolution,” Marina said. Determination settled in her gaze. “We may not want the same things, but I think a new regime could benefit us both.”
“A new regime?”
Marina smiled and held up the cream. If she wanted answers, Narra would have to play along. Narra nodded and Marina scooted forward, her knees brushing Narra’s thigh. Laying the salve in her lap, Marina took Narra’s hand. Her fingers were soft, decorated with thin metal bands and red jewels. She turned Narra’s wrist up and gently applied the cream to her raw flesh. The salve chilled her skin. It wasn’t overall unpleasant; in fact, the cooling sensation was rather nice. Marina lathered a thin layer of purple over the wound, until the red of her skin was completely covered.
“We want to depose my father. The time for war mongering emperors is over,” Marina continued. “I want to have an elected official, maybe working with some sort of council. That way, even the most impoverished have a say.”
Narra watched Marina’s fingers as they glided over her other wrist, sending sparks up her arm. Once she was done there, she worked her way to Narra’s shoulder, replacing the dark purple bruise with sweet violet.
“That is what the Revolution wants.” Marina paused. “It’s what I want. I don’t want my sisters taking my father’s place. We might very well have another Century of Blood if they did.” Her plump lips pressed into a firm line.
Interesting . Narra didn’t know much about this revolution, but she’d never imagined someone as influential as the princess was involved. There was much more to this than she’d first realized.
The cold of the salve soothed the heat that had built in Narra’s shoulder. She leaned her head back against the wall. “If all the rebels want is a revolution, why blow up North Station?”
Marina froze and her gaze snapped up to meet Narra’s. “That wasn’t us.”
Narra shot her a disbelieving look. Marina sighed and shook her head, continuing her work on Narra’s shoulder.
“Then who was it?” Narra’s heart beat faster. Would Marina know? If the Revolution hadn’t blown up the train, who could it have been? Maybe they killed her father.
“I don’t know,” Marina admitted. Narra’s heart sank. “But we’ve been trying to find out. There was something my father wanted aboard that train, something that could change the face of this rebellion. No one could find it when the train was stopped. I’m not sure what it is, but it could be what we need to win without bloodshed.”
“You don’t know what it is.”
“I know.” Marina finished with her shoulder, which remained pleasantly cool. “But I’ll keep looking regardless.” Her hazel eyes lit as she stared off into nothing. Her sculpted cheekbones softened under the dim light, and her bronze skin glowed.
Narra admired her determination, as misplaced as it may be. “Rheka.”
Marina snapped from her thoughts and looked at Narra. “Your name?”
“Yes.”
Marina smiled so widely the corners of her eyes crinkled. “Rheka. A beautiful name.”
Narra blinked in surprise, losing control of her expression for a moment. Marina laughed softly and reached for Narra’s face. Narra leaned back instinctively, but with the stone wall pressing into her spine, there was nowhere to go. Cool salve touched her jaw. Oh. Marina gently massaged cream onto her cheeks, which burned with blush. Even the cold wasn’t enough to bury her embarrassment .
“Almost done,” Marina murmured, her thumb brushing Narra’s split lip, parting them gently.
Narra couldn’t move as her heart hammered her ribs. What in Srah’s name was happening to her? She closed her mouth, not trusting herself to speak. Instead, she cleared her throat and nodded. A moment later Marina’s thumb was gone and the princess sat back. Narra’s heartbeat slowed and her labored breathing returned to normal. Only her flush remained.
“There. You should see marked improvement in a few hours.”
Only a few hours? “Thank you,” Narra said.
“It was the least I could do.”
Silence stretched between them as Marina set the small pot aside and wiped her hands together to dissolve the rest of the salve into powder.
Something occurred to Narra suddenly, dissipating the remainder of her embarrassment, and returning her calculated mind.
“What is it you want from me?” Narra asked.
“You’re a thief, Rheka. Is that right?” Marina raised an eyebrow.
Narra blinked in surprise. So saving her life was about her thievery, nothing more. Even so, how would the princess know when she was tried for murder? Her stomach soured. Why did it matter how she knew? Narra owed her a life debt. How could she ever repay that?
“I thought as much.” Marina smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I need you to do what you do best, Rheka. I want you to help me save this empire in the one way I know how.”
“How is that?”
“I want you to steal the crown.”
T he wooden door slammed open with a crack . Narra opened her eyes slowly, fog hanging heavy on her brain. After Marina had given her the salve, she’d had her guards bring food, water, a basin to wash in, a mirror, and a fresh shirt. Not long after eating, Narra had fallen asleep curled against the wall. The rebels were clearly not happy she continued to remain after Marina gave Narra permission to leave.
A surly-faced Rovan man entered, his dark eyes roaming the room before landing on her. He didn’t bother hiding his glare as he set a plate of cheeses and bread on the floor, followed by a glass of water. Narra sat up, meeting his stare with a cold look of her own until he backed out of the room. Without a word, he closed the door again, leaving her in silence. Sighing, Narra leaned against the wall. The stone cooled her back even through the thick black cotton. The long-sleeved shirt clung
to her bosom and midriff, the loose collar hanging around her throat. She was happy to be clean again. She’d applied the salve several times after Marina left, leaving her face mostly bruise free aside from the stubborn purple around one eye and the yellowing of her cheek.
Sliding across the floor, Narra scooped up the typical Rovan breakfast, downing the cheese and bread in a few gulps. She was still hungry from all the energy exerted during her mission, subsequent beatings, hanging, and escape. It felt like days since she’d last eaten, and maybe it had been. She’d started to lose track of time.
Once the water was gone she ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing out the knots. A cloak hung on a nail by the door, ready for her to head home at any time. Marina assured her she could leave whenever she was ready.
Picking herself up off the floor, Narra swung on the thick black cloak. With no snaps at her shoulders, she clipped it together at her neck. It would do until she got home.
But did she want to go home? She wrinkled her nose. At home she’d have to face Erik, and possibly Alden. They’d want to know how she was doing, what happened with the mission, and why she hadn’t been home in two days. It wasn’t like her to stay away this long, and her presence would not go unnoticed.
Then there was the matter of Marina’s proposal. To take the crown would be suicide on her own. She’d have to prepare, enlist others more experienced in thievery than Marina’s rebels. But who could she trust with this? Erik, certainly. She twisted her lip between her teeth, happy it no longer stung at the touch. If she brought Erik he would constantly worry for her, maybe even put himself in danger. She couldn’t allow that.
Narra shook her head and opened the door. Outside, two nearly identical men in black clothing narrowed their eyes. She smoothed her expression back to the emotionless glare she was known for.
“Where is Marina?” she asked.
“The princess is indisposed at the moment,” one of them growled. “She will be in touch.”
Clockwork Thief Box Set Page 9