Clockwork Thief Box Set

by Katherine Bogle

  She stepped back, her heart leaping with the cold fear that slid through her suddenly. Whatever that was, it wasn’t natural.

  She went back to the bed and tried the other wall, only to get the same result. The dim light didn’t move, and she refused to set foot inside the seething blackness.

  Damn. She had nowhere to go, and no way to tell where she was, or even the time of day.

  Narra ground her teeth as she inspected the room one more time as if she expected something to change. Nothing did.

  “What is this place?” she murmured to herself.

  She barely heard her own words, as if the blackness sucked away all sound.

  “A simple place of necessity,” a husky female voice purred.

  Narra jumped, her hands going to her hips. Only her belt held no knives—no weapons of any kind. Ancestors . That should have been the first thing she noticed.

  “Don’t be afraid, little lamb,” the voice laughed coldly, echoing with a double tone like two different voices lapsing over one another. “If you want to be my Daughter, you can’t very well tremble at the sight of Mother.”

  Her heartbeat sped up and her eyes widened as she scanned the black. Nothing. She couldn’t see anything.

  “Who are you?” Narra asked.

  “Who do you think?” Again, she laughed, but this time it had a sweet ring to it.

  Narra’s lips snapped shut on her response. She couldn’t say it. It was far too foolish, far too impossible .

  “Nothing is impossible, my dear.”

  Her mouth fell open. Was it reading her mind?

  “It? Well that’s not very kind.”

  The shadows writhing at the far side of the room moved suddenly, twisting like bands of silk until they wrapped taut around a tall female form with hair like liquid black waves, spilling down her chest and back. The woman stepped from the darkness. Violet smoke trailed from her feet, billowing around her silk skirts.

  Her skin was like night, her round eyes twinkling the deepest blue Narra had ever seen. Her full lips twisted in a smirk as she appraised Narra from head to toe. Her hair wisped around her shoulders, actually moving like a living thing.

  What the hell had Ria given her? It had to be the potion making her see these things. Shadows didn’t twist and form into women. Hair didn’t writhe like snakes. And smoke certainly didn’t come out of nowhere, and not rise into the air.

  “You have a very limited view of the world,” the woman noted with a bite of agitation. “Ria only knocked you out. You aren’t under any effects now.”

  Narra couldn’t see how that, or any of this was possible.

  The woman sighed and propped a hand on her exposed hip. Though her dress was made of pure shadow, somehow Narra could tell where the woman’s skin ended and the dress began.

  “Say my name, Narra Rheka.” Her voice boomed in Narra’s ears. Her eardrums vibrated painfully, and she clamped her hands down over her ears.

  Narra’s heart continued to race with fear and confusion. She parted her lips to speak, but she couldn’t form the words. For the last twenty-five years, magic and gods hadn’t existed, but here she was standing before one.

  The woman stepped forward, issuing the same command in a haughty voice. “Say. My. Name.”

  Narra’s eyes watered from the overwhelming pressure building in her ears, but finally she forced herself to succumb, if anything just so this dream would end. “Ashra. ”

  Lady Death’s lips twisted into a menacing smile. “More.”

  Narra took a deep breath. “You… you’re… Lady Death. Queen of the Underworld, Goddess of the Damned, Harbinger of Chaos.”

  “Mmm,” Ashra purred. She bit her lip and trailed a finger down her sharp cheekbone. “I love hearing mortals’ names for me.”

  Her sigh was blissful, and she closed her eyes as if savoring the moment. When she opened them again, her gaze was sharp like an attacking viper.

  Narra didn’t know what to say or do. She was in the presence of a damn god. A god she hadn’t believed in until this moment.

  A tremble went through Ashra’s dress, and her smile pulled wider to reveal her teeth. “Your awe is absolutely intoxicating.”

  Ashra inspected the thief once more, and slowly let her hand drop back to her side. She stepped closer, and Narra froze. The smoke drifting from beneath Ashra’s dress puffed out and twisted like fingers around Narra’s ankles, then knees and thighs, until it wrapped around her entire body. It forced her head back slightly, so that she stared directly up into the Death God’s eyes. Ashra had to be nearly seven feet tall. She towered over Narra, making the thief want to shrink back in on herself.

  “So, you want to be one of my Daughters?” Ashra asked.

  The question was loaded, and Narra couldn’t stop herself from gulping the dread lumped in her throat. “Yes.”

  “Is that only because you fear death?”

  No , Narra thought instinctively. She didn’t fear death. For most of her life she’d almost welcomed it.

  “Ah, I see.” Ashra’s eyes turned sad. “Most of my girls have had lives like yours. Burned and spurned by men.” Her finger, cold like ice, trailed along Narra’s jawbone, making her gasp. “If you should join me, you’ll never fear men again. As my Daughter, you’ll be given the powers of a Handmaiden of Death. You won’t age like a human would. You’ll live a long life in service of your queen.”

  Narra’s eyebrows furrowed. She wouldn’t age like a human? So how many years would she live? A hundred? Two hundred ?

  “There is no precise number, Narra,” Ashra answered her thoughts.

  Narra wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  “You can still die by other means,” Ashra continued, and this time Narra was certain she was ignoring her thoughts. “But it’s unlikely to happen. You’re already quite gifted.”

  Her cold finger descended down Narra’s throat to her collarbone, then left suddenly.

  “What do I have to do?” Narra asked. There had to be more to this than simply making a public declaration on Ashra’s behalf. Would she be signing over her entire life to this goddess? Would she never be able to reunite with the Thieves?

  “I won’t own you, Narra.” Ashra stepped away, taking her shadows and smoke with her. “No one ever will again.”

  The scent of sage lessened now that Ashra put some space between them. Narra sucked in gulps of air hungrily.

  “You will reunite with your Thieves, and I will help you, as will the rest of my Daughters,” Ashra said. “But when that business is done, you will serve me like my other children. You will do as I say when I call upon you. You will not question me, and you certainly will not disobey me.” Her blue gaze, like the darkest depths of the sea, cut into Narra.

  Narra held no doubts about what the repercussions would be if she in any way defaulted on her vow of service. She would die, and it would in no way be pleasant.

  Narra nodded in understanding when Ashra continued to glare at her expectantly.

  Lady Death turned once she had her affirmation, and continued to the back of the room where the shadows were thickest. “It will take some time to prepare the ritual to seal your body and soul to me. One of my Daughters will come to you when I am ready.”

  Body and soul? Ritual?

  Her blood curdled and her fists balled. She didn’t like the sound of that. But what choice did she really have? If she didn’t go along with all of this insanity, she would die and never be reunited with the Thieves Guild.

  “That’s right…” Ashra smiled wickedly. “You have no choice, my thief.”

  Her laugh echoed off the walls, and reverberated in Narra’s head until it was all she could hear. Pain filled her skull, forcing Narra to her knees. She held her head in her hands and cried out as the sharp sound hit her again and again.

  “Until we meet again, my Daughter.”

  Ashra’s words were the last thing Narra heard before shadows once again claimed her.

  G olden light
spilled across Narra’s cheeks as she yawned and stretched. Cotton sheets bunched between her fingers, and several solid objects poked and prodded her sides. Emperor’s ancestors. Was she wearing her belts?

  Narra’s eyebrows furrowed as she ran a hand down her waist and hip. Her belt wrapped her hips, the blunt end of her daggers jabbing her sides. Since when did she fall asleep with her equipment on? She had to be damned tired for that.

  Squinting into the morning light, Narra tried to remember what had happened last night.

  Shadows swirled at the edge of a dark cellar, and a gorgeous, but terrifying, god appeared as if from nothing.

  Narra started, sitting up straight, her chest heaving. Ancestors . What had Ria given her? It had to all be a dream. There’s no way she’d actually met Lady Death, and yet their encounter had felt so real.

  Confusion tore her racing mind in a thousand directions. She didn’t know what to think or believe.

  Glancing around her bedroom, she wondered if maybe Ria’s potion had knocked her out and she’d dreamt it all. She was in bed after all, with her weapons and cloak still attached. As strange as that was, it made more sense than Ria knocking her out, taking her weapons, and leaving her in some magical cellar before later returning her to her bed.

  That had to be it. It was all a dream.

  Narra shook her head and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Just as she went to stand, a newspaper on the nightstand caught her eye. Her forehead wrinkled. That hadn’t been there before.

  She plucked the Rova Chronicle from the table and unwrapped the twine that held it in a loop. Once the front page was displayed between her fingers, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  Below the date, which if it was accurate meant she’d been asleep for more than a day, was the headline:

  WHO HAS ANGERED THE GODS?

  Well that was an unusual headline. Narra scanned the article and froze. The killing of soldiers had spread far and wide across all of Rova. Each had the note ‘Thief’ stuck to the body, a fact the papers could no longer hide. Hundreds were dead, and no one knew who was the cause. The writer questioned whether someone had angered the Goddess of Death, or if the death of the emperor was at fault. Some even sought to blame the religious zealots, and others went so far as to blame the impending new empress.

  Her breaths came quickly as she flipped through the pages of the paper, desperate for more information.

  There were more hangings in Varek Square by decree of Princess Marina. The trial for Elena and Raeleen Kolarova’s supposed assassination of the emperor had begun. There was even an open ad from the religious sect of the city seeking new members.

  “I’ve been asleep for a day!” she cried into the silence of her apartment.

  It made no sense. Though a day and a half seemed to have been lost, so much had gone on in her absence, and it all led back to one encounter she’d dismissed as a dream.

  Her heart pounded as she called back the memories of that dark cellar. Narra had agreed to be Ashra’s Daughter as long as she and the other assassins helped Narra secure her thieves. While she had been asleep, they’d done exactly that, spreading her killings far and wide—much farther than she could have ever gotten alone.

  Part of her was elated. Marina had to listen to her now. But another part recoiled at the thought of so many dead, even for her cause. Were the Daughters as careful about picking their victims as she’d been? Or were they killing new recruits, basically children enlisted by the army?

  Narra ground her teeth as her stomach flipped. Bile rose into her throat, threatening to make her vomit. She closed her eyes tight and took deep breaths until the nausea subsided. She told herself it would be worth it. Killing the soldiers was a means to an end. It was the only way to rile up the country and get Marina’s attention. There’s no way the princess could ignore her now.

  Her eyes snapped back open. This was good. Her plan was moving along.

  But while she waited for the effects her killings would have on the populace, she had to do something . Narra twisted her lip between her teeth. It had been a few days since she’d met with Captain Avalon. She could find her and fill her in on what she’d done so far.

  At least it was better than sitting in her apartment all day, or searching in vain for her uncle.

  Narra sighed. Picking herself up off the bed, Narra dusted herself off and took her leave.

  The chant of an old Rovan dialect drifted on the wind, and Narra furrowed her brow as she landed on the steeple of a roof across from Rova’s largest cathedral. The square was full of people, and a priest stood on a pedestal at the bottom of the grand steps, a large, ancient looking book lying between his open palms.

  Great. It seemed more and more were turning to the old religion.

  Normally, she wouldn’t have a problem with it, but the church was using scare tactics to get their members. Narra froze as she realized maybe these people had a point. Though she wasn’t sure of Srah’s existence, she also wasn’t sure she could deny that Ashra was real. The more she thought about it, the more she was certain. The scene in the cellar had been no dream. It had been magic. Ancient, terrifying magic.

  A shiver went down her spine, and Narra shook her head to rid the sense of dread accumulating inside her.

  Ashra wanted to seal Narra’s body and soul to her. What would that mean? Would she stay twenty-five and watch everyone she loved age and die around her?

  Cold wind pulled on her hood, and Narra grabbed the front of her cloak to keep it in place. She couldn’t think about any of that right now. When the time came, or if she happened upon Ria beforehand, she’d ask her questions.

  Turning from the religious sermon below, Narra let her grappling hook loose.

  Ten minutes later, she’d reached the City Docks. Avalon’s pirate ship floated where it always did, masts stuck up into the overcast sky, sails folded in, and the carving of a mermaid on the bow.

  The dark sea beyond was choppy with the winds so high, white foam cresting each wave. The wood of the docks was darker than usual, soaked with seawater. It seemed the weather wasn’t on Narra’s side today. She hoped the rain would hold off until she returned home.

  Narra descended to the alley floor between two warehouses before trekking across the damp boards lining the bay. She stepped onto the dock leading out to a plank set against the edge of the ship. The wood dipped below her, tossing and turning like a sleepless child.

  She ground her teeth and steadied herself. She’d never been at sea, and the only time she’d ever been on a boat was when she’d met Avalon. That suited her just fine, as her stomach twisted with every dip of the dock. She couldn’t imagine being at sea for months, the ground never steady beneath her. What a nightmare.

  The sea finally gave her a moment of reprieve, the dock no longer sliding side to side. Narra took her opportunity and raced down the dock, up the plank and onto the pirate ship. Before she’d even stepped onto the deck, a dagger was at her throat.

  “You again,” the pirate snapped. His beady eyes narrowed. He was the same man she’d met with several times now, and every time it was as if their first encounter flashed before his eyes—she’d easily subdued him, humiliating him in front of the rest of the crew.

  “Me again,” Narra said dryly.

  “Derrick, put that thing away.” Avalon leaned against the railing on the top deck next to a large wheel. Her smirk couldn’t mask the trouble in her eyes. Though she put on a brave face, Narra assumed she was still worried about her sister.

  Derrick grumbled something she couldn’t decipher and lowered his blade before stepping away.

  “Avalon,” Narra greeted the pirate.

  The captain smiled as she leaned away from the railing. The crisp red feather on her hat shook in the wind as she descended the stairs and stopped in front of Narra.

  “Rheka,” Avalon returned her greeting. “Shall we go to my chambers?”

  Narra shrugged, and the pirate captain took it as a si
gn to lead the way.

  Only when they were inside Avalon’s rooms, the door firmly shut behind them, did Avalon’s smile fall away.

  The captain crossed the room, placing her hat on the desk at the center before collapsing in the chair behind it. She stared at the ceiling, her eyebrows drawn together.

  Narra shifted awkwardly. She wasn’t sure what to say or do. It was clear that Avalon was upset, but she wasn’t great at comforting people, especially those she wasn’t close with.

  “Are you all right?” Narra asked tentatively .

  Avalon looked at her. A storm waged in the pirate’s eyes, and suddenly the ship shook beneath them.

  Narra spread her feet apart to stay standing, bracing herself as the ship swayed violently. A crack echoed outside, thunder on the horizon.

  Their gazes met, and Narra couldn’t help but wonder if the rumors about Rupan witches were true. If Ashra was real, why not them too?

  From what Narra knew of the foreign country, it was said witches used to rule in the south. The witches were dangerous, and commanded the elements. Earth, fire, sea, and even blood. It was even said the last King of Rupa had been a witch, but Narra couldn’t recall what kind.

  “I’m all right,” Avalon said, though her voice sounded strained. “Apologies.”

  Narra’s eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t sure what Avalon was apologizing for.

  The assembly of pillows on a large bed at the back of the captain’s quarters shifted, a few spilling onto the wooden floor. Kaja, Avalon’s large tiger, stepped off the bed, and prowled to her master’s side. The enormous feline eyed Narra with suspicious green eyes before looking at Avalon, her gaze seeming to soften before she sat by the desk and prodded Avalon’s fingers with her nose.

  Avalon smiled and absently ran her hand over Kaja’s head. “Do you have any news?” she asked at last.