Clockwork Thief Box Set

by Katherine Bogle

  Her message had to be short, succinct, and filled with as much menace as she could manage. And she only had a few minutes to deliver it.

  Narra took the bowl in both hands. Her eyebrows furrowed. She was surprised by its weight. Shaking her head, she walked to the back wall, careful to balance the bowl without spilling a drop. She set it on a seat meant for the choir, and mounted the wooden chair so she could get a higher angle.

  Narra took a deep breath before she dipped her fingers in the thick blood. It was cold and slick on her fingers. She shivered and swallowed the lump in her throat before she wrote her message to the Goddess of Death.

  THE NEXT EMPEROR OF ROVA WILL FACE LADY DEATH’S WRATH.

  It wasn’t exactly subtle, but it was true. Marina had crossed the wrong thief, and now she was going to pay. Whether it be by her hand, or one of the Daughters of Ashra, she would face Lady Death’s wrath, and the Harbinger of Chaos had never been one to go easy on her victims.

  Narra stepped back to admire her handiwork. The blood curved around to form each word, thin lines where her fingers traced. She took the rag from her back pocket and wiped her hands clean. By the time she’d returned the golden bowl to the podium, the mumble of voices permeated the front doors of the cathedral .

  Her heart leapt and she quickly disappeared into the shadows. She scaled the ladder at the back of the church into the rafters and crouched on a thick wooden beam. From her height, the message below was even more menacing splayed between the open hands of Srah.

  A pleased smile twisted her lips, and she looked back at the doors to the cathedral as they creaked open. She wanted to witness the reactions of those who would find her message. She wanted to see Marina’s face twist in horror upon the sight of it. Would Marina take her seriously after this? Or would she continue to discredit her?

  The doors were pushed inward, and the casket of the emperor was carried half way down the aisle before someone gasped and the dozen or so people who’d entered froze.

  Marina was among them. Her eyes flew wide and her mouth dropped open.

  “What is the meaning of this?” someone shouted.

  Marina had yet to tear her eyes away from Narra’s message. Narra inspected the rest of them to see anger and fear on their faces.

  “Who would do such a thing?” a woman whispered next to Marina. She wasn’t dressed quite as elegantly, and Narra had to assume she was one of Marina’s handmaidens.

  “One of the rebels,” Marina said. The others turned to face her. She took a deep breath, seeming to get her wits about her. “Surely one of them must have prepared this scene.”

  Narra narrowed her eyes. Marina knew this was no act of the Revolution she had once led. From the wary look taking over Marina’s face, and the way she glanced into every shadow, Narra had a feeling Marina knew exactly who had done this.

  As more people arrived on the scene, gasps and shouts of outrage filled the halls of the grand cathedral.

  That’s all Narra had wanted to see, and now that she had, she took off out the same window she’d come from. She’d delivered her ultimatum, pledged her allegiance to a Death God, and now she’d wait. She hoped it wouldn’t be long before Ria came for her again. She was looking forward to meeting the Lady of Death.

  W ith no way to contact the Daughters on her own, Narra would be forced to wait. But for how long?

  Wind tore her hood from her shoulders as she breezed through the Shopping District, heading back in the direction of home. She needed something to occupy her mind in the meantime. There was no telling how many hours or days it’d be until Ria contacted her again. She could return to killing soldiers, do some reconnaissance with Avalon, or she could continue her search for her uncle.

  Narra stopped on the clay shingles of a bookstore. She stared at her boots, her eyebrows furrowing. The last time she’d spoken to her uncle, she might as well have told him she hated him and never wanted to see him again. She’d run away, and left him behind thinking she didn’t care about him.

  Though he had killed her father, she understood now why he’d done it. Her father had stolen so much more from the Guild than she’d ever thought. Hundreds of contracts, missions, and money . It wasn’t just the things he’d stolen though, it was the trust she’d put in him. It was all gone because he couldn’t help keeping the position of power he was never meant to have in the first place .

  As Alden had said, her mother had wanted her to be the next Guild Master, but Quinn had never given her that chance. There was so much she could have done for the Guild by now.

  Narra bit the inside of her cheek. No matter what Alden had done, she missed him, and she wanted him back in her life. But it had been days since anyone had seen the man, and she was running out of places to look. Even if he hated her for the things she’d said and done, she just wanted to know he was safe.

  Taking a deep breath, Narra steeled her resolve. She’d never be able to concentrate enough for killing or reconnaissance. Today she’d look for her uncle and hopefully find something about his whereabouts.

  Narra turned back toward the gray sky and shot her grappling hook at the next building over. She leapt from the roof’s lip and headed toward the nearest bar she could think of.

  Hours later, she’d come up with nothing.

  No one had seen her uncle since before the Thieves were taken away. No one knew where he’d gone, or when he might return. It was the most frustrating thing she’d ever dealt with, next to Marina stealing the entire Thieves Guild.

  Narra tilted her head up to the sky and groaned. She leaned against the alley between a bar and an old, crumbling apartment building. Her body ached, and her mind swam with useless options on what to do or where to go next.

  Why had Alden fled like this? Why abandon her? Though she’d said some harsh things, she’d been harsh with her uncle before, and he knew not to take her too seriously. Only this time, she’d mostly meant what she said. She’d been so angry with him for killing her father, and she didn’t think she could ever forgive him.

  Only the loss of everyone she held dear left a gaping hole in her chest that she desperately wanted to fill. She’d forgiven Alden the moment she’d found the room her father had hidden from her. She understood why he’d killed his own brother. He’d done it for her, and for the Guild. How could she not forgive him for that?

  Narra put her face in her hands. She wanted to scream, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to bring herself any extra attention.

  Letting her hands fall to her side, she stared at the darkness of the night sky. She wasn’t sure when night had fallen, but it layered shadows across the streets that made her feel much safer and far more protected than she’d care to admit.

  Narra turned from the alley and walked onto the street. There was one more bar she could stop and check before she went home for the night. It was on the way, and the owner would not be happy to see her, but he would see her nonetheless.

  Taking the street to her destination instead of the rooftops, Narra slipped in through the back door of Nedan Inn.

  Nedan Junior, or Jin as most called him, wasn’t inside the kitchen as she had expected. From the ruckus beyond the swinging door to the bar, she assumed he was bartending as usual.

  That was fine. She could wait.

  Narra closed the door behind her and returned her lock picks to the pocket on her thigh. She inspected the kitchen, which was kept far less clean than her uncle’s always was. The cook had already gone home for the night and a pile of dirty dishes lay in the deep bronze sink. She wondered if they were left for Jin or for some sort of dishwasher he kept in his employ.

  The swinging door squeaked open, and warm light filtered through the doorway. Narra looked up in time to see it shut before she came face to face with Jin. Last time they’d met, she’d threatened him and used him to find Mikael Ruvand, who’d turned out to be Taron Mikyle—former Thief Commander, and currently exiled from Rova City.

  This of course was right before she’
d caused a riot in his bar by allowing Asher to follow her inside. Looking back on it, she couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid.

  “Rheka,” Jin gasped, and backpedalled toward the door .

  She held up her hands to show she wasn’t holding any weapons. “I’m only here to ask you a few questions.”

  Jin got over his shock quickly, and growled through his bared teeth. “You have some nerve coming back here.”

  Narra’s lips quirked. Nerve was something she’d never been in short supply of.

  “Indeed,” was all she said.

  Jin looked at her hands, and then back at the door. When his gaze returned to hers, he let out a heavy sigh and swiped a hand through his hair. “What do you want?”

  “Have you seen Alden recently?” she asked, not wasting any time.

  Jin’s eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head. “Not since last week when we grabbed a drink after hours.”

  The hope inside her deflated, and a chill ran down her spine. Alden and Jin had been friends for years, and if he hadn’t seen her uncle, then she truly had no idea where he’d gone.

  “Did he say anything about taking a trip?” she tried anyway.

  Jin shrugged. “Not that I remember.”

  Ancestors . Narra sighed and lowered her hands. “Well, thanks anyway.”

  Jin took a step forward and reached out like he might try and stop her. He froze, seeming to think better of it, and let his hand fall back to his side. “Is Alden in trouble?”

  Narra inspected his face. His forehead was wrinkled, and his eyes had darkened. He looked like he was worried, though Narra was never the best at reading emotions.

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly.

  Jin nodded sadly. “All right.”

  Narra paused by the door. A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she realized it had been a long time since she’d asked Jin to enlist street urchins for information. It wouldn’t be cheap, especially after their last encounter, but given Jin was a friend of her uncle, he’d be far more motivated to help her than usual.

  “Jin,” she said.

  He looked up, a question in his eyes .

  “I’d like to pay you to find information on my uncle,” she said, then paused. “And I’d like to know what’s happening with the Thieves, and the prophet the religious zealots took to the palace last night.”

  Jin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “That’s a tall order.”

  Narra smirked and shrugged. It was a lot more than she normally asked for, especially if she wanted information directly from the palace.

  “It’ll cost you,” he continued.

  “I suspected as much.” Narra snapped open the zipper on her belt pocket and produced a small bag of silver rovin coins. They were worth triple what their bronze counterparts were worth, and should fund her little venture ten times over.

  Jin’s eyes widened at the sight of it. He reached out, and Narra placed it on the palm of his hand.

  “I’ll come back to check on your progress soon,” Narra said, giving him a meaningful look.

  Jin’s jaw hardened and he nodded brusquely. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Narra gave him one last look before she went back into the night, embracing the safety of shadows once more.

  Narra returned home with a heavy heart. She’d hoped to find something out about her uncle, but still she was left with nothing. No word on how he was doing, or where he’d gone. For all intents and purposes, he’d disappeared.

  She sighed as she flung the locks to her vault-like door shut, sealing it behind her for the night. Though now she knew it wasn’t the only entrance and exit to the apartment, she still felt safer behind its thick metal than she did outside.

  The creak of floorboards had her spinning to face the kitchen, her revolver already in hand. Narra cranked the safety off and pointed it at the shadowed hallway .

  “Who’s there?” she snapped.

  She was getting quite tired of strangers showing up in the one place she was supposed to be safe from everything.

  Narra peered into the darkness of the hall as a shadow emerged from the others, stepping into the faint light cast from a lamp she’d left on in the kitchen.

  “Good evening,” Ria said. Her wide lips twisted into a menacing smile, only made more sinister by the orange light of the lamp.

  “Ria,” Narra breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s only you.”

  Ria chuckled darkly. “Only me?”

  Narra barely resisted rolling her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  The Daughter smiled and shook her head. “Do you know why I’m here?”

  Narra nodded. “You received my message.”

  Ria dipped her chin. “Yes, we did.”

  Narra’s heart raced with anticipation and fear for whatever came next. “And?”

  Ria grinned, flashing white teeth in the dark. “So eager.”

  Anger flared through her. “Just get on with it.”

  “As you wish.” Ria turned to lead the way back to her father’s room, and looked over her shoulder. “Lady Death will see you now.”

  L ady Death would see her now? Like the actual Goddess of the Underworld?

  Narra stared at Ria as if she’d just sprouted three heads. The woman had to be crazy. Narra had known it all along, and yet she’d ignored the signs.

  Ria stopped when Narra didn’t follow, and looked over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”

  Narra shifted from foot to foot, unease turning her stomach. “Where to?”

  Ria’s eyes darkened with irritation, and she turned back to the thief. “I just told you.”

  “You expect me to believe you’re taking me to meet the real Ashra?”

  Ria smiled. “No, I don’t expect that at all.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And you’ll continue to be ignorant until you listen to me,” Ria challenged.

  Narra bit her lip to stop an annoyed growl. She had no thieves left to watch her back. She had no one to inform of her whereabouts before leaving, not that Ria had actually told her where they were going. She didn’t like this, not one bit.

  Ria sighed and flicked her cloak over her shoulder before producing a vial of swirling red liquid. She held it out for Narra. “Take this.”

  Narra took it and inspected its contents. It reminded her a little too much of the concoction at the Dollhouse she’d visited with Asher. “What is it?”

  “A potion,” Ria said.

  “Obviously.”

  “Drink it and I’ll take you to see Ashra. Don’t, and I’ll kill you here and now.” Ria’s voice dropped menacingly. “I don’t like wasting my time, Narra.”

  She had to be kidding. What was with people and giving her mysterious drinks? And why did she keep on taking them, or at least considering it? In this case, her options were extremely limited. Take the potion or fight an assassin to the death. Though she’d gotten over her qualms about killing, she had no idea what kind of power Ria held inside that lithe form of hers. She could very well best Narra, and the Thieves would be doomed.

  Emperor’s Ancestors . Why did the entire world insist on working against her?

  Instead of screaming into her hands like she was sorely tempted to, Narra flicked off the cork of the vial with her thumbnail, and swallowed the liquid in one gulp. It was bitter like unsweetened chocolate and sour like lemons. Her face twisted, and she scowled at Ria.

  “That’s disgusting,” Narra said.

  Ria laughed. “I remember.”

  Narra shook her head, and suddenly the narrow hall tilted in one direction and then the other. Her stomach lurched with nausea, and she reached out to catch herself on the wall. She’d never know if her fingers hit the worn wood, as she fell into darkness seconds later.

  Narra awoke to the smell of smoke and sage wafting up her nostrils. Warmth caressed her shoulders and squeezed like a lover’s embrace. She hummed softly at the nice feeling, and wrapped her arms tighter around her chest.
She could never remember feeling so warm, so cozy.

  Something light like feathers brushed her cheek, and her eyelashes fluttered open. Dark violet smoke twisted around her, and darkness lurked in every corner. The stone wall of a cellar was pressed against her back. Somehow it wasn’t cool to the touch despite being underground.

  Narra’s eyebrows furrowed as she slowly unfurled her arms and sat up. Memories flooded in of her encounter with Ria, and the strange, disgusting potion she’d drank.

  Where the hell was she?

  She expected her world to tilt as she swung her legs over the edge of the narrow twin bed, and her mind to be thick with haze, but instead everything was as clear as day.

  Her surroundings were another matter. Mist curled around her ankles. She couldn’t see the floor it was so thick. Though there was a violet glow emanating from somewhere, lighting the center of the room, she couldn’t find its source.

  Images of the Dollhouse flashed before her eyes and she shook her head to be rid of them. In her drugged out haze, she’d seen, heard, and felt strange things, and she found herself expecting the same now. Only things weren’t hazy, or uncertain. She felt exactly like her usual self, except for the strange aftertaste of lemon in her mouth.

  Narra looked around the cellar. She could only make out two stone walls, the rest were shrouded in darkness. There were no stairs, no lanterns, or candles she could see. There was only purple light, a small bed with black sheets, and smoke swirling around her feet.

  Whatever she’d been expecting when Ria said she was taking Narra to meet Lady Death, this certainly wasn’t it.

  The longer she sat in silence, the more her nerves grew until her stomach tossed and roiled with nausea. She wanted to find a way out, or at least some light to illuminate the darkness. Though shadows were usually her friend, these held a sinister, unnatural quality.

  Narra stood and pressed her hands against the back wall. The stone was warm, almost hot to the touch. She felt along it until she reached a corner, then continued along that one. Only the wall descended into blackness, and Narra hesitated at the edge. Shapes formed in the dark. What she’d thought was pure, uninterrupted black, shifted and writhed, forming… something.