Clockwork Thief Box Set

by Katherine Bogle

  Frustration burned through her and sparked angry tears at the corners of her eyes. But Narra would not shed them. Not in front of this evil bitch.

  “Fine ,” Narra spat. “But I will not hand it over until I see every last one of them safe beyond the palace walls. You will call all of your guards back to the palace while they leave, and only then will I hand you the certificate.”

  Marina narrowed her eyes. “Fine, but you will not leave my side until you’ve delivered the certificate back to me.”

  “Agreed.”

  Narra stood next to the fireplace, gazing out the open window at the palace yard. Before Marina had called for a guard to do her bidding, they’d cleaned up the mess of bodies she’d nearly forgotten were there. Once Stein and Baldar were safely stowed in a small parlor off the study, Marina called in the guards to deliver her orders.

  The guards had been understandably reluctant—especially when they saw Narra lurking in the shadows—but Marina was the next empress, and no one disobeyed the future ruler.

  It took nearly an hour for arrangements to be made. In the meantime Narra thought through every possible plan she could think of to get out of there. She stayed near the window so she could escape, but Marina had a dozen guards remain inside the study to keep an eye on her. One stood a few feet behind her and Marina the entire time, huffing his disapproval every time Narra’s fingers squeezed the dagger at her belt.

  Narra could leap out the window, but not before a dozen men were on her. Two, maybe three, she could deal with. But a dozen was beyond even her abilities.

  She shot a glare over her shoulder, and the guard glowered right back.

  The crack of the gates opening had her looking back out the window.

  As soon as the gates were opened all the way, the guards on the walls and at the gates walked back to the palace doors, disappearing from her view.

  Narra’s heart raced as she inspected the yard, looking for signs of deception. When another door opened on the side of the palace, Narra froze, her eyes wide with anticipation.

  Was this really happening? Were her Thieves really saved?

  From the shadows of the palace, a woman with black curly hair emerged, dressed in a silk gown and slippers. She looked warily at every dark patch on the lawn, and tightened the cloak around her shoulders.

  Caroline walked slowly away from the palace, her pace lengthening when she spotted the open gates.

  Behind her, dozens upon dozens of filthy men and women emerged. They looked as skittish as Caroline, jumping at every sound, and staying tight together. Their clothes were filthy, their skin covered in dirt. Though they’d only been imprisoned a week or so, their cheeks looked hollow.

  A woman with a nasty scowl and smudged kohl around her eyes limped across the lawn, supported by her nearly identical twin. Klaus held Claudia as they made their way out with the other Thieves. While Klaus looked tired but relieved, Claudia looked furious.

  Narra exhaled loudly, relief flooding her body. Even if she was still inside the palace—still in danger—her Thieves were alive and nearly free.

  When she spotted a head of brown curly hair next, she took a step forward, her fingers resting on the window. The rustle of armor behind her told her she’d moved too abruptly, so she grudgingly stepped back, but didn’t take her eyes off her best friend.

  Erik made his way across the grass, looking worse than she’d ever seen him—and they’d been through a lot together. He looked around, searching for something, or someone. His eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t find whatever he was looking for, and his jaw set.

  Narra’s heart fluttered with longing. Not in any sort of romantic way, but in the same way one’s chest would feet light with joy at the wedding of a close friend.

  It was the longest she’d ever been apart from Erik since they’d met nearly eighteen years ago in Halden Square. She wanted to go to her friend, to hug him and tell him she’d missed him, and how dare he tell her to move on without him.

  But doubt crept through her, squashing her elation. So much had happened since the Thieves were taken. She’d joined a group of assassins, killed dozens, and had even more killed in the name of her cause. How could she tell Erik all of that? He’d be so upset with her for the lengths she’d gone to, to secure his safety, because if she was honest with herself, Erik was the only real reason she’d done it all.

  Shame swallowed her as she watched the entire Thieves Guild pile out from within the palace and exit through the enormous gates.

  Once they were all out onto the street, Marina turned to Narra, holding her hand out, palm up. “I’ve done as you asked, now give me the certificate.”

  Narra reluctantly looked away from the Thieves to meet Marina’s gaze. The princess’s lips were pursed and her jaw was stiff. She clearly didn’t trust Narra anymore than Narra trusted her.

  “Fine.” She’d had more than an hour to come up with an alternate plan to save the birth certificate from Marina’s clutches, but as the rustle of armor reminded her, this was her only option. “Tell your guard dog to back off. Then, we’ll step away from the window, and I’ll give it to you. The window will stay open in case you try to pull anything.”

  Narra glanced suspiciously at Marina’s guards.

  The princess sighed, then waved off her guard. “You heard her.”

  “Your Highness,” he protested.

  “Silence.”

  Grumbling, the man retreated to the other end of the room with the others. There was more than ten feet between Narra and the guards now. Enough space for her to fly out the window should they try anything. Not that she thought they would. Marina had told them her life was in danger if they didn’t cooperate.

  “Now, let’s move away from the window,” Marina said.

  Narra hesitated a moment before she took two careful steps into the room. If she tried to fly away before handing over the paper, Marina would grab her, and slow her escape. She groaned internally, hating that she couldn’t figure out another way.

  They stepped away from the window, stopping in front of the fireplace, and again, Marina held out her hand.

  “Give it to me,” Marina said.

  Narra took the parchment from her pocket. This was it. The only thing that could stop Marina’s tyranny. A piece of fucking paper.

  It was ridiculous, and yet, the small piece of parchment could undo the wrongs made by the last few decades of emperors.

  “Narra,” Marina hissed her name low so the others couldn’t hear.

  With one last forlorn look at the page, Narra set it in Marina’s palm .

  The princess breathed a sigh of relief before quickly stepping away and throwing the birth certificate into the fireplace.

  Narra gasped as fire consumed the edges of the parchment.

  “There,” Marina said. “It’s what I should have done the first time, but I let my feelings—my love for my father—get in the way.” She looked up, meeting Narra’s gaze meaningfully. “That’s the last time I’ll let that happen.”

  Narra narrowed her eyes. She understood Marina’s double meaning. This was the last time Marina would let her feelings for Narra get in the way of her judgment as empress.

  She nodded curtly and stepped toward the window, her grappling hook already in hand beneath her cloak.

  “Princess!” one of the guards barked. A couple had already withdrawn their swords, while others stood with their hands on their hilts. They all wore equal looks of disdain for Narra. Every last one of them wanted to end her life.

  “No,” Marina commanded. She tilted her chin up, her eyes not leaving Narra’s. “Let her go.”

  Narra didn’t waste anymore time. With one last look at Marina, she turned to the window and climbed onto the sill before launching herself off the edge.

  L urking in the shadows of East Gardens, Narra was consumed by her thoughts. How could she not have figured out a way around Marina’s plan? Now the only evidence of who Asher’s true mother was had gone up in flame
s. It was all over. Marina would be empress, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

  At least the Thieves and Caroline were all safe. She could at least take solace in that. But she couldn’t face them, not yet. She was too ashamed of what she’d done, and who she’d become to free them.

  Before Marina, she’d hardly had a second thought about killing a person, and now she was a serial killer. Not only that, but she’d joined a group of deadly assassins, people she could never trust and was now somehow magically bound to.

  She had to figure out a way to sever their bond. If she didn’t, she was afraid she’d have to take Avalon up on her offer, and escape with the pirate across the sea.

  But could distance break the bond between her and the Daughters? She doubted it, but did the assassins lurk in Rupa? From what she knew, they were an organization limited to Rova itself. Rupa had its own set of gods, and Ashra was not among them .

  Before she decided to flee her home country, however, she’d go right to the source. Maybe Ashra would free her from her bonds if she did something for her. There had to be some way out of this.

  Narra slipped through the shadows of East Gardens towards the cellar she’d been taken to when she was indoctrinated into the Daughters of Ashra. She remembered the way well. After all, she’d just killed a man, and blood had literally been on her hands. It was difficult to forget that, especially when she hadn’t been certain whether she’d live or die.

  As she drew closer, something inside her tugged, and she stopped. She couldn’t tell if the feeling was in her body, head, or maybe even her soul. She shook her head and continued.

  Her breathing fogged the cold night air, and a shiver went down her spine. By the time she reached the cellar, anxiety crawled through her stomach. She was about to meet Lady Death again, or so she hoped.

  Creeping across the grass, she paused at the cellar door. It was unlocked, but quiet inside. She opened the doors, setting them down gently on either side of the entrance so she didn’t make a huge racket.

  Once they were settled, she took one last deep breath before steeling herself and entering the cellar.

  Darkness was heavy in the recesses of the basement. There was no glow of candles, or strange purple light to lead her way this time. She went by feeling, letting her fingertips drag across the rough stone wall all the way down the stairs to the cellar floor.

  Dread sat heavy in her stomach. Something tingled along the back of her neck, and she shivered violently. Was that Ashra’s magic? Or just the cool breeze?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Narra cleared her throat. “Ashra?”

  She waited, silence thick, and then tried again.

  “Ashra?”

  A soft chuckle echoed in the dark. “Is that how you greet your Mother? ”

  Fear swept through her, and she had to clench her teeth to keep still.

  “Apologies… Mother.” The word sounded wrong on her tongue. Narra’s mother had died giving birth to her, and it felt strange to use the word for anyone else.

  “Ah, I’m sorry my dear,” Ashra said softly. “I forgot about your mother.”

  Violet light appeared dim at first, and grew in brightness until Narra could make out twisting darkness and heavy fog. The platform, tub, and candles were all gone from the cellar, leaving it barren, but still thick with magic.

  “How did you know about my mother?” Narra asked. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this deity knowing her past, and she despised how the goddess was able to read her thoughts.

  “I know all.”

  The writhing black spun from the far corner, fog pouring from the base of it until the black formed a skirt, then hips, then torso, and then Ashra was staring at her with bottomless dark blue eyes.

  “Then you know why I’m here,” Narra realized aloud.

  Ashra flashed a wicked smile. “Of course.”

  Narra worked her jaw back and forth. “And?”

  “And there is no way out of our deal, my love.” Ashra paused. “Well, except death of course. Death is the ender of all things.”

  Ashra’s smile turned cheeky and devious all at once. Narra had a feeling she enjoyed the double entendre of her own phrasing.

  “You’re certain?” Narra had to try. “Please. Is there some mission, or task I could do? I can’t be bound to you.”

  Not when I’m bound to my Thieves, she thought.

  Ashra inclined her head like a predator eyeing prey. “If your Thieves are such a problem, why don’t you forget about them?”

  Narra’s mouth dropped open. Every piece of her rebelled at the thought of losing them. She couldn’t imagine a future where she could live without her Thieves. They were her family.

  “Tsk, tsk,” Ashra chided. “We’re your family now. ”

  Frustration climbed inside her throat, threatening to suffocate her. “Please . There has to be something.”

  Ashra smirked, and parted her lips to speak when the stairs creaked. She looked up, her hair writhing around her like snakes. “Oh, you brought company.”

  Narra’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, I—”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” a female voice said, high but pleasant, warm like sunshine. It was a strange contrast to the dark creature before her.

  Ashra’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh my. Sister. How long has it been?”

  Sister ? Narra balked.

  A woman emerged from the darkness. She held out her hand, palm up, and a glowing ball suddenly appeared several inches above her hand.

  Ashra’s darkness retreated slightly as the woman stepped from the cellar door to join them. Her hair was golden like wheat in the summer. Her skin was dark from the sun, and freckles covered her nose. Her eyes were the same deep fathomless blue as Ashra’s, though instead of ringed by black, they were surrounded by blond eyelashes.

  “Who do we have here?” the woman asked, smiling gently, as if she was afraid of startling Narra further.

  “One of my Daughters,” Ashra answered. Her tone was slightly colder than before. She sounded annoyed and a bit tired.

  “Ahh.” The woman nodded her understanding. “You still love the theatrics, don’t you little sister?”

  Narra’s eyes widened as this stranger teased the Goddess of Death.

  Ashra rolled her eyes like a teenager—actually rolled her eyes —and snapped her fingers. The violet hue of the room disappeared, as did the smoke and shadows. The room was illuminated by the woman’s glowing orb, making it appear far less creepy than it had before.

  “Better?” Ashra inclined an eyebrow. Though her hair and skirts still writhed like living shadows, she was shorter and didn’t appear quite so intimidating.

  “Much.” The woman glanced between them.

  “What are you doing here?” Ashra asked. She leaned back to sit on nothing, and suddenly a black chair sprouted from shadow. Lady Death sat down, crossed a leg over the other, and leaned her cheek against her hand.

  “I’m here for the coronation, of course.”

  Narra’s eyebrows shot up. That’s where she recognized this woman from. She was the one who walked by in the palace, the one the guards spoke of.

  “Of course.” Ashra inspected her nails.

  “You know, it’s rude not to introduce your sister to your friend.”

  Ashra sighed. “Sister, this is Narra. Narra, this is my sister, Srah.”

  Narra’s eyes flew wide and her heart raced. “Srah… as in the Sun God?”

  Srah raised a pretty blond eyebrow. “Oh my. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one.”

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve been to Rova, Sister,” Ashra said dryly.

  “That it has,” Srah agreed. She stepped forward, her curls bouncing around her beautifully sculpted face. She held out a hand to Narra. “It’s nice to meet you, Narra.”

  Narra nodded, dumbfounded, and stiffly shook Srah’s hand.

  She couldn’t believe this. Not only was she m
agically linked to Lady Death, but her counterpart, the Sun God, was real.

  And he was a woman.

  “ Y ou’re a woman,” Narra said, still dumbfounded to learn the Sun God, Srah, wasn’t a man as history claimed, but a gorgeous woman with golden curls and a cheeky smile.

  Srah laughed, her voice a soft tinkle. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Narra blinked in surprise, both at Srah’s teasing and because she still couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “She’s referring to the legends of the Sun God,” Ashra said dryly. Lady Death shifted in her seat made of shadows, crossing one leg over the other.

  “Ahh,” Srah hummed. “Men have always thought themselves the dominant sex. Why would they worship a woman when they think this?”

  Narra hadn’t realized it before, but Srah had a foreign accent, unlike her darker sister. If they were both related, she wasn’t sure how it was possible. Then again, Ashra had mentioned it had been a long time since Srah had returned to Rova. Maybe that’s why their accents differed.

  “I see your point,” Narra said.

  “History has always had a bad habit of favoring men,” Srah continued. “At least in Rova. ”

  “Again with this, Sister?” Ashra sighed. “Not all lands can be like your precious Wells.”

  Narra’s eyebrows knit with confusion. “The Wells?”

  Srah smiled. “Yes. The Wells have come a long way over the years.”

  Ashra snorted. “Of course they have. You were their duchess once.”

  Srah narrowed her eyes at her sister. “That’s supposed to be a secret, Sister.”

  The Death God’s smile turned devious. “I know, Sister .”

  Srah placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. She tapped her foot like an angry mother about to scold her child.

  It was obvious who the younger of the two was, or who fancied themselves the older, more mature sibling. Narra wasn’t sure if either of them was technically older, though her curiosity burned to know.

  “If you used to be the duchess, why are you here as one of her handmaidens?” Narra asked. She couldn’t help herself.