《Thief By Trade》


 Chapter 1: Kildare

    It was not a good night for thieving.


    Kildare huddled on the edge of the roof, feet braced against the gutter. Cold water trickled past his heels, soaking his dragonsbane-fiber foot-wraps. He kept one arm hooked around the leg of the griffin statue he sat next to as he leaned over the roof, watching the flickering, dancing lantern light reflect off the rain-slicked walls and cobbles of the courtyard below.


    Would Mockingbird and Fir make it in the gate? Would Fir¡¯s forgery job for the invitation hold up to scrutiny?


    This was the part of the job he hated¡ªwaiting to make sure his team was in place.


    ¡°Seen ¡®em yet?¡± Snitch shifted uncomfortably from where he was curled up under the griffin¡¯s wing, one of the few dry spots left on the slate roof.


    Kildare leaned out a little more, straining to see the carriages pulling up to the grand steps of the keep. It looked like most people had arrived by now¡ªthere were about a dozen carriages parked to the side of the stables, and four more waiting in line to get their fancily-dressed passengers as close to the doors as possible before disgorging them.


    He moved his foot, trying to find a more comfortable balance, and suddenly skidded a little closer to the edge. Kildare¡¯s heart leapt to his throat. Before he could stop himself, wings burst from his shoulders and the backs of his arms. His fingernails lengthened into claws, scraping along the roof. Half in wyvern form, he flung himself back on the roof, heels digging harder against the gutter, and laid very, very still.


    Even if the guards were night-blinded by the lanterns strung over the courtyard, movement as sudden as wings could draw attention. Kildare blinked against the rain pelting his face, slowly calming his heart rate until he could shift fully back into human form. After some minutes had passed and there were no shouts of alarm, he slowly sat up. He scanned the walls, hoping he hadn¡¯t missed warning cries in the drumming of the rain against the slate roof tiles, but all the guards seemed to be in their places, huddled under waterproofed cloaks at the corners of the keep¡¯s walls.


    ¡°You all right?¡± Snitch hissed.


    Kildare glanced over at him. Snitch had half-crawled from his spot under the griffin statue, eyes wide.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Snitch nodded and brushed his lank hair out of his face, settling back into place underneath the griffin.


    Kildare sighed, settled himself again and folded his elbows on his knees, watching. All this for some statue. He took a deep breath, so deep it made his lungs ache. But for a good cause.


    Two more carriages slogged from the muddy road into the courtyard, their wheels leaving tracks of sludge that were quickly washed away. The first carriage, painted a green so dark that it looked almost black in the lantern light, was the familiar one. The one he¡¯d been waiting for.


    Kildare tracked it to the foot of the steps, where it paused. The carriage door popped open, and two familiar figures in brilliant forest-green and summer-gold clothing dashed up the steps and for the front door. The driver¡ªhired for the night, of course¡ªpulled toward the stables.


    Kildare reached over and tapped Snitch on the shoulder.


    Light flickered off metal as Snitch¡¯s knives disappeared into the folds of his cloak. ¡°We¡¯re on?¡±


    Kildare grinned. ¡°We¡¯re on.¡±


    Hunching low, they scrabbled their way over the peak of the roof, sliding down the other side. Bracing one foot against the gutter again, Kildare slowly rose to a crouch. One more glance at the guards on the wall. Their backs were still turned. He leaned over the edge of the roof. Torches¡ªnot the fancy, scrollwork lanterns¡ªlit the back of the keep, casting dim circles of light around the back door and down shallow steps into what Kildare guessed was the keep garden.


    ¡°A few feet to the left, and we¡¯ll be over a window.¡± He straightened. ¡°Ready for this?¡±


    Snitch shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m never ready for this,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Oh, come on. In five years, I¡¯ve never dropped you.¡± Kildare grinned. ¡°Unless it¡¯s been part of the plan.¡±


    Snitch didn¡¯t move. And for a split second, Kildare wondered¡­did Snitch really still not trust him?


    ¡°I won¡¯t drop you,¡± Kildare said reassuringly.


    Snitch crept forward, grasping Kildare¡¯s outstretched hand. ¡°I keep telling you, you keep speaking in absolutes during a job, you¡¯re gonna jinx us.¡±


    It was an old joke¡ªit had been an old thieves¡¯ joke before anyone on the team had ever been born¡ªbut it eased the flutter of anxiety souring Kildare¡¯s gut. They couldn¡¯t afford the missteps those feelings could give them.


    Using Kildare as an anchor, Snitch climbed over the gutter and began feeling his way down to the third-story window. Kildare squeezed his fingers tight around his friend¡¯s wrist, and mentally prepared himself to shift if Snitch slipped from his grasp.


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    ¡°Got it,¡± Snitch hissed.


    Kildare let go, then swung himself over the gutter. He looked down. Directly underneath his feet, two guards stood by sputtering torches on either side of the door, cloaks huddled around their forms. Water dribbled along the gutters, splattering on the pavement and masking the sound of his movement.


    Snitch clung to the side of the building, a slim blade slipped between the wooden shutters over the window. He jiggled the blade back and forth, thin face scrunched in concentration. With a tiny click, the bar on the interior of the shutters gave way, and Snitch leaned back, swinging them out and back against the stone wall. He stuck the blade under the leaded-glass widow and began working it upward.


    Kildare swung himself to the window and squinted, trying to see inside. No lanterns or candles lit the interior of the room, and all he could see were vague shadows.


    The window popped open, the hinges creaking. With a silent flurry of movement, Snitch was inside the room. By the time Kildare hauled himself over the sill, Snitch was at the side of the bed closest to the window, knife in hand, the blankets thrown aside to make sure no one was hiding under them.


    No one was. Snitch bent and looked under the bed, then glanced at Kildare and nodded. All clear.


    Kildare pulled the shutters and window shut, wincing at the gentle creak of the metal hinges. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of cloth as Snitch began searching through and under the other beds. He walked to the room¡¯s only door and eased it open a crack, peering out into the corridor. Lanterns hung from hooks on the wall, creating pools of light and shadow that would make it easy to sneak through. Besides, all the servants were probably on the main floor, serving and cooking and preparing guest rooms for the partiers who would inevitably be too drunk to make the rattling, swaying drive home in their carriages.


    He slipped out into the hallway, hugging the wall, and began creeping forward. Snitch slid after him. Carefully, they worked their way through the halls of the servants¡¯ quarters to the stairs. The steps creaked underfoot as Kildare crept down them. Snitch hunched, trying to make himself as small as possible. Kildare sympathized with him¡ªthey both preferred skulking through the shadows. Walking down the stairs, with no place to hide if someone opened the door at the bottom of the staircase, felt wrong.


    When they opened the door to the second floor, Kildare could hear the sounds of the party filtering through the hallway. He paused, consulting his mental image of the map he¡¯d spent the last few days memorizing. They were at the back of the building, and the hallway outside the door led to the second-floor gallery. And at the front of the keep, a few steps up from the gallery and above the guard rooms, was Lord Datheil¡¯s display room. The statue they were looking for was probably there.


    They snuck through the short hallway and paused at the open doorway leading into the gallery. From what they¡¯d been told, two guards always stood on watch at the far end of the gallery in front of the display room. The carved wooden panels that served as the gallery railing hid them from the guards¡¯ view, but until Mockingbird and Fir¡¯s show, they wouldn¡¯t be able to get past the guards either.


    At least, Kildare hoped that the show would provide them cover. If all went well, the guards would take a few steps forward to look over the gallery railing once the show started. After all, it wasn¡¯t really abandoning their posts. But if the guards didn¡¯t fall for it, things were going to get a lot messier than he¡¯d planned.Kildare crept up to the paneling, using some of the decorative holes in the wood to peer down into the banquet hall below. The room was a riot of color and sound as music bounced off the wooden paneled walls and ceiling. Massive, stained glass windows arched nearly two stories tall, and between the three windows on each side of the room hung elaborate tapestries with tassels nearly a foot long, each depicting a scene from mythology.


    Kildare studied the closest one tapestry, a depiction of Jakan Roliwyn breaking the mountains of Lerem. Wavy lines shot through with gold thread emanated from the figure¡¯s upraised hand. Representing whatever type of ley Jakan had supposedly been able to manipulate, Kildare figured.


    ¡°Look at that,¡± Snitch muttered beside him. ¡°The tassels on that banner are probably two feet long. How long do you think that it takes a servant to untangle them?¡±


    ¡°No idea, and I don¡¯t envy them,¡± Kildare said quietly. The opulence around him was flashy, and pretty, yes, but the Do¡¯orite tile mosaic alone probably cost hundreds of goldmarks. He clenched one fist. Half of that sum, and they could easily clean up the slums around the town.


    ¡°See them yet?¡± Snitch asked, breaking Kildare¡¯s mind from his mental tallying.


    Kildare glanced down at the banquet hall again. As he scanned the room, searching for Mockingbird or Fir, a flicker of red hair caught the corner of his eye. Kildare focused on it, heart leaping to his throat.


    The woman was too young to be Serene.


    He breathed out a sigh and resumed searching. There were several Alfaren in attendance, but most had tamed their bristly, moss-like hair into the tall curls and slicked-back tails of Ermenian fashion. Fir had given up days ago trying to style his hair, but at least Mockingbird had removed the prayer beads and random charms she usually wore¡ªthough Kildare was pretty sure he¡¯d seen her slip a few charm bracelets into the sleeves of her flowing gown before he¡¯d left.


    ¡°It¡¯s got to be close to time for their act,¡± Kildare said. He looked away from the banquet hall and around the gallery. They were too exposed here¡ªif someone walked out of the servants¡¯ quarters behind them, there was no cover. He glanced at Snitch. ¡°See any place to hide?¡±


    Snitch motioned for him to follow, and they crept along the wall until they got to a corner. Snitch crouched, studying the long, open gallery for a moment, then motioned at a shorter tapestry hanging on the gallery wall. ¡°You hide there. It¡¯s over an alcove, I can tell by the way it hangs. So just hug the back wall¡ªthe shadows should hide your feet.¡± He pointed to a suit of armor set beside one of the roof support pillars that jutted through the gallery wall. ¡°I¡¯ll squeeze in there and keep an eye on things, let you know when Lord and Lady Thorne make an appearance.¡± He grinned.


    Kildare nodded and slipped across the dark wooden floor, careful of popped nails and loose boards, and slid under the tapestry. He stood upright. Sure enough, there was a shallow little alcove back here, maybe once used to display a statue, but it was empty now, except for a few dust-white cobwebs he could just make out with the cracks of light coming around the tapestry¡¯s edges. Kildare pressed to one side of the alcove and leaned forward, squinting out from one of the sides. He couldn¡¯t quite see Snitch, just the edge of the suit of armor. He pushed the tapestry aside a hair and glanced toward the front of the building. Now that he was standing, he could see across the low gallery wall to the arched doorway of the display room. Two guards stood on either side of the arch, both armed with crossbows and swords. He grimaced. Even his wyvern form wouldn¡¯t be much protection against crossbow bolts.


    With Snitch in place, watching for Mock and Fir¡¯s signal, all they could do was wait. Kildare crouched and leaned his back against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and took a long, slow breath in, then let it out. He could wait.

 Chapter 2: Fir

    The dressing room we had promised them ended up being more of a little alcove, set off from the banquet hall and covered by a thick tapestry. The real Lord and Lady Thorne probably wouldn¡¯t be so thrilled, but it was better than an alley or a closet.


    Fir ran his hand down the back of the tapestry, noting the way the ends of the various threads were neatly woven in and the long floats of colors had been twisted together so that no threads sagged or pulled. The back of a tapestry was always a good indication as to the quality of the work, and this one looked to be top-notch.


    ¡°Almost ready?¡± he asked, turning.


    Mockingbird stood in front of the full-length mirror at the back of the room, but instead of putting the finishing touches on her dramatic makeup, she was running her fingers along the gilt mirror frame. She shot him a guilty grin over her shoulder. ¡°Sorry.¡± She reached over and grabbed the little box of loose shadow powder, using her fingers to dab some of the dark purple color into the creases of her eyelids.


    Fir checked his own appearance in the mirror. Although his makeup was nothing as dramatic as Mock¡¯s¡ªafter all, the mysterious Lady Thorne had to live up to her reputation¡ªhe¡¯d still shadowed his eyes, making them appear sunken and dark, and highlighted his cheekbones. The entire point was to make themselves look as eye-catching as possible without being garish¡ªand to disguise their own faces.


    He double-checked the hidden pockets in his sleeves and the inner lining of his vest. This was where the loose, flowing clothing he was used to as an Alfaren came in handy. The folds hid the small pouches of handheld firecrackers and other bits and bobs they¡¯d use for most of their show, although Mock¡¯s illusory magic would definitely support a good bit of it as well.


    A knock on the wall next to the tapestry startled Fir, and he spun. Lord Datheil stood in the doorway, eyes alight with excitement.


    ¡°Lord and Lady Thorne!¡± The man advanced, stretching his hand out.


    Datheil was tall for a human, nearly at Fir¡¯s eye level. Fir shook Datheil¡¯s hand, trying not to show how much the tall, muscular man made him nervous. If it came down to it in a hand-to-hand fight, he wasn¡¯t sure that any of their crew¡ªeven Snitch¡ªcould take this one down.


    Right now, though, the lord was like a giddy child. He nodded excitedly to Mock, who answered with a little half-bow in the mirror, then turned back to Fir. ¡°My wife just told me who she engaged for my birthday celebration. So marvelous! I¡¯ve heard stories of your exploits all over Lerem and Teshinn. I know a few folks who think the point of an illusion show is ridiculous¡ªafter all, ley manipulators are so common here¡ªbut I think it takes a certain skill to it. And then there¡¯s the fun of how the trick is done, isn¡¯t there?¡±


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    ¡°Indeed, Lord Datheil,¡± Fir said, forcing a smile. ¡°We find that the mystery of the tricks is always the draw.¡±


    Lord Datheil nodded so vigorously that the green ribbon around his tail of hair nearly slipped loose. ¡°Well, I won¡¯t keep you any longer. Your cue should be coming here in just a few minutes, and I imagine you¡¯ll need that time to finish your preparations. I just wanted to come extend my thanks for your attendance and let you know that we are all eagerly anticipating your tricks.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    Lord Datheil treated them to another bow, then he left, the tapestry swishing back into place behind him.


    ¡°Poor man,¡± Mock said. ¡°All he wants is a little entertainment. I almost feel sorry for him.¡±


    Fir snorted. ¡°Almost?¡±


    Mock shrugged and smirked, turning back to the mirror. ¡°I¡¯m sure his wealth will help ease his disappointment.¡± Just as she finished the final stroke of makeup, transforming her into the mysterious Lady Thorne, the chatter and music outside of the room stopped. The light filtering into the dressing room went dim. Fir quickly glanced around the room, making sure nothing crucial¡ªhis lock-picking kit, or the daggers Mock had smuggled in under her skirt¡ªhad been left behind, then blew out their own candles. He stepped up to the tapestry, stomach twisting into a knot.


    Silk rustled as Mock joined him. Her elbow nudged his arm, and he felt more than saw her nod.


    ¡°Ready with the smoke bomb?¡± she whispered.


    Fir touched his hand to his left sleeve, where he¡¯d tucked the twist of brown paper holding the tightly packed powder. One flick of the firecaster concealed in his right sleeve, and the powder would explode into thick, drifting smoke¡ªperfect for a getaway.


    ¡°My honored guests,¡± boomed Lord Datheil¡¯s voice from beyond the tapestry.


    Fir¡¯s heart rate quickened. This was the part of the job he¡¯d dreaded the most. Reading about the Thornes, practicing the ways they might pull off their illusions, that was entertaining. But actually having to perform in front of people? He wanted to hide. To grab his dark cloak from the corner of the room and slink into the shadows. To go back to his room at their inn, where he¡¯d amassed a small library, and bury himself in research. Thankfully, Kil had said this was the last time they¡¯d use the Thornes as a cover. One or two charlatans using the name of the famous couple were to be expected, but any more than that, and real suspicions might be aroused.


    ¡°Tonight, in order to provide the best of entertainment to you, my honored friends who have traveled to celebrate with me¡ªmay I present to you the amazing, the astounding, the one and only traveling illusionist act of nobility and class, Lord and Lady Thorne.¡±


    Fir felt the steadying pressure of Mock¡¯s hand on his sleeve. He gritted his teeth. They¡¯d practiced these tricks for weeks¡ªhe could do this.


    He flung the tapestry aside and, in the same smooth motion, drew a firecracker from his pocket, flicked it against the concealed firecaster, and tossed it forward. As it exploded into colored purple and golden sparks, he and Mock stepped forward, hand in hand, and bowed.


    Tonight, he was Lord Thorne, master of illusive tricks.

 Chapter 3: Kildare

    The sliver of light vanished. Kildare braced a hand against the wall and stood, wincing at the way his legs ached after a half hour of crouching. Carefully, he moved the tapestry aside. The lights in the banquet hall had been extinguished, save for a couple of lanterns hanging directly over the middle of the space. A few seconds later, a loud voice announced Lord and Lady Thorne.


    From his corner, wedged between the suit of armor and the support pillar, Snitch motioned to him.


    Kildare glanced at the guards in front of the display room. One of them had stepped up to the gallery edge, peering with interest down into the banquet hall. The other leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking bored.


    Staying hunched, Kildare and Snitch worked their way along the gallery wall until they were at the corner to the right of the display room. Kildare¡¯s heart hammered, and his fingers twitched as Snitch carefully leaned around the corner.


    Below, Mock and Fir¡¯s voices rose, pattering away as they tossed knives in the air, made flowers disappear and reappear behind people¡¯s ears, and mysteriously spirited away items from peoples¡¯ pockets, all to lilting, giddy music and the pleased gasps and applause of their audience. Kildare had watched them practice¡ªthey were good. He¡¯d joked that if they ever stopped stealing stuff, they¡¯d at least have the Lord and Lady Thorne act to fall back on.


    ¡°Rot it all,¡± Snitch muttered under his breath. ¡°Move, you fool.¡± He glanced back at Kildare.


    Kildare cocked his head to the side. So the guard at the door hadn¡¯t moved. Kildare bit the inside of his lip. The Lord and Lady Thorne act would only last twenty minutes¡ªthey¡¯d counted on both of the guards being distracted by the act. Illusory acts were so rare among countries where ley¡ªreal magic¡ªwas possible. He had figured that would give them more than enough time to get into the display room, grab the statue, and sneak out again. How many minutes had passed by? Five? Kildare cursed himself for not buying any of those newfangled wristcogs that could track the time.


    Snitch stared at him, eyes wide, waiting for Kildare to make a decision. Kildare hesitated. What to do? How could they¡ª


    A muffled gasp sounded behind them. Kildare spun and was moving before he¡¯d even really taken in the details. He glimpsed a servant girl, young, probably a few years younger than him, and then he clamped his hand over her mouth, pushing her back against the wall. She shrieked and lashed out at him with both fists. Kildare ducked his head, letting the blows glance off one arm, then used his other hand to grab her wrists.


    She stared at him, blue eyes wide, tears gathering at the corners. She was cowering away from him. A knot of guilt twisted his gut. He leaned forward and whispered harshly to her, ¡°Get out of here, you understand me? Don¡¯t get involved, or I swear¡ª¡± He let the threat dangle unsaid, hoping he didn¡¯t have to finish it. Hoping it scared her enough.


    She nodded, tears tracking down her cheeks.


    Kildare released her and stepped back. The girl dashed the tears from her face, spun, and ran from the gallery without a sound.


    Kildare shot a glance at Snitch.


    The thief was sliding his knife from the chest of the guard in front of the display room doorway. The other guard was turning, eyes wide in panic.


    ¡°Intruders!¡± he yelled, just as a particularly loud rush of music swelled from below.


    Kildare could barely hear him, so he guessed no one in the banquet hall had.


    Snitch lunged forward, elbow cracking into the guard¡¯s sternum. Even through the chain mail, it had to hurt. The guard stumbled back into the gallery railing. Snitch followed, knife raised.


    ¡°Snitch, no!¡± Kildare yelled.


    The railing gave way with a loud snap.


    The man screamed as he fell. There was a loud thump. Shrieks and shouts of alarm drowned out the music. .


    Kildare¡¯s heart was in his throat as he glanced over the railing. The guard had landed on two other men, and they all lay in a groaning heap in the middle of the floor. Still alive, then. At least there was that.


    ¡°The lights! Turn on the lights!¡± someone shouted.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Kildare scanned the floor for Mock and Fir and found them both at the far side of the room, standing beside someone he could only assume was Lord Datheil. Fir¡¯s eyes were wide as he glanced around. Mock looked up, saw Kildare, and rolled her eyes.


    Snitch grabbed his arm. ¡°If you want that statue, we gotta move now, Kil!¡±


    Kildare backed away from the railing, ran after Snitch. The other guard still lay crumpled in the doorway, moaning and rocking back and forth over the wound in his chest. Snitch knelt beside him.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Kildare tried to grab Snitch¡¯s arm.


    Snitch shrugged him off and, in one quick motion, drew his knife through the guard¡¯s throat. Kildare sucked in a sharp breath as he watched the man clutch at his throat, gurgling, blood seeping between his fingers and quickly pooling on the floor. Kildare turned away.


    ¡°Had to be done, Kil. He saw our faces.¡± Snitch wiped his knife on the man¡¯s tunic with a casual callousness.


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    Kildare swallowed back his reply, feeling his throat burn with bile, and followed Snitch into the display room.


    Gas lanterns flickered along the walls of the display room, illuminating Lord Datheil¡¯s treasures in soft orange light. At the end of the room were two large, arched stained glass windows, the windows Kildare had sat above on the roof just thirty minutes before. And between them was the statue.


    ¡°Rot,¡± Kildare swore quietly.


    Snitch, standing watch at the doorway, turned. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s bigger than our buyer mentioned.¡±


    The rose-marble horse, carved with amazing attention to detail, was two feet tall, resting on a wooden pedestal that brought its inlaid ruby eyes to nearly his eye level. Kildare stepped up to it, trying to find somewhere where he could even get a hold of the carving.


    He glanced around the rest of the room, at the paintings hung on the wall and the other, smaller statues scattered around the room. Why couldn¡¯t their buyer have picked anything other than this stupid horse? He¡¯d really been hoping to snatch a few extra things to fence on the side, but this¡­ This might take both him and Snitch, and they wouldn¡¯t be able to move quickly.


    ¡°Rot, rot, rot,¡± Snitch muttered. ¡°Kil, we got company.¡±


    Kildare focused and, above the murmurs of noise coming from the banquet hall, he could hear the stomping of feet on the wooden gallery floor. His stomach knotted tighter as he glanced around the room. If they didn¡¯t get the statue, the reputation he and his team had worked so hard to cultivate would plummet. Contrary to what most thought, criminals were a talkative bunch, especially if it gave them an opportunity to bad-mouth their competition.


    His eyes fell on the two tall, stained-glass arched windows. Stars and stones. ¡°Snitch!¡±


    ¡°Little busy here. Looks like we¡¯re gonna have a fight on our hands.¡±


    For the love of¡­ He didn¡¯t have time to argue. Kildare crossed the room at a run, grabbed Snitch¡¯s arm, and hauled him back to the statue.


    ¡°Kil!¡± The thief flailed at him. ¡°They¡¯re gonna¡ª¡±


    ¡°No. More. Killing.¡± Kildare shoved him at the statue. ¡°Hang tight.¡±


    Snitch grabbed at the horse¡¯s ears, puzzlement crossing his face. ¡°What¡¯re you¡ª¡±


    Kil shifted.


    Scales took the place of skin, first along the dark stripes on his cheekbones and neck, then the backs of his arms and hands. Kildare felt his fingernails lengthen to claws as his wings unfurled from his arms and shoulders. His panic thrummed along his scales in an almost physical touch, his heightened senses immediately picking up the smells of fear and anger and bloodlust in the men gathering outside the door.


    Snitch let go of the statue with one hand and grabbed at the throwing knives sheathed along his other arm. His eyes widened as he looked past Kildare¡¯s shoulder.


    Kildare snarled, wrapped his claws around the statue¡¯s middle, and lunged at the window. Inwardly, the non-feral part of his brain cringed as he burst through the beautiful stained glass. But at the moment, his feral side was in full control, screaming at him to get away at all costs. Glass burst across his back, skittering across his scales.


    Snitch screeched in shock and dropped his throwing knife. The thief clung to the statue¡¯s ears with both hands and wrapped his legs around the horse¡¯s neck.


    As soon as he cleared the window, the weight of Snitch and the statue yanked on Kildare¡¯s legs. Rain whipped into him, instantly chilling his scales. He flapped his wings desperately. Glanced down.


    The gilt wooden roof of a carriage plummeted up to meet them. Kildare flapped again, felt something along the back of his wing give a sharp, shooting pain. Heaving with all his might, he shook Snitch loose of the statue. The thief hit the carriage roof, rolling across it and to the ground.


    Kildare and the statue crashed into the carriage. The wood collapsed like wet paper under their combined weight. Splintering sounds split the air, along with the panicked shouts of the driver and the squeals of the startled horses. Kildare hit the statue¡¯s head, bounced off it, and landed flat on his back in the rubble of the carriage¡¯s interior.


    He lay still for a moment, blinking into the rain. Without focus, his wyvern shape slowly shifted back to human.


    ¡°Kil?¡± Snitch¡¯s voice sounded like it echoed to him through a tunnel.


    At least the rain felt warmer to his human skin than his wyvern scales. He tried to sit up. Throbbing pain radiated through his shoulder and down to his elbow, and he collapsed back with a yelp. He¡¯d torn something¡ªthe joint, maybe the muscle.


    Snitch¡¯s face appeared above his own. ¡°Bloody idiot!¡± He gripped Kildare under the arms and dragged him out of the wreckage.


    Kildare squirmed free and stood, wincing. Rain trickled into tiny cuts along his back and arms, courtesy of the carriage splinters. He swept his dripping hair out of his face, glancing around the courtyard. Covered lanterns blazed, creating bright pools over light that provided them very little cover. The two horses were still hitched to the carriage, stomping their feet and attempting to drag the wreckage away. The driver was nowhere to be seen. There were also no guards, although Kildare had a feeling that would change shortly.


    ¡°Blight it all, Kil. That was an overly dramatic exit.¡± Fir appeared around the corner of the carriage, grinning as he grabbed the nearest horse¡¯s halter.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Mock?¡± Kil asked. He could still feel the feralness of his wyvern form itching at his skin. His ears twitched at the sound of shouts from inside the keep, and he rubbed at them.


    Fir pointed, and Kildare heard the rattle of wheels behind him. He spun.


    Mock sat in the driver¡¯s seat of a carriage¡ªnot the one she and Fir had arrived in¡ªand tugged the horses to a stop beside them. ¡°Stars, Kil, why did you¡ª¡± She caught sight of the statue and groaned. ¡°He didn¡¯t say it was that big!¡±


    ¡°Hence the dramatic exit,¡± Kildare said. ¡°Help me get it in here.¡±


    ¡°Kil, we don¡¯t have time!¡± Snitch said, pointing.


    Panic spiked through Kildare¡¯s chest. He looked over his shoulder. A few figures staggered through the gray smoke billowing from the keep¡¯s front door. Soldiers, from their bulky shapes. One man stumbled to his knees on the top of the steps and started coughing, hand to his throat.


    It wouldn¡¯t be long until they shook off the effects of the smoke bomb and came charging after them.


    No, no, no¡ªrot it all, we can¡¯t ¡ª Kildare looked at Mock. ¡°We can¡¯t just run away from a job.¡± I need this money.


    Fir slapped Snitch¡¯s arm. ¡°C¡¯mon. With all of us working together, we can get this. Kil¡¯s right.¡±


    Mock rolled her eyes, hitched up her skirt, and jumped down from the carriage.


    They all grabbed a section of the statue and shoved it through the door of the carriage, then climbed in. Mock resumed her place in the seat, and Snitch crawled out the back window to stand on the footmen¡¯s rest, watching as they rattled away from the keep.


    Kildare sunk back against the cushions, groaning as his arm twinged again.


    ¡°That,¡± Fir muttered, collapsing beside him, ¡°was a first rate screw up, as far as I¡¯m concerned.¡±


    Kildare nodded and patted the horse statue¡¯s flank. ¡°But we got it.¡±


    Fir threw his head back and laughed. ¡°That¡¯s true. We did get it.¡±

 Chapter 4: Kildare

    Kildare hunched in front of the inn¡¯s common room fireplace, rubbing at his hands in a desperate attempt to work some of the chill out of his bones. They¡¯d traveled the night of the heist, all the next day, and had finally arrived here in Helryen, where the buyer had set up their meeting point. It had poured rain the entire time, and the chill had seeped into his skin, like it would never leave.


    Kildare clenched his teeth so they wouldn¡¯t chatter. He desperately hoped that their next job would take them to a warmer climate. Not Lerem in the spring. Never again. Rotted swampland.


    Fir flopped into the chair opposite him and pushed a drink across the table. ¡°Mulled wine.¡±


    Kildare grabbed it and gulped half the tankard. It burned down his throat and he closed his eyes and breathed out, relishing the feel of steam in his nostrils. He started to upend the rest of the wine into his mouth, but Fir reached out, caught his arm, the bark-like skin of his hand producing a faint scraping noise against Kildare''s own rough-textured arm.


    ¡°Easy, easy.¡± Fir lowered his voice. ¡°It may be Lerem but¡­you never know who might be willing to earn some extra coin from slave traders.¡±


    Kildare glanced over at the bar on the far side of the room. The scrawny barkeeper, just a few years younger than himself, ducked his head, pretending to be absorbed in scrubbing a sticky spot on the bar. Kildare twisted his lips to the side. Fir was right. Even though wyvern could walk free in Lerem, it still paid to be careful. Unscrupulous people had no problem kidnapping wyverns and spiriting them away in the middle of the night, to be later sold into slavery in other countries. Do¡¯or or Ermen or Teshinn would welcome another shifter slave.


    He smacked the cup down on the table and sighed. ¡°When are Mock and Snitch due back from meeting the buyer?¡±


    ¡°Any time now I think.¡± There was a short pause, and then Fir said quietly, ¡°Are you¡­feeling all right?¡±


    Kildare raised his head. Fir had his arms folded on the table top, leaning against them as he surveyed Kildare with a worried expression. Kildare forced a grin. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t bother about me. I¡¯m just tired of being cold.¡±


    Fir snorted. ¡°We¡¯re all tired of being cold.¡±


    The front door slammed open, wafting a burst of cold air and rain into the place. Snitch and Mock stomped in, shaking their cloaks and hoods out and scraping their muddy boots on the hemp-bristle rug. Mock came straight to them, while Snitch headed to the bar.


    ¡°Get it?¡± Kildare asked in a low voice.


    Mock sat beside him on the bench and placed a hand on the bag at her side. ¡°Double, even.¡±


    Kildare raised his eyebrows. H''d told Mock to renegotiate the deal, but he hadn''t expected that. ¡°How¡¯d you manage that?¡±


    ¡°Oh, y¡¯know.¡± Snitch plunked down beside Fir. ¡°A little blackmail, a little threat¡­does wonders for someone¡¯s attitude.¡±


    Kildare felt a brief flash of sympathy for the buyer. But, he¡¯d been the one stupid enough to seek them out personally, rather than go through an intermediary. People were stupid¡ªthey never expected thieves to use every advantage they could get.


    Mock unclasped her cloak pin and set the cloak and her satchel in a neat bundle beside her on the bench. The barkeep came over, bringing a tray with a glass of wine for Mock and two small glasses filled with a honey-colored drink¡ªSnitch¡¯s favorite, violetia. Kildare could smell the floral liquor a mile away.


    Snitch waited until the barkeep had left, then raised one glass. ¡°Here¡¯s to money.¡± He downed the drink in one gulp and slammed the glass on the table, grimacing.


    ¡°Here¡¯s to another successful job,¡± Kildare said, raising his mug and forcing a smile on his face.


    Mock and Fir joined him in the toast.


    Snitch sipped his second glass, a flush already rising to his cheeks from the strong liquor. ¡°Should we head up to our rooms and count our spoils?¡± His voice already had a slight slur to it.


    Kildare shot him a worried look. The violetia was strong, almost medicinal, but it usually didn¡¯t hit Snitch that quickly. "Worried he shorted us?"


    "Nah, just wanna get on to celebrating." Snitch winked at Mock.


    Mock rolled her eyes.


    Snitch got up, heading for the stairs at the back of the room. His gait looked steady, still, but as Kildare watched, Snitch put one hand out, brushing against the edge of the table as if to assure himself that it really was where he thought it was.


    He sighed. ¡°Fir, go order some food for us, would you? Snitch is probably going to need it.¡±


    Fir nodded. ¡°Another round too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please,¡± Mock said quickly, getting up to follow Snitch. ¡°If he''s so bent on ''celebrating'', I¡¯ll need all the drink I can get.¡±


    Fir glanced at Kildare and mouthed, That¡¯s still going?


    Kildare shrugged. Mock and Snitch¡¯s relationship was so volatile and spontaneous he could never tell from one night to the next if Snitch would be sharing a room with him and Fir, or if he¡¯d be sharing with Mock.


    He caught up with Mock. ¡°Has Snitch already been drinking?¡±


    ¡°He made me stop at two taverns on the way here,¡± Mock muttered, crossing her arms. Her charm bracelets clinked and rattled against each other as she did so, and she rubbed one of the pendants strung around her neck¡ªthe silver engraved heart, if Kildare could tell it correctly. She¡¯d once told him it was a Teshinn love charm.


    He held back a sigh and curled his forefinger against his thumb, rubbing just below the joint. A quiet pang of longing shot through his chest. He needed to find time to sneak away later tonight. ¡°If he¡¯s a nuisance, just kick him out and come tell him to bunk with us¡ªor you can, if you need to. I¡¯ll sleep on the floor.¡±


    She gave him a quiet, trusting smile. ¡°Thanks, Kil.¡±


    Fir brought up two platters of cold slices of meat, slices of cheese, pickles, carrots, and flatbread to their suite on the top floor of the inn. The pickles were a bit mushy, and the carrots withered from a long winter in the root cellar, but it was food, and as good or better than they''d find anywhere else. They ate and counted the coins, only breaking silence to tell their tallies to Kildare, who added them all together and nodded.


    ¡°Two thousand even,¡± he announced.


    There was none of the cheering, back-slapping, or hugs that had accompanied earlier heists. Everyone smiled, looked satisfied, scooped their portions into purses. Kildare tucked the five hundred goldmarks into his bag, mentally tallying his savings.


    Everyone else spread out around the suite. Fir and Snitch cleared the table of empty platters and began playing a game of cards. Mock curled up in the corner near the fireplace, pulled out her pouch of luck charms and talismans, and began re-braiding them into her hair.


    Kildare retrieved his book and tried to read, but soon found himself just scanning the same page over and over. His mind turned to the team. They were all in a strange mood tonight. Celebratory, yes, but a year ago, they would¡¯ve gone out carousing, drinking, and singing until the sun came up. Was it because Mock was mad at Snitch?


    He shook his head at the idea. Mock was almost always mad at Snitch. Maybe it was because of how near to disaster the last job had come. And Snitch was still sore at him for the scolding about his kills.


    He rubbed his thumb again.


    "You''re antsier than a dragon with an itchy scale," Snitch said in his ear.


    Kildare jumped, then clenched the hardback book tightly in his hands. He hadn''t noticed the pickpocket get up, or even sneak up on him. The thief stared at him, disconcertingly close. Kildare''s fingers twitched into a fist, and he had to fight the deeply-ingrained instinct that told him to punch and run.


    ¡°Snitch,¡± Mock scolded.


    ¡°Well, he is.¡± Snitch¡¯s breath smelled like violetia, flowery and bitter. He straightened up, still swaying a little. ¡°Thinkin¡¯ about Serene?¡±


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    ¡°Snitch,¡± Fir said, warning in his tone.


    Kildare kept his eyes steadily on Snitch. ¡°We didn¡¯t see her this time. Why would I be thinking about her?¡±


    Snitch shrugged. ¡°Dunno. Seems as though she¡¯s been quiet the last six months or so. Wonder why that is. She was snatching things right and left, right from under our noses, for a while there. So why quit all of a sudden? She sure had you in a twist.¡±


    ¡°But she hasn¡¯t lately, so why bother?¡± Kildare demanded.


    Snitch stared at him. Kildare stared back.


    ¡°You sure you didn¡¯t see her this last job? Maybe she¡¯s the one who caused everything to go wrong. The maid girl,¡± Snitch said.


    Kildare shook his head. "That wasn¡¯t her.¡±


    ¡°You sure? Cause¡ª"


    ¡°That. Wasn¡¯t. Her.¡± Kildare bit out the words.


    Finally Snitch shrugged and broke eye contact. "If you say so."


    A twinge panged through Kildare''s chest. Snitch didn''t believe him. "I''m going to bed," he said, tossing his book down on his chair.


    ¡°Aww, c¡¯mon, Kil,¡± Fir protested. ¡°Don¡¯t go pout.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s drunk, Kil,¡± Mock said. ¡°You know how Snitch is. Don¡¯t walk out in a huff, you¡¯re playing right into his hands.¡±


    Snitch snorted angrily and looked away.


    Kildare just shook his head and walked through the doorway to his room, shutting the door behind him. For a fancy inn, the room was small, but he hadn''t chosen the room because of that. He locked the door and sighed heavily, then reached for the dragonsbane-fiber leggings on the bed.


    Drunk or not, Snitch had managed to break open the same old wound again.


    He pushed open the window, reached out and grabbed the gutter hanging over the roof''s overhand, and heaved himself up onto the windowsill. From his seated position, he was able to easily climb up onto the roof.


    Kildare crouched at the edge for a moment. It had stopped raining, finally. Wind whistled through the maze of chimneypots and rooftops, and the moon peered from between the ragged edges of two clouds. He shivered and rubbed his bare arms. Below him on the street, covered gas lanterns sputtered, and beyond the circle of wealthy inns, shops, and houses in the middle of the town, darkness stretched. The poorer sections couldn''t afford gas lanterns, which meant that as the rain had put out their torches and lanterns, they''d stayed out.


    He swallowed a lump in his throat. They could be doing so much more. Memories of childhood nights spent huddled in broken refuse barrels and under hanging eaves to avoid the rain rose in his memory. Kildare shoved them away and looked down from the rest of the town.


    He scanned the windows across the inn''s U-shaped courtyard and spotted a red underskirt hanging from an open frame, as if the skirt was drying in the evening breeze. His heartbeat quickened a little, and Kildare ran a hand around his suddenly warm neck.


    Snitch knew. Or suspected.


    He hadn''t meant it to be like this, all the sneaking around. At first, she''d been an annoyance. Following their heists, and sometimes even breaking in and snatching the item they were after before they had a chance to. Leaving notes with hidden messages on them, messages that asked for his help.


    It had gone from irritation to rivalry to obsession. And then he''d actually caught her, doing recon before a job. If only he''d known how much his life would change that night...


    Kildare shifted into his wyvern form. He lifted his wings to catch the breeze, leaped, and sailed across the courtyard. Just before he hit the opposite wall, he shifted back, grabbed the window frame, and slid into the room. He turned back to the window and grabbed the underskirt, folding it up carefully.


    "Serene?" he called softly.


    There was a splash, and her voice rang from the bath area. "Sparks almighty, Kil!" Her head popped above the foldout partition, wet hair and shifter stripes glistening in the moonlight. She tried to frown at him. "One of these days, sir, I''m going to accidentally stab you when you keep sneaking up on me like that."


    Kildare laughed and pulled the windowpane closed. He paused a moment, watching the lit window across the courtyard, where his team still sat, Fir and Snitch once again bent over a game of cards. Mock joined them at the table, wrapping the end of a braid in colored thread to keep it tied, and suddenly looked out the window, across the courtyard. Kildare stepped back. He knew she couldn''t see him, but still. He took a deep breath and turned away from the window.


    He hadn''t known what to expect the night he''d finally decided to meet her, like she''d been requesting. He hadn''t expected to be able to sneak up on her, either. Kildare still vividly remembered the moment he''d gotten her pinned to the ground and had yanked her hood back.. Then he''d seen the stripes on the woman''s cheeks and neck.


    She could''ve killed him then, but she didn''t. Instead, she had sat up and moved away, asking him to please hear her out.


    It had started as a game, but now she was serious. She wanted on his team. And since they operated as a separate team, not under the jurisdiction of any crimelord of any city, that meant she''d taken things into her own hands to get his attention. That had intrigued him enough to agree to meet up with her again a few nights later. And again. Late nights talking had led to comfort, an ease that Kildare hadn''t felt since he''d left his hometown in Ermen. Maybe it was the attraction of being the only two shifters in the business. Either way, he could never remember who had started that first kiss.


    A light touch caressed his shoulder, and he turned around. Serene smiled as she finished tying the belt of her soft cotton robe. "I''m glad to see you tonight."


    Kildare leaned in and kissed her gently. "I missed you."


    "You too, Kil." She pronounced it ''Kyle'', like his parents had. ''Kyle-dare'', not ''Kill-dare'' like his team. It was one of the few things he remembered about his parents.


    It was just another little thing that made him love her even more.


    She turned away and picked up a towel from the dresser, scrubbing at her hair. "How''d the job go the other night?"


    Kildare stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Later," he muttered.


    Serene giggled and hunched her shoulders. Kildare tangled his fingers in her still-wet hair and pressed his lips to hers. She leaned against him, pushing him a stumbling few steps backward. Kildare sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her into his lap.


    Yeah. Definitely later.


    ***


    Kildare lay in bed, watching the sunrise through the curtains. His team would still be asleep, so he felt no need to hurry, but there was still a persistent itch in the back of his mind that wouldn''t go away. He was going to have to tell them that he''d bonded the woman they all disliked, the one they thought was still following them around, taunting them about their jobs. The one they blamed for everything going wrong.


    Snitch especially would be hurt. He may have grown up a street kid, just like all of them...but Snitch had always worn his heart on his sleeve. And his defense mechanism was lashing out. When Snitch found out Kildare had, in essence, betrayed them... Kildare winced at the thought.


    Serene nestled her head against his shoulder, and he absently ran his fingers through the silky strands of her dark red hair.


    "Were you at the banquet the other night?" he asked, then winced again.


    Serene frowned and propped herself up on her elbow. "You asked me to stay out of it."


    "I know, I know. I''m sorry." He''d done his homework when she''d first asked to join his team. As smitten as he''d been, he wasn''t stupid. Everything he''d found showed that Serene had been nothing but forthcoming.


    And still I haven''t told my team. Kildare winced.


    Serene''s fingertips grazed the stripes on his cheek. "What''s wrong?"


    "One of these days, we''re going to have to tell the team."


    She bit her lower lip. "How much money do we have saved up?"


    That was the problem. Her boss held her under contract. Serene had been doing jobs on the side for years, even before she''d met him, but with the two of them putting money toward it, they''d almost saved enough to break her contract, years sooner than she''d ever have hoped to do it alone.


    "We got lucky...Snitch and Mock were able to weasel another thousand from our buyer this time because of the mess it ended up being. We should be able to do it after one more job, maybe two if they''re small," he said. "Then you can be free of me."


    She punched his arm. "Don''t joke about that."


    Kildare nodded, pushing the dark thoughts away. She''d been nothing but forthright with him yet. She didn''t deserve him thinking that as soon as he bought her contract, she''d take off. And yet, the cynic in his mind didn''t quite back down. Kildare rubbed his thumb along the unity tattoo. He''d have to redo the makeup on it before his team got up.


    Kildare leaned over and gave Serene a deep kiss, trying to drive out the thoughts in his head. She hummed contentedly and wrapped her arms around him. Kildare rolled over on top of her, pressing kisses down her neck and collarbone. Serene shivered. He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other clasping the back of her neck.


    Serene glanced to the side, then sighed and pushed him off. "You should probably be getting back. Before people are awake enough to notice a shifter sneaking into one of the windows."


    Kildare grunted and tried to steal another kiss. "I''ll walk."


    She smirked. "You''ll walk? In your dragonsbane leggings? As if that wouldn''t be as much of a giveaway."


    "Good point." He tapped the tip of her nose and got out of bed. The pink and gold streaks of dawn had given way to a half-circle of light burning over the rooftops. Kildare dressed and pushed open the window, glancing across the courtyard. The suite window was dark now.


    "What are your plans for the next few days?" he asked.


    "I''m chasing down a lead," Serene said. "I''ll have to have something to show for my time away, unless I want Basalt to grow suspicious. Are you planning any more jobs?"


    "If we can find one out of Lerem, I''d only be too happy," Kildare said. "I''ll wind-speak to you once I know more."


    She got up and leaned against him. "Are you sure we can''t..."


    "They''re antsy right now. That job..." He shook his head. "It worked out, but Snitch thinks you were responsible somehow. Let''s let their fears die down a bit."


    She tipped her head so their noses touched, then pinched his side.


    "Ow!" Kildare jerked away. "What was that¡ª"


    "I''m getting tired of waiting." Serene grinned and poked him in the belly. "I want to meet your family."


    Kildare grinned and snatched her wrist when she tried to poke him again. He pulled her closer and kissed her. Serene snuggled in close to him, and Kildare felt a pang through his chest. He didn''t want to leave. He wanted to tumble back into bed with her. Or take her over to his team and introduce them all to her.


    But it wasn''t the right time. Soon, but not now.


    Every time they did this, walking away from each other for days at a time, it hurt worse. Like the cords binding them were stronger, thicker, and leaving stretched them too much.


    He pressed his hands to her jaw, took a deep breath, and kissed her like it was his last time to do so. Like he always did. "I''ll see you soon, my fire in the sky."


    Then he turned and climbed out of the window.

 Chapter 5: Serene

    Serene closed her eyes and breathed deeply, pulling Kildare¡¯s pillow to her nose. His scent was faint¡ªonly the faintest hint of wood smoke.


    She missed him. So much.


    Then she sighed and tossed the pillow down. She''dspent all of her life hiding in shadows. Just for once, she¡¯d love to be¡­what? Open and honest? Find friends? Meet the people Kildare loved and trusted as his family?


    That was it. She wanted what he had¡ªfamily. Loyalty.


    She smirked. How did hope keep growing even after a lifetime of no light or warmth?


    She dressed, pulling her dragonsbane leggings and cropped, sleeveless shirt on first, then the red underskirt, the long, straight-skirted dress, and the underbust corset. Serene looked in the mirror as she adjusted the garments, smoothing everything into place. She hated it. She much preferred the flow and ease of Do¡¯or garments, or Alfaren. Of course, Kil hated the cold of Lerem, so she guessed they would both be glad to get out of the swampy country.


    She paused in opening her makeup box, staring at her unity tattoo. Here in a few days, it would be six months since they''d made their vows to each other and received the tattoos, in a tiny, hidden wyvern colony in Teshinn...


    "Will you trust me, Kil?"


    "I already do."


    But she''d doubted, and he''d seen that doubt. And he''d immediately dropped to his knees in front of her, bowed his head, and spoken the first words of the unity vows.


    "Will you fly the drafts and soar the clouds with me always, until we sail over the edge of the world to the lands beyond?"


    Serene swallowed the lump in her throat and returned to smoothing makeup over her wyvern stripes.


    She wrapped her scarlet silk scarf¡ªKil¡¯s latest gift to her¡ªaround her neck, then slipped on the tailored, tailed coat and buttoned it tightly, then threw her cloak on over the whole mess.


    She left the room, locking it tightly behind her, and started down the hallway.


    The door next to hers clicked open, and out of instinct Serene glanced over her shoulder.


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    Eras.


    Her heart skipped, and Serene stared at the white haired Do¡¯orite woman, breathing heavily. Eras stretched one arm above her head and leaned on the door frame. She looked Serene up and down and whistled mockingly. ¡°Trying to look like a proper lady now?¡±


    ¡°You were the one who taught me to blend in,¡± Serene snapped. "What''re you doing here?"


    Eras shrugged one shoulder. "Just checking in. You''ve been gone for a while¡ªBasalt was starting to get nervous." She straightened and shot Serene a grin. "I heard voices from your room last night. Sounded like you were enjoying yourself.¡±


    Kil. Serene tamped down her spike of fear and gave Eras an annoyed glance. "You''re spying on me again."


    Eras laughed and stepped across the hallway, tapping Serene on the chin. "Basalt and I have invested too much in you to let you go that easily."


    Don''t flinch. Don''t back away. "Both of you had better get used to the idea. I only have five years left before I can buy my way out of the contract."


    "So you think." Eras smirked. "Basalt''s thinking of raising the price."


    Serene''s eyes widened. "Again?" Rot it all. Her voice was too shaky.


    "Oh, chin up, my darling wyvern." Eras chucked her under the chin. "I said he''s only thinking of it. Now, you''d best tell me what''s going through your head right now, otherwise I might start thinking that you and lover boy have plans that don''t include coming back to Do''or."


    It felt like there was a stone in her gut, weighing her down, but Serene straightened her shoulders and faced Eras. "I wouldn''t worry about him¡ªhe''s just someone I met last night." She raised one hand in a half shrug. "Like you said, I may as well enjoy myself a little." Stars above, please don''t ever let Kil hear me talking like this. "I have my eye on a nice emerald necklace. I''m just going to do reconnaissance now¡ªwould you care to join me?"


    Eras''s lips thinned into a smile. "Not now. I''d best get back to Basalt."


    Serene nodded and turned, still feeling Eras''s eyes on her. Halfway down the staircase, she stopped. "Eras?" she said over her shoulder.


    "Yes, Serene?"


    "You never told me why you were in Lerem."


    Eras chuckled. "Just running an errand for Basalt."


    Serene nodded and continued down the stairs. She pushed open the door that opened into the courtyard and forced herself to keep a steady pace across the swept, damp cobblestones and out the gate. Then she darted into a side street leaned against the side of a building, letting herself feel everything. The surprise, the terror. She rolled her shoulders forward and steadied her breathing, hoping it would calm her racing heart.


    Eras had come so close to discovering Kil. The one secret that she''d managed to keep from her and Basalt.


    Serene closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Kil. My love. We have to get away from them.

 Chapter 6: Kildare

    Someone hammered on the door.


    Kildare jolted out of sleep and slammed forward into the headboard. Groaning, he rolled over onto his back and pressed the heels of his hands to his face. "Who is it?" he growled.


    The door creaked open. "Hey, Kil..." Snitch stopped. "You all right?"


    Kildare dropped his head back on the pillow. ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep so well.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Snitch leaned against the door frame. Seemingly subconsciously, his fingers rapped an uneven rhythm on the wood for a moment before he said, ¡°You know¡­I was drunk last night, so if you were awake thinking of what I said¡­¡±


    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t mean it, that¡¯s not¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, I absolutely meant it,¡± Snitch interrupted. ¡°I just shouldn¡¯ta said it that way.¡±


    Of course. He should¡¯ve known that Snitch would never apologize for saying what was on his mind, drunk or not. Kildare shrugged. ¡°I¡¯d rather you get it off your chest then let it fester.¡±


    Snitch paused in drumming his fingers, and made a face. ¡°Aww, for once, I wish you¡¯d stop it with the gracious leader thing and just take a swing at me. Show me what you really feel.¡±


    ¡°Snitch.¡± Kildare sat up slowly and ran his hands through his hair, then glared at the thief. ¡°I do not want to have this conversation before I have kafe. Suffice it to say that I do mean what I said. No, I do not hold what you said against you. No, I do not want to punch you¡ªyet. but I might unless you leave me alone until I can find some rotting kafe."


    Snitch rolled his eyes and left the door swinging open without another comment.


    Kildare got up and stretched, wincing as his shoulder and arm twinged. Serene had massaged his shoulders and neck last night, and while that had helped, his muscles were still a bit sore from crashing into the carriage two¡­no, three days ago now.


    He pulled on a fresh shirt and pants and stumbled out of his bedroom. Fir sat at the table, spooning steaming oatmeal into his mouth, nearly dripping some onto his shirt as he flipped slowly through a book laid flat on the table.


    ¡°Any good this morning?¡± Kildare asked, sliding into the seat across from him and grabbing the only spoon and bowl left on the table.


    Fir looked up, eyebrows arched. ¡°The food or the book?¡±


    ¡°The food, obviously.¡± Kildare gestured at the single block of text on the book¡¯s open page. ¡°You¡¯re reading poetry now?¡±


    Fir propped up the book so Kildare could see the title. ¡°It¡¯s a set of legends about Jakan Roliwyn. Some of them come in poem form.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s supposedly the guy who split the mountain of Lerem in two and let the sea flood half the land, isn¡¯t it?¡± Snitch asked, shuffling deck of cards in his hands. "He was on one of the tapestries in Lord Datheil''s keep."


    ¡°Supposedly. He''s a popular myth with the Leremite nobility. Hey.¡± Fir pointed at the cards. ¡°Rematch after I¡¯m done with breakfast?¡±


    Snitch grinned. ¡°You lost five goldmarks to me last night, you really wanna loose more to me this morning?¡±


    Mock looked up from her book. ¡°You lost?¡±


    ¡°Barely. And I won back fifteen, anyway.¡± Fir snatched the cards from Snitch and shuffled them himself, flipping cards over and under his hands. He cut the deck into four stacks on the table, then shuffled them together, and then riffled them from one hand to the other. He raised one eyebrow and grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t you trust Lord Thorne, master of illusions? I can get it back.¡±


    Mock glanced over at Kildare, wrinkles settling into place between her eyebrows. Kildare¡¯s stomach sank. He¡¯d missed something¡ªsomewhere in the last few months when he¡¯d been so worried about Serene, he¡¯d missed something. He¡¯d have to talk to Mock later and figure out why she looked so concerned.


    Snitch swept the deck of cards up and nudged Kildare out of the way. ¡°I may not have fancy hands like you, but I can still beat Lord Thorne and his fancy magic tricks.¡± He flopped down on the bench across from Fir and started counting out cards.


    Kildare moved the almost-empty pot of oatmeal away and gathered up the empty dishes and spoons sitting on the table. ¡°I¡¯ll take this downstairs. Try not to make his wallet hurt too much, Snitch.¡±


    Fir made a shocked face, mouth hanging comically open, hand splayed on his chest. ¡°My oldest, my dearest friend, the brother I longed for¡ªyou wound me with your lack of confidence.¡±


    Kildare chuckled.


    ¡°I¡¯ll help you.¡± Mock put her book down and grabbed the empty dishes from Kildare.


    Kildare let her. It wasn¡¯t as if the whole kit¡ªthe pot, the bowls and utensils, and the cloth napkins and hot pad¡ªwould be too much for him to carry down to the kitchens in one trip. But from her look earlier, and the earnest expression she was giving him now, he knew she wanted to talk to him.


    Kildare swung the door open and followed Mock out into the hall. ¡°So, what¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked her in a low voice.


    The charms in Mock¡¯s hair chinked together softly as she looked at him. ¡°Fir¡¯s been gambling a lot more lately.¡±


    Kildare frowned. When had Fir started gambling in the first place? He vaguely remembered Fir playing a few dice games when they were younger, perhaps seventeen or so. And he knew that the cards and the dice had been infrequent pursuits since then. His familiarity with cards had been one of the reasons they''d gone with the Lord and Lady Thorne scheme in the first place. But regularly gambling? ¡°Is he loosing large amounts of money?¡±


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    Mock shook her head. ¡°No, he hasn¡¯t said anything about that. He hasn¡¯t told you anything?¡±


    Kildare shrugged. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I thought you two were best friends. That¡¯s surprising that he hasn¡¯t told you.¡±


    Was it his imagination, or was there a bit of bite to Mock¡¯s words? A bit of scorn that he hadn¡¯t noticed before. Kildare tried not to flinch. ¡°Sometimes even best friends keep secrets, Mock. Especially if they¡¯re ashamed of them.¡± His neck and cheeks flushed warm. Do I keep Serene a secret because¡­no. That¡¯s stupid. He shoved the thought away and followed Mock down the stairs.


    They carried the dirty dishes to the bar of the common room and set them down. Mock leaned on the bar and looked up at Kildare, mouth pursed to the side in thought. ¡°I know we all have vices, Kil, but secrets? We don¡¯t keep secrets from each other. We¡¯re family.¡±


    Kildare eased his hands into his pockets. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on it, if you think I should.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ll see if I can talk to him about it.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else you can tell me? Explain why you¡¯re worried?¡±


    ¡°No, I just¡­¡± She worried at her lower lip. ¡°I just get the feeling that he¡¯s stressed sometimes. I think we¡¯ve all been stressed, honestly, but¡­Fir¡¯s never really been this tense, you know?¡±


    Kildare nodded, inwardly trying not to squirm. He hadn''t noticed any of this. I''ve been neglecting everyone.


    Mock sighed and rubbed at her forehead. "Maybe I''m just reading into too much right now. Maybe we''re just all tired, between the last job, and the cold and the rain..." She gave Kildare a wan smile. "I''m going to go upstairs and make sure they''re not squabbling over a single goldmark."


    "Sure, I''ll just make sure the bartender knows we returned these." Kildare gestured at the pot and bowls. "And maybe order some kafe. You want anything?"


    She shook her head. "Thanks though."


    As Mock turned and headed back up the stairs, Kildare slouched against the bar, tapping his fingers on the side. Secrets. Too many secrets.


    "Kildare Wingard?"


    He stiffened and looked up.


    A Do''orite woman with long, silky white hair sat at a table not far away. She gestured him closer. "You are Kildare Wingard, are you not?"


    Kildare nodded and glanced around the common room. The table the woman sat at was tucked between the fireplace and the bar and had a clear view of the door. She sat facing the door and had turned sideways to address him. The rest of the room was empty, although a tub of dirty dishes sat on an uncleaned table, along with a couple of sopping rags, suggested that the barkeep had begun cleaning up after the breakfast rush.


    He tapped louder on the bar. "Barkeep!"


    The man appeared from the kitchen. "Sir?"


    "Kafe for me, with cream and honey. And for the lady..." Kildare glanced over at her.


    She smiled. "Teshinn tea, please. Black, with honey."


    The barkeep nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen. Kildare considered his seating options. He could sit beside the woman, able to see the front door, but the idea of being within easy arm reach of someone unknown made him nervous.


    The barkeeper reappeared from the kitchen, put two steaming mugs on the bar, then disappeared again.


    Kildare straightened and walked to the opposite side of the table and sat down, back to the door. His neck itched, but he shrugged the feeling off. He handed the tea across to the woman, who took it with a nod and sipped at it.


    Kildare blew across the surface of his drink, watching the white cream and brown kafe twist and swirl around each other in the mug. He glanced up across the table, watching as the woman took a sip of her drink, then placed it precisely centered in front of her on the table.


    "My name is Eras," the woman said, putting her mug down. "As you''ve probably guessed, I have a job proposal for you and your team, if you''re open."


    Kildare nodded and set his own drink down, resting his elbows on the table. "We just finished a job, and are considering our options from here." Best to not let her know they have nothing planned as of yet. "Let''s hear your proposal."


    "All right. We have a job in Rohondeish, a seaport on the Do''or coast. I''m not at liberty to give you the details myself, but I can tell you that it would pay very, very well." She paused.


    Kildare waited, but the woman just sipped her tea, smiling. He leaned forward. "It''s a nice start, but I''m going to need more information than that."


    "What would you like to know?"


    He thought for a moment. "Where would the job be taking place? And how much pay is ''very, very well''?"


    Eras nodded. "There''s a museum¡ªmore of an old city hall, really, that was gilded up and repurposed to be a museum¡ªwhere the item in question is on display." She cocked her head to the side. "Surely an enterprising young man like yourself can work out the implications of such a location on your own."


    Kildare nodded. A museum would have plenty of valuable pieces on display¡ªsmall pieces, easily grabbed on the way to and from their primary target. Pieces that he could probably find a fence for without much trouble, or without having to sit on the item for very long. "Anything extra in the coffers is welcome."


    "Really?" Eras said. "I was under the impression that you were very frugal."


    He gestured to the kafe, then around the tavern, hoping it would be vague enough that she wouldn''t press. "I have my little luxuries."


    "Well, if it piques your interest..." She leaned forward. "How does a thousand goldmarks per team member sound?"


    Kildare was really glad he hadn''t taken a drink, otherwise he would have coughed it up into Eras''s face. "A thousand?"


    She shrugged. "My employer thinks that it would be a fair price. It will take...what, five or six days to travel from here to the coast? How many days to plan and execute the job? Given the expenses required and the difficulty of the job, we thought it was a fair price."


    Generally, if there was the chance of getting other items during the job, their employers would offer a lower amount right off the bat. Sometimes, they''d accepted it. Lately, they could afford to be a bit more picky. But a thousand goldmarks each... Kildare struggled to keep his surprise from showing on his face. "Let me speak to my team, but I''m sure that we''d find this acceptable. When would we be finding out more?"


    "My employer is a cautious man, as you can understand, Kildare. He''s worried about rivals getting to his prize before him.¡± Her lips curved into a wicked smile. "So we''d prefer to keep the details under wraps until he has a chance to speak to you himself."


    Kildare nodded, stood, picked up his kafe. "Where can I find you?"


    She tapped the table''s scarred surface.


    He nodded and headed back up the stairs. A light, buoyant feeling expanded in his chest, and Kildare realized that his hands were trembling. A thousand goldmmarks for each of them, combined with whatever else he could lift, would not only be enough to buy Serene''s contract¡ªhe could give them a nice little bit of starting money, for whatever they decided to do afterward.


    He rapped on the door to their room. As soon as Snitch opened it, Kildare blurted out, "I got another job offer."

 Chapter 7: Kildare

    "A thousand each?" Fir raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you didn''t mishear, and she meant a thousand total?"


    Kildare shook his head. He was still trembling, just slightly, as he reached forward to pick up his mug again. "I made sure to clarify. She means a thousand for each of us."


    Mock whistled. "What''s the catch?"


    "Yeah, there''s gotta be a catch somewhere," Snitch said. "That''s a hefty price."


    "She just said they figured it was fair, with asking us to spend nearly a week traveling and all. It''ll probably take us close to two weeks to get this done, maybe more if we have to set up anything special like we did for the Lord Datheil job. Plus, there''s the secrecy aspect of it. I figure they''d tossing a bit of extra in there so we''ll be more tempted to keep our mouths shut."


    Snitch frowned. "See, that''s one of the things I don''t like about this."


    Fir reached out and lightly punched Snitch''s arm. "Says the guy of many secrets."


    Snitch elbowed him. "Having secrets of my own makes we even more paranoid. Besides." He looked Kildare right in the eye. "Isn''t Serene from Do''or?"


    The elation turned sour in Kildare''s stomach. He swirled the remaining kafe in his mug for a moment before answering. "Ye-es. But what does that have to do with anything?"


    "Oh for..." Snitch raised his hands and rolled his eyes. "How did you survive on the streets for so long?"


    Mock narrowed her eyes. "You think that maybe Serene wants to take out her competition, and she hired this woman to lure us to Do''or?"


    "Why would she need to lure us anywhere?" Kildare asked. "She could just as easily slip in and knife us in our sleep, if she wants." He looked over at Fir. "Remember the second time she showed up? Did you ever hear her coming?"


    For sat back, a grimace crossing his face. Kildare resisted the urge to smirk. That had been the time Serene had triggered a trap right as he and Fir had been sneaking past it. She¡¯d pranced right past them as they were busy trying to disentangle themselves.


    Fir shook his head. "Hate to admit it, but she''s stealthier than any of us." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Maybe she doesn''t want to get her hands dirty. Or maybe, she wants to use us a distraction. Set us up to get captured or killed while she does something elsewhere."


    Kildare lowered his hands to his lap and bunched folds of his pants tightly into his clenched fingers. "Maybe she''s not involved at all," he blurted out.


    Mock, Fir, and Snitch all looked at him in various degrees of suspicion or skepticism. Kildare blew out a breath. How to phrase this...?


    "We haven''t see her for a while," he started slowly. "It''s been...what? Two jobs since we''ve seen any sign of her? Three? How many months is that?"


    Fir wiggled his fingers as he counted up in his head. "Five and a half months."


    "Maybe," Snitch said reluctantly.


    "So maybe she''s done with us." Kildare looked around.


    Mock wore a skeptical look¡ªone eyebrow arched, head tilted back slightly. Fir frowned.


    Snitch snorted in disbelief.


    Kildare sighed. "Look, how about this. Eras is waiting for me downstairs. I''ll go down, tell her it''s not a surety that we''ll take the job yet, but we''ll travel down to Do''or and look over the museum, see what we think. We can take a couple of days, sniff around to see if we can spot Serene. Any hint of her, any hint of something wrong, and we''ll walk away."


    Mock fidgeted with a hair bead spiraled around a lock of hair over her ear, her lips moving in what Kildare thought might be a prayer of seeking.


    Fir sat totally still, his fingers twined together in his lap. The expression on his face¡­ Kildare kept expecting Fir to say something, but the Alfaren only chewed on his lower lip.


    Snitch shrugged. "Well, at least we''d be out of the blighted cold you keep whining about."


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    "Kil, are you sure Serene¡ª" Mock started.


    "I''m sure!" he snapped.


    She jerked back, face scrunching in hurt.


    Kildare felt a pang of regret lance his chest. "I''m sorry." He reached across the table and grabbed Mock''s hand, squeezing it gently. "I''m sorry," he repeated. Should I tell them about Serene? Is this the time to do it, to come clean, to admit to them that she''s the love of my life and...


    Mock squeezed his hand back. "We''re worried about you. She was targeting you...we''ve all just wondered why she stopped. The letters she left, the time she snuck up on you and Fir..." She sighed. "We''re just worried, is all."


    "You''re just looking out for me." Kildare grinned. "And you have no idea how much I appreciate that, Mock."


    Snitch snorted. "All right then, can we cut the gushiness? Go tell the woman that we''ll accept the job on our conditions, already."


    Kildare elbowed him as he got up, snatching his empty kafe mug from the table. As he carried the mug back down to the common room, he had to work to school his face back into a polite, professional smile. It was hard, especially with the giddiness tumbling his insides and threatening to spill out into a grin and a light footedness.


    One more job. One. And then Serene would be free from her contract.


    He placed the mug on the bar and walked over to Eras. He didn''t bother sitting¡ªhe knew he couldn''t without squirming like a schoolboy. "My team''s interested," he said mildly. "We have our own conditions, though. We''ll come down to Rohondeish and check the place out for ourselves. If we get a whiff of anything wrong, we''re walking away. No tricks, no betrayals, we''ll just leave and you''ll never hear from us again. Your employer will be safe from us¡ªI don''t even want to know his name until I decide if we take the job or not. Deal?"


    Eras pursed her lips to the side. Then she unhooked a small pouch from her belt and tossed it on the table. It clinked with the sweet tone of gold. "We wouldn''t want you to feel taken advantage of. Consider this traveling expenses and a consulting fee¡ªeven if you decide not to take the job, we''d appreciate any feedback you and your team might be able to provide."


    Kildare picked up the pouch and weighed it in his hand. There had to be at least a hundred goldmarks in the pouch¡ªmore than enough for traveling expenses and a consulting fee. He flashed a grin at Eras. "Thank your employer for us¡ªthis is most generous. We shall be down in Rohondeish by the end of the week."


    Eras stood, bowed her head in a slight nod, and headed out the door. Kildare tucked the pouch into his own belt, pausing a moment to clamp his hand tight around the soft leather. "Thank the Aspects," he whispered.


    Their timetable had moved up by a year or more. Maybe now, when he finally did introduce Serene to his team, he could introduce her as a free woman.


    ***


    Kildare sat on his bed, using the small side table as a writing desk. He smoothed away the wrinkles in the ad he''d taken from the tavern''s front gates¡ªan apothecary looking for manipulator healers¡ªand retrieved the bottle of invisible ink from the hidden pocket he''d sewn into his rucksack. He could''ve sent Serene a wind message, but those were so imprecise, giving emotion more than details. Better to write a letter.


    He smiled. Funny how Snitch should mention the letters Serene used to leave them, often folded into an envelope and placed into the case of the item she''d stolen minutes before they''d gotten there, or slipped under their door at night. For the first six months, Kildare had only seen the surface of the letters...the written taunts. And then, one night when he''d thrown the latest letter into his fire in a fury, he''d seen the hidden message. The words written with ink only activated by heat. He could close his eyes and still see the flash of those words, red against the dark background of ink and parchment, blazing for a split second before the letter was consumed by the fire.


    Help me. Please.


    Kildare swallowed down the lump in his throat. Blinking, he set his pen to the paper and quickly scrawled words over the ad. For a brief second he could see them as a light stain against the darker ink.


    Love,


    We''re going to Do''or. There''s a job waiting for us in Rohondeish¡ªa big one. We may finally achieve our dreams.


    Then they faded. Shorter than he wanted. Shorter than he needed to convey the excitement bubbling inside of him. It would have to do until they could talk in person.


    Kildare let the ink dry, then crossed the room to his window, opened it, and shoved the advertisement into the slats of his shutters. It was unlikely that whoever cleaned their room would see it. Most people who happened to look up and spot the advertisement would think it just a piece of trash stuck in the shutter.


    Kildare closed his window and repacked the ink into the hidden pocket, then shoved his clothes in on top of it. He tucked what was left of the coins Eras had paid them under his clothes¡ªhe''d already distributed the rest to the others to hide among their clothes and luggage as needed¡ªand tossed the rucksack over one shoulder. One quick glance around his room, and Kildare opened the door, walking out into the living area.


    Fir looked up from rifling through a stack of books. "We''re still stopping on the way out of town, right? At the book seller''s?"


    "If you need to," Kildare said.


    Fir nodded and set three books aside. He swept up his copies of the blueprints of Lord Datheil''s keep and crumpled them, one by one, into the cracking fire. Kildare glanced through the other bedroom door, where Snitch was packing away his and Mock''s things.


    "Mock go down to find horses?" he asked.


    Fir nodded, weighing one book in his hand.


    Kildare''s lips twitched into a smile. On one hand, it looked like a typical move. Burning the evidence of their schemes. Moving on. Getting rid of the books Fir no longer needed for research. But this time, it was different.


    Next time, he might be able to put down roots.

 Chapter 9: Fir

    Halfway there.


    Fir stretched his arms above his head, relishing the feel of being able to move freely for the first time in hours. Kil was pushing hard¡ªand while the hired carriages were much more comfortable than the horses they usually used, it still didn¡¯t give him much room to move throughout the day. He rubbed the sore muscles of his neck.


    Sand ground against the cobblestones under his feet as he paced the small courtyard of the inn. Honestly, he was surprised that, despite the high walls surrounding the wedge-shaped oasis, it hadn¡¯t been buried in sand a long time ago.


    They may be traveling on the edge of a desert, but tonight, there was a fresh, cool breeze that had a hint of salt in it, even with the ocean being two days¡¯ travel. He breathed deeply, relishing the smell of sea air and rock still cooling from the day¡¯s sun and...


    Lavender and mint.


    Fir opened his eyes, the hairs on his neck prickling. He glanced around. The courtyard was empty; the shadows stretching long over the sand-dusted cobbles. He rolled his shoulders. Jumpy. Those two smells don¡¯t¡ª


    A hand clamped around his mouth, an arm around his neck. Fir flailed, slapping at the arm around his throat. His assailant dragged him backward and threw him against the courtyard wall beside the small smithy. Fir curled up, glancing at his assailant through the protective cage of his arms around his head.


    ¡°Marrick,¡± he said hoarsely. ¡°I can explain¡ª¡±


    The big man, every inch as tall as Fir and twice as wide, grabbed Fir¡¯s shirt collar and dragged him upright. ¡°Thought you could just run off?¡±


    Fir shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m on a job.¡± He kept his hands at his sides¡ªno need to let Marrick see them trembling¡ªand looked Marrick in the eye. Time to be Lord Thorne. Time to bluff. ¡°I gave you what I owed, remember? Right after I got paid, just like I said I would.¡±


    Marrick released Fir and stepped back. The wind shifted, bringing the smell of lavender and mint to Fir¡¯s nostrils again. Marrick reached into the pocket of his coat and brought out three playing cards, fanning them in one hand and holding them out so the moonlight revealed their faces. ¡°Funny how I found three extra cards on the floor under the table. Cards that didn¡¯t belong in any of my decks.¡±


    Blood drained from Fir¡¯s face, leaving him light-headed. He¡¯d dropped them. Of all the stupid, careless things to do.


    Marrick tucked the cards away into his pocket again. ¡°How much did you win back from me that second game, sapsucker? Fifty goldmarks, wasn¡¯t it? To leave you only with a debt of five.¡±


    ¡°I have that up in my room, if you¡¯d just let me¡ª¡±


    Marrick held up his hand. ¡°No, no. I don¡¯t think that fifty goldmarks quite covers it any more, Fir. You see, it¡¯s not about the money. It¡¯s about my reputation, and that fact that I had to come chasing after you for two days because you left without so much as a by your leave.¡±


    ¡°Marrick, come on¡ª¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s call it two hundred goldmarks. That should cover my traveling fees, plus what you owe, plus the interest that has accrued.¡±


    Fir sucked in a breath, lowered his hands to his sides. There wasn¡¯t much greenery around. Stupid desert. His eye fell on a few brownish, half-withered vines clinging to the wall a few feet away. They barely had any green left in them. ¡°Marrick, I don¡¯t have that¡ª¡±


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    Marrick flicked his wrist and stepped forward, a gold-hilted knife appearing in his hand.


    Fir opened his hands. His fingers brushed along something that felt slick, fragile, ready to fall apart at the slightest touch¡ªley. The invisible magic that thrummed through the air like an electric current.


    Marrick¡¯s knife darted forward.


    Fir twisted his wrists, and the vine burst along the wall, curling outward and wrapping around Marrick¡¯s wrist. He flicked one hand, directing the vine to the side. The knife grazed his ear as it sliced past, the point burying itself in the wall. Fir turned his eyes to see the blade quivering in the stone beside his cheek.


    Marrick snorted in Fir¡¯s face. ¡°You figured I¡¯d kill you rather than collect a debt? I was just going to leave you a reminder.¡±


    Fir¡¯s stomach roiled. If he could get out of this confrontation without throwing up all over Marrick, it would be a good night. He reached up and touched his ear. No blood. He must have felt the flat of the blade. ¡°I don¡¯t need another scar or a notch in my ear to remind me of what I owe to you,¡± he answered.


    Marrick ripped his arm free. ¡°So now we understand each other.¡±


    I understand you¡¯re a bully who thinks physical intimidation will get you what you want. ¡°Yes,¡± Fir answered. Because that was what Marrick wanted to hear. He wanted to think Fir was cowed. It would be the only way to get him out of here.


    ¡°And next time I have to come after you, Fir, I won¡¯t be coming for you. I¡¯ll be coming for your sister.¡± Marrick tapped his knife against Fir¡¯s cheek.


    Mock. Fir curled his hands into fists. She might not be his biological sister, but the threat was the same whether Marrick knew it or not. ¡°There will be no reason to come after me again. I¡¯ll pay you what I owe, don¡¯t worry.¡± And then I¡¯m never making this kind of stupid mistake again.


    He¡¯d thought he could handle himself. Figured maybe there was a way to stop his years-long loosing streak, once he¡¯d started learning all the tricks for the Thorne scam. I¡¯m a rotting idiot.


    Marrick nodded and turned away.


    Fir waited until the big man disappeared outside the gate before he straightened, using the wall for support. His limbs felt weak, and he still felt like throwing up. Fir flexed his fingers and stepped back into the courtyard. Marrick was nowhere in sight. Fir stopped and listened.


    Hoofbeats sounded on the road outside. Marrick hadn¡¯t even stayed the night. Fir rolled his eyes. Idiot. He came alone, and he obviously knows nothing about us, otherwise he¡¯d know Mock isn¡¯t my sister.


    And yet he still figured out my tricks. Because I was stupid. Fir shook his head. Never again. As much fun as it had been to try out his card tricks in a real game, he could never allow this kind of slip-up to happen again.


    He started for the door of the inn, but another sound caught his ears. Mock¡¯s voice, coming from the stables.


    Fir turned, but as he did so, the stable door opened. A square of yellow lantern light spilled across the courtyard as Mock swung out of the stable. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, tipping her head back.


    ¡°Mock?¡± Fir said.


    Mock startled, her hand going to the hidden dagger she kept in her shirt sleeve. She straightened. ¡°Fir?¡±


    ¡°You all right?¡± He crossed the courtyard in swift steps.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Now that he was closer, he could see the tear tracks down her cheeks, her reddened eyes. Fir started to reach out to put his hand on her shoulder.


    Mock slapped his hand to the side. ¡°Leave me alone.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure¡ª¡± he started.


    Mock spun toward him, lips pressed together in a tight line. She reached up, rubbed her thumb across his cheek. Fir felt a sting and flinched, raising his own hand to his cheek. He felt something warm and sticky, and his fingers were bloody when he pulled them away. His skin went cold. He hadn¡¯t even felt the cut. Hadn¡¯t noticed it was there until Mock touched it. Hadn¡¯t even noticed it when he¡¯d felt his ear earlier.


    Mock rubbed the blood on her fingers. ¡°Seems like we both have some secrets. I¡¯ll make you a deal¡ªyou don¡¯t talk about mine, I won¡¯t mention yours.¡±


    Fir bit the inside of his lip. ¡°Secrets kill teams, Mock,¡± he mumbled.


    ¡°Who taught you that? Kil? Haven¡¯t you noticed how absent-minded our own dear wyvern has been lately, Fir?¡± Mock¡¯s voice trembled, and she rotated the beaded bracelets on her wrist, fingering the good-luck charms hanging from them. ¡°He¡¯s hiding something. You¡¯re hiding something. I am, and I¡¯m pretty sure Snitch has been hiding things from us since day one.¡±


    Fir swallowed. ¡°Mock, listen, I know you¡¯re upset, but¡ª¡±


    Mock shook her head, chin quivering. ¡°I¡¯m done. I¡¯m done, and I can¡¯t have this conversation now.¡± She spun on her heel and marched across the courtyard.


    Fir watched her slam into the inn. He tipped his head back and dragged his fingers through his hair. Kil. How are you this oblivious?


    Maybe after this job it would get better. Fir rubbed his cheek again. We just need to hold it together for a few more days.

 Chapter 10: Kildare

    It was the perfect set-up. Large, stained glass windows. Huge skylights, letting in the wash of bright sunlight that conveniently made all the artifacts and valuables on display glow with a dazzling fire. Kildare, standing with one tour group that was oohing and ahhing over a hero¡¯s shield¡ªthat was set with far too many precious stones to be a shield actually used in battle¡ªrisked a glance over his shoulder.


    Yeah, this place was practically begging for someone to come rob it.


    Quickly, Kil glanced around for the rest of his team. Snitch was trailing him closely. Fir¡¯s willowy Alfaren builds made him stand out head and shoulders above the others in the group just behind of their own. Mock had gone through earlier¡ªhe guessed she must be done by now.


    He spotted a few olive-skinned Leremites, but most of the people here were the pale Ermens and dark-skinned Do¡¯orites. And everywhere, the opaque silks and draping linens and bright colors of Do¡¯or fashion.


    Kil picked at the front of his sleeveless tunic, pulling it away from his skin with a grimace. His shirt may be linen, and the hand-cranked woven reed fans sent soft wafts of air down on him, but the hall was so closely packed and it was such a hot day that it just felt like someone breathing down his neck. Kildare shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling and refocused his attention on the tour guide, who was waving his group onward.


    A flash of dark red caught his eye, and Kildare whipped his head around, searching. A man in a brilliant red tunic stood not far behind him, waving his arms as he talked to a woman with her hair upswept into the twist of a Do¡¯or matron. He released his held breath and slumped his head back.


    Snitch poked him in the ribs. ¡°Relax. You¡¯re making the guards nervous.¡±


    Kildare looked up. Guards were stationed along the wall, each a few paces behind the glass cases and the red velvet ropes that kept the visitors from breathing too closely on the priceless treasures. Sure enough, one guard had stepped forward, hand grasping the hilt of his sword, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Kildare.


    Kildare smiled at the guard, who stepped back into his place, though his hand didn¡¯t leave his sword hilt.


    ¡°What did you see, anyway?¡± Snitch whispered.


    ¡°Not now.¡±


    The tall pickpocket shrugged and turned his attention back to the tour guide. Kildare looked up, squinting as the sun glinted down through a massive glass globe that topped the hall over the front doors. Most folks, he reckoned, would go straight to that when they tried to break in. They had to have counted on that when they built the place, knowing that it would eventually host some of the greatest treasures to be found in all of the world. And not once had thieves successfully broken into the place, not since it had opened twenty years earlier.


    Oh, they¡¯d tried. Plenty of individuals and teams had been caught trying to break in. They¡¯d all been caught, according to the local gossip Mock had picked up last night at a bar known to be the favorite drinking spot of city guards.


    Kildare snorted. His team was better than that. No one had even seen their faces until the last heist.


    Their tour ended, and Snitch and Kildare walked through the entryway--divided from the hall proper by a low, waist-height wall painted a shiny red. Kildare paused in the middle of the large purple, gold, and orange mosaic that covered the entry floor and looked up. Straight above him was the enormous glass skylight dome. Something glinted in the bright sunlight. Kildare squinted, but was confused by what he saw. It almost looked like a thin netting of golden wires covered the underside of the glass.


    But...why? Decoration?


    Kildare shrugged and followed Snitch. He¡¯d ask Mock and Fir.


    When he stepped outside, the heat hit him like a furnace. Kildare frowned and picked at his tunic again. Shifter though he might be, he doubted even his wyvern form would find the port town¡¯s humid, sticky heat likable.


    He stared across the town. The museum had been built on the outer edge of the city, and from here, the streets fell down gentle slopes until they ended in docks jutting out into the glittering, tranquil bay. Sand-colored turrets and mosaicked domes glimmered in the sun, and pennants and flags flapped from nearly every rooftop, turning the slope of the city into an undulating mass of color.


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    People whisked back on forth on foot, horseback, and in carts and carriages along the busy road, making it a bit of a dance to get across to the row of cafes that lined the other side of the street. Kildare spotted Mockingbird sitting outside the kafe house. No surprise there¡ªMock loved the stuff. She lounged in a cushioned chair, her sandaled feet propped on the edge of a metal table as she sipped a steaming cup of the black liquid.


    Snitch dropped into the seat across the table from her, using his broad-brimmed hat to fan himself. He glanced at Kil. ¡°Well, you finally got a warmer location for a heist. You happy now?¡±


    Kil chuckled, not having the heart to tell him that this was a little too warm even for him. He sat down, wiping sweat off the back of his neck.


    Mock rolled her eyes and put her cup down. ¡°So, what did we learn, gentlemen?¡±


    Kildare held up his hand, enforcing the usual rule. No talking about the reconnaissance until they were all there. He hated going over things twice¡ªnot to mention, dropping the rule had led them to forget a few things before. That couldn¡¯t happen with this job. It had to be perfect.


    He sent Snitch inside to order for them, and the man came back out with two iced kafe drinks, one black, one tanned with the addition of honey and cream. He handed Kildare the sweet one and sat down beside Mock, throwing his arm over the back of her chair. Mock looked at him in annoyance and shoved his arm away. Kildare rolled his eyes as he sipped his drink. It¡¯s gotten worse this trip. I¡¯ll have to talk to them. He shoved the thought away. Later. right now, he needed to focus on this job.


    Not that he was any better, of course. Kildare rubbed his thumb over the side of his index finger, then quickly stopped himself before he rubbed the makeup away. He carefully dabbed at the back of his neck, hoping his makeup wasn¡¯t smearing under the heat.


    After about a half hour, Fir emerged from the hall, blinking in the bright sunlight. He crossed the street and loomed over Kildare. ¡°What, you didn¡¯t get anything for me?¡±


    Snitch hooked his thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Get it yourself, tree lump.¡±


    Fir whacked him on the head as he passed, and soon came back out of the shop carrying a black iced kafe and a triangular fold of waxed paper, which he opened to reveal a crisp turnover. He smirked at Snitch¡¯s annoyed face and bit into the pastry, scattering bits of flaky crust all over the table.


    Snitch sniffed at the smell of apples and spices.


    ¡°Oh, go and get three more,¡± Kildare said. Snitch wouldn¡¯t be able to focus as long as there was food at hand.


    Once the scrawny thief had brought back more turnovers, Kildare turned to Fir and asked, ¡°So what did you see?¡±


    ¡°Locks on the windows,¡± he said. ¡°And scrolling metal curtains on the inside.¡±


    ¡°Each display case has its own unique padlock,¡± Mock said.


    ¡°How could you tell?¡± Snitch challenged.


    She sniffed. ¡°Because each one was similar in design, so the same smithy made them, and there was a tiny little number by each latch. Probably a corresponding key. If they were all the same they¡¯d be no need for corresponding keys. And each case is rigged to something¡ªthere were wires along the glass leadings on the corners of the cases.¡±


    ¡°Probably some kind of newfangled alarm system,¡± Snitch muttered.


    ¡°Did anyone notice the wiring on the inside of the skylight?¡± Kildare asked.


    The other two looked blank, but Mock nodded. ¡°Now that is definitely some kind of alarm system. Probably tied to a vinegar battery.¡±


    Fir made a face. He¡¯d gotten a zap from one of those during their second-to-last job and, judging by the words he¡¯d used to call into question the maker¡¯s ancestry, it had been a less than pleasant experience.


    ¡°Given the security, there¡¯s bound to be night guards as well,¡± Snitch added. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t go past them to put guards on the roof.¡±


    Kildare picked at the front of his tunic again and finished his drink, only half-listening as the others batted ideas back and forth about how to get in, how to disable another vinegar battery, how to sneak past guards, how much time it would take to disable unique locks for every case they wanted to lift. He looked over his shoulder, even though he knew their three-story inn wouldn¡¯t be visible over the other towering buildings.


    He shrugged his shoulders, forcing himself to be patient. If Serene was in town yet, she¡¯d let him know. And until then? He¡¯d just have to wait. He sighed. It was going to be a long evening. And they still had the meeting with their employer to go.


    ¡°So, what do you guys say?¡± he asked abruptly, interrupting their bickering. ¡°Do we take the job or not?¡±


    The others quieted down. Snitch picked at his dessert. Fir tapped nervously on the arms of his chair.


    ¡°I think so,¡± Mock said suddenly.


    Kil raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re not worried?¡± He nodded to the stone pendant she was rubbing.


    Mock shook her head, her eyes sparking with decision. ¡°We could go to ground afterward if we need to,¡± she said in a low voice. ¡°Let this whole thing blow over. Blight, with this kind of coin, we could probably even retire if we wanted to. I think we should take this job.¡±


    Kil glanced at the other two.


    Snitch shrugged. ¡°Eh, why not.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Fir said. ¡°One more job, and then we can lay low for a while.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a bad idea. Especially since Serene would be free by then. They¡¯d have time to adjust to actually living together, apart from the team. And he could take his time introducing her to everyone. Kildare toasted with his kafe, finished it with one big swig, and set the cup back on the table. He stood. ¡°One more job. Scatter for the afternoon¡ªI don¡¯t care what you do. Eras will meet us at the Broken Chair tonight.¡±

 Chapter 11: Kildare

    The atmosphere at the Broken Chair was about what he¡¯d expected after such a hot, sticky day. Tempers were short¡ªjust on his way to his reserved table, Kildare saw one fight break out and two more that looked like they¡¯d explode at any second. Granted, this was not what anyone would call the best side of town, but still¡­ He had to wonder what kind of mood their mystery employer would be in tonight.


    Kildare slid into the booth at the back of the tavern and glanced up toward the door just as Mock and Snitch entered, both looking frazzled. Mock''s red tunic hung slightly askew on her thin frame, and she had a pinched look to her face. Had they been making out somewhere, or had they been fighting again? His question was answered as Mock deliberately elbowed Snitch''s side, saying something with a glare in her eyes and a tightness to her lips.


    Snitch pushed her elbow out of his ribs and pointed toward the back of the room. He caught Kildare''s eyes and nodded, then motioned Mock forward. Mock stayed close on his heels the entire way, shoulders hunched in on herself, darting cautious looks around the rowdy crowd.


    Kildare sighed. He didn''t blame her. He''d rescued Mock from a place almost exactly like this¡ªexcept there, she''d been in forced servitude. He snorted under his breath. Such fancy words for slavery. Serene was rubbing off on him.


    A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. Don''t think about Serene. Not right now. One slip, that''s all it''d take... He glanced over at the bar, caught the eye of the keeper, and raised two fingers from the table, indicating he was ready to order.


    The bearded man nodded and turned to one of the girls beside him, nodding his head at Kildare. The girl nodded and slipped from behind the bar. She, Mock, and Snitch reached the table at about the same time.


    "Voletia," Snitch said before the barmaid could even open her mouth to ask. He slipped into the seat opposite Kildare, tugging the laced neck of his shirt open.


    Mock shook her head at the barmaid''s raised eyebrow.


    Kildare ordered ale and turned to Snitch. "Don''t get drunk on me."


    The man snickered nervously and swept his hair out of his face. "You kidding? We''re meeting with an unknown employer and you want me sober?"


    "No, I just don''t want you stupid." Kildare scanned the room again. Where the rot was Fir?


    Across the table, Snitch babbled on about something in a low tone. Mock leaned against the back of the booth, arms crossed, slightly turned away from Snitch, her dark eyes scanning the room.


    Kildare''s throat tightened. They both looked miserable. Maybe taking a break would be good for them. He rubbed his thumb and finger together. He could take Serene back to visit the wyvern colony in Teshinn, where he''d proposed. They''d lived in an area called the Pillars of the Sea, where tall, cliff-faced islands jutted from the ocean''s coastline. The only way from island to island had been rope bridges or flying. It was quiet, peaceful, the breeze gentle and the air filled with the sound of rushing waves far below.


    He shook off the thought. Not yet. He couldn''t let himself get distracted now.


    A hand slapped down on the table next to his elbow. Kildare jumped, nearly pitched off his seat, and looked up.


    A Knocken stood beside their table, his beady eyes almost lost in the folds of the gnarled, gray-brown skin of his face. "You Kildare Wingard?" he asked, his voice like grinding stones. The Knocken''s folded his long arms over his barrel chest.


    Kildare nodded, not trusting his voice just yet.


    "I''m Taoh. Here to escort you to your meeting."


    "I thought Eras was supposed to meet us," Kildare said.


    Taoh''s eyes flicked around the table, and returned to Kildare. "I was told you had four."


    "We''re waiting on one of our members," Snitch growled. "Obviously."


    Kildare shot him a glare.


    Taoh grunted. He clomped over to the bar and pounded a fist on it. Kildare couldn''t hear his conversation over the noise of the tavern, but the barkeeper quickly grabbed a mug from underneath the bar, nodding at every other word out of Taoh''s mouth.


    He glanced around the room and spotted Fir slipping through the crowd to their table, his satchel clutched close to himself.


    The Alfaren slid into place beside him. "Who''s that?" He nodded to the Knocken.


    "Taoh. Supposedly works for the guy who hired us." Kildare looked up into his friend''s face. "Where have you been?"


    Fir gnawed on his lower lip. "Thought you didn''t care what we did."


    "Fir¡ª"


    "Fine. I found a dice game to join. And before you ask, no, I quit once I lost what I''d brought to the game, and I didn''t cheat." Fir looked away. "Where''s Eras?"


    Kildare breathed, trying not to let Fir''s confession add more tension to his already strung out nerves. "No idea."


    Taoh came back from the bar, two mugs and a glass in his hands. He slammed the drinks on the table and glared at Kildare. "So. You''ve got your drinks. And it looks like your fourth teammate has finally showed his face. Anything else you need, drake, or can I do my job now?"


    Kildare felt warmth rush over his face at the insult. He stood. Even with a shifter''s shorter height, he still stood a good head taller than the Knocken. Unfortunately, it didn''t seem like Taoh was intimidated at all. He just glared up at Kildare, long arms crossed over his chest. Kildare flxed his hand, took a moment to let his temper cool. He didn''t need to antagonize the only person who knew where they were supposed to meet their employer.


    Kildare picked up his drink and nodded to Taoh. "Lead the way."


    Without another word, Taoh turned and headed toward a closed door at the side of the tavern.


    Fir stood up, gnawing on a thumbnail. "Creepy Knocken," he muttered under his breath. "Why''d he have to be the one to escort us?"


    "Maybe because everyone else thinks he''s creepy too, and he likes that it throws people off balance," Snitch muttered.


    Fir wrinkled his nose.


    As Kildare and his team followed, a slight hush rolled over the tavern. The noise didn''t entirely die down, but it was enough that Kildare knew they were being watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several of the people closest to them turning to look over their shoulder, watching the four strangers'' progress toward the door. None of them had a friendly look to their glares. Kildare looked over his shoulder and offered a reassuring smile to his team. Snitch was the only one who smiled back. Mock and Fir looked like they''d rather be in a prison cell than going to meet with their employer.


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    Taoh opened the door and motioned them inside. Kildare squared his shoulders and stepped into the room. It wasn''t much larger than a servant''s bedroom. Across from them stood another door, and two Knocken sat on either side of it, loaded crossbow bolts across their laps. At a sign from Taoh, one of the Knocken got up and opened the door, motioning the group into the dark room.


    As Kildare crossed the threshold, his feet sank into thick, rich carpet. He took several paces into the room, enough that he was sure his team could get into the room behind him. Just as he was considering another step, he heard a voice in front of him.


    "That''s far enough."


    Kildare froze.


    The door creaked shut behind them, enshrouding the room completely in darkness. It lasted only a few seconds before the lanterns along the walls flared to life, giving the room a warm yellow glow. It made the red carpet even more garish.


    A long wooden table dominated the space, and at the far side of the table sat a wizened old Alfaren with graying skin and lank, coarse gray hair. He had a half-eaten plate of food in front of him. To his right sat Eras, back ramrod straight, hands folded on the table before her. It was the first time Kildare had gotten a good look at her face. She had very slight wrinkles around her lips and eyes, showing that she was perhaps twenty years or so older than him.


    The Alfaren leaned one arm against the table and beckoned them forward with gnarled, stubby fingers. "Come. Sit," he ordered in the croaking voice they''d heard before.


    Kildare curled his hand tighter around his cup of ale as he pulled a chair out from the table and sat, directly across from the Alfaren. He tried not to stare at the needle marks that tracked up and down both of the Alfaren''s arms, instead choosing to focus on the dark eyes that glimmered above a hawk nose.


    The Alfaren smiled as the rest of his team took their seats. He looked back at Kildare and drummed his fingers on the table. He was missing his pinky completely, and the next two fingers from the first knuckle down, so the drumming was an uneven rhythm that set Kildare''s teeth on edge.


    Kildare glanced from the corners of his eyes at the rest of his team. Fir sat on his left, his hands white-knuckled on the arms of his chair. Snitch slouched, chair pushed far enough from the table that he could cross one leg over the other, ankle resting on his knee. Mock sat like a coiled spring, hands clasped on the table, eyes never leaving Eras.


    "Welcome to Rohondeish," the Alfaren said. "My name is Basalt. I trust you''ve been enjoying the sights in our city?"


    Kildare''s muscles locked, and he glanced down at the table. Ice spread through his core, as if his fire had been snuffed out. Basalt.


    Serene''s overlord.


    Pox.


    The silence stretched out, and Kildare resisted the urge to fidget or look up. He couldn''t. The man who had enslaved Serene was sitting right across from him, and Kildare wasn''t sure he could contain his fear. Did he know? He couldn''t know. Serene had never told him why, but she''d begged him to be discreet. Said Basalt could never know of their relationship.


    Fir shifted in his seat, his elbow bumping into Kildare''s. "Thank you, sir. We have."


    Kildare raised his eyes.. Basalt glanced to Fir, then brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Basalt swept his hand down and outward, turning his palm up¡ªa common Alfaren gesture of recognition. He was accepting Fir as an equal. He turned to Mock and Snitch in turn and made the same gesture.


    As he made eye contact with Kildare, one corner of Basalt''s mouth turned upward into a tiny smirk. Kildare clenched his hands around his mug. Why was the old Alfaren looking at him that way?


    Basalt put his fingers on the bridge of his nose, then moved his hand down and outward, repeating the exact gesture he''d used for everyone else.


    Kildare let out a breath.


    Basalt picked up his fork and skewered a bite of food. He glanced up at Kildare. "So, I take it you''ve had a chance to tour the magnificent museum. What did you make of it?"


    "We looked it over. It''s doable, Basalt, but..." Kildare forced a little chuckle. "You didn''t exactly pick an easy target for us."


    "If it had been easy, I would''ve had some of my own men do it," Basalt growled. "I sent for you because you''re supposed to be some of the best. If you''re getting cold feet I can always hire someone else...perhaps you could put Serene on the job, eh?" He laughed, a dry rasping that sounded more like a coughing fit, and elbowed Eras.


    Kildare tried not to twitch. The Alfaren''s tone was the same as if he''d been referring to a tool, not a person.


    Eras''s lips twitched into a barely-there smile, and her gaze shifted to Kildare. "Unfortunately, sir, I''m afraid that my recommendation stands. This is a job for a team, not a single person. And you know Serene doesn''t play well with others."


    Basalt cackled again.


    She doesn''t know, she doesn''t know. She can''t know. Kildare met Eras''s eyes, even though her flat gaze made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He waited until Basalt''s laughter died down. "We can do it. Absolutely. My only conditions are that we''re paid half up front, plus I would appreciate the opportunity to fence any additional items we acquire through your men."


    Basalt tilted his head to the side. "Less commission fees, I assume."


    Kildare nodded.


    Basalt slapped his hands on the table. "Perfect. And so, the item I wish you to acquire." He reached into the breast pocket of his outer vest and produced a folded piece of paper, sliding it over to Kildare.


    Kildare unfolded it and flattened it on the table. The picture was a pencil sketch of a box with carved swirls and vines crawling over every surface.


    Fir gasped and tugged on the paper, pulling it closer to himself. "Is that..." He glanced up at Basalt, his fear of the older Alfaren temporarily forgotten. "Is that a real Alfaren-made puzzle box?"


    Kildare raised his eyebrows. A genuine puzzle box, made by an Alfaren woodcrafter using ley, was usually worth a fortune. Hand-carved knocken-made ones sold for less, but weren''t nearly as intricate.


    Basalt snorted. "I wouldn''t settle for less. It''s a genuine one made by Beech Willon."


    Fir''s eyes went wide. He started to speak, then seemed to remember where he was and who he was talking to. A faint redness spread over his face and he looked down at the table.


    "It''s all right," Basalt told him. "I''m glad to find another who shares my admiration for these wonderful little devices." He looked at Kildare. "So it''s a deal? I pay you four thousand goldmarks, you steal my puzzle box and all the loot you can carry?"


    Kildare reached across the table, holding out his hand. Basalt gripped it, his fingers tight despite his infirmity.


    "Taoh, fetch these people their money."


    The Knocken disappeared through a side door, then came back a moment later carrying a sack of coins. He set it on the table. Kildare scooted it over to Mock, listening to the jingle of the coins as she quickly counted through them.


    When Mock was finished, they stood. Kildare gave a deep, respectful nod to Basaltand allowed Taoh to get in front of him and escort them out of the private room and back into the tavern again.


    The crew wasted no time in draining their drinks and abandoning the Broken Chair for a more friendly atmosphere.


    As soon as they were outside, Fir blew out a deep breath and turned to Kildare, eyes alight with interest. "He wants us to steal a puzzle box! Kil, do you know how much those are worth?"


    "Ssshh, you daft idiot!" Snitch swiped at Fir''s arm, just missing it. "Not so''s the whole street can hear!"


    "Am I the only one who is concerned about this?" Mock asked in a low voice.


    Kildare glanced over at her. "Why, Mock?"


    She hugged herself. "I don''t know. It...it just makes me nervous. Did you see those needle marks in his arms? He''s been injected with fosseric. Alfaren do that to people they think are sappers."


    The word sent a chill down Kildare''s back, and Fir and Snitch stopped their play battle and turned, faces serious.


    "And those missing fingers," Mock continued. "He''s had to have been on fosseric for years, if he''s that brittle."


    "So he''s been injected with fosseric for most of his life, and might be a crazy ley-stealing killer without it," Snitch said. "We''re doing a job for the man, not cozying up to him at night. What''s this got to do with it?"


    Mock''s eyes flashed. "It matters because he''s got to hate Alfaren for what they did to him," she snapped. "I would. If any Alfaren shot me up with fosseric, I''d hate them and want nothing to do with Alfaren culture. But he wants us to steal a puzzle box. Why?"


    Snitch shrugged. "He''s paying us, and really, that''s all I care about."


    Part of Kildare agreed with Snitch, but the other part of him was curious to find the answer to Mock''s question. "Maybe we can figure it out before we hand it over to him," he said.


    "I like this idea," Fir said.


    Mock frowned. "Just so long as it isn''t anything dangerous. We wouldn''t give anything dangerous to a crimelord, would we, Kildare?"


    "No," he said firmly. "Don''t you worry about that, Mock. There''s no way we''d do that." No way I''d hand anything dangerous over to the man keeping Serene captive.

 Chapter 12: Serene

    Rohondeish.


    She couldn¡¯t believe he¡¯d gone to Rohondeish.


    Serene hunkered in a corner near the bar, hood over her face. She could feel the itch of curious eyes crawling over her skin like spider legs. She was known here, in this bar. It was only a matter of time before someone caught enough of a glimpse of her face to recognize her.


    The door to Basalt¡¯s audience room opened, and his lieutenant stepped out, leading Kildare and the team back out into the common room. Serene straightened, watching them, like she had for so many nights before. Kildare¡¯s back was straight, his shoulders square. A confident team leader.


    He had no idea what he¡¯d gotten them into.


    The four quickly drained their drinks and tossed the empty cups back on the bar, then left the tavern. Serene waited for a few beats, then got up, leaving her half-empty mug of beer on the table, and walked over to the bar. The barkeeper turned to her, and Serene tilted her head up so he could see her face under the hood.


    The barkeeper¡¯s face grew wary. ¡°Yes, milady thief?¡±


    ¡°I want your best room for the night, Tul.¡±


    Tul¡¯s dark eyes flicked down to the bar. ¡°Sorry, milady, but Basalt just ordered it be given to some special guests he¡¯s keeping for a few days.¡±


    Serene arched her eyebrows. So Basalt had given them the nicest suite. Probably trying to throw off their guard by treating them as well as he could manage.


    Tul tapped the bar. ¡°We have the suite across the hall available though, milady.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± Serene said. ¡°But, Tul...would you please keep it quiet that I¡¯ve arrived?¡±


    Tul gave her a strange look.


    She shot him a smile, fluttered her lashes just a bit. ¡°I¡¯m just tired,¡± she said in a soothing tone. ¡°This last job was difficult. One night of rest before Basalt sends me off again, you know?¡±


    Tul smiled and nodded. ¡°He does work you hard, milady, that¡¯s true.¡± He slid the key across the bar.


    Serene picked it up, slipped it into the pouch at her side, then leaned across the bar to give Tul a quick peck on the cheek. ¡°Thank you. You¡¯re always so understanding.¡±


    The man grinned as she turned away. Serene¡¯s lips prickled, and as she pushed the door open, she quickly drew her hand across them. The team stood on the street corner, looking for all the world as if they were just discussing what tavern to visit next. Snitch and Fir playfully shoved and punched back and forth, as if in a drunken mock-fight.


    Serene pulled her hood over her hair and crouched, slinking through the shadows. As she neared them, she caught Mock¡¯s voice.


    ¡°But he wants us to steal a puzzle box. Why?¡±


    Snitch stopped punching at Fir and turned back to his companions, shrugging. ¡°He¡¯s paying us, and really, that¡¯s all I care about.¡±


    Serene frowned.


    ¡°Maybe we can figure it out before we hand it over to him,¡± Kildare said, putting his hand on Mock¡¯s arm.


    ¡°I like this idea,¡± Fir said.


    Mock frowned. ¡°Just so long as it isn¡¯t anything dangerous. We wouldn¡¯t give anything dangerous to a crimelord, would we, Kildare?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about that, Mock. There¡¯s no way we¡¯d do that.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Snitch slapped his hands on their backs. ¡°Now let¡¯s go. I plan to enjoy myself! I¡¯ve never been to a coastal town before!¡± He slung his arm around Fir. ¡°Now, which way are the docks? Time to find some pretty girls, my friend!¡±


    Mock shot him a glare. ¡°And what am I, dragon meat?¡± Then she glanced up at Kildare and winced. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°No worries.¡± Kildare started to go after Snitch and Fir, but Mock reached out, holding him back.


    Serene¡¯s eyes darted over the Alfaren woman¡¯s posture¡ªher hunched shoulders, the worry making lines in her face, the way her eyebrows drew together in a frown. She knows something.


    Kil had to tip his head up slightly to look Mock in the eye. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just a bit worried.¡± Mock reached down and unwound a thin leather band from her wrist, then pressed it into Kil¡¯s hands. She smirked. ¡°Good luck charms never hurt, right?¡±


    Kildare examined the trinket, then smiled and put his arm around Mock¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I appreciate it.¡±


    Serene stayed back about half a block as the group made their way down near the docks. If it hadn¡¯t been for the knot in her stomach, this would be just like the other times she¡¯s secretly spied on them in the last few years. Serene half-smiled, recalling the times she¡¯d clung to the outside of a building, watching through a glowing window as they talked, played games, and planned their jobs. She¡¯d always loved the camaraderie and sibling-like relationship Kildare had held with each of the team. The way he listened to their concerns, took them seriously. His gentle nature had been the deciding factor in contacting him.


    Kildare was different. He shouldn¡¯t be a criminal. He didn¡¯t have the heart for it. Serene had seen him handing out goldmarks to street kids at almost every town he visited. Buying medicine for customers in herbalist¡¯s shops when they couldn¡¯t afford it themselves. Treating an orphanage to pastries and cookies at a bakery. Kil was too good for this, and it was the one subject she dared not ask him--why he did what he did.


    The crew eventually found themselves in the Dock Square, a huge, rowdy, twenty-four-hour market a mere block from the docks. Even at the late hour, there was a fair-sized crowd in the square. Merchants and shoppers alike chattered in multiple languages, and the air was rich and heavy with spices, sweets, frying food, perfumes. Bright bolts of cloth fluttered and flapped from a few of the stalls, and shelled nuts rattled in baskets. Gas lanterns poked up from the ground at random intervals, creating golden pools of light that lent the place an air of mystery.


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    There, they split. Snitch slunk away between tents to a gaudy, silk-draped building at the side of one street. Mock watched him go, fists clenched tight, then stomped off in the opposite direction. Fir stopped at a bookseller¡¯s stall, his long fingers running over the leather spines in gentle approval.


    She trailed Kildare through the curved and winding paths in the square. Let him wander a bit, buy a fried pastry. Then she moved forward quickly, staying behind clumps of shoppers until she was close. She slipped between two men and bumped hard into the small of Kildare¡¯s back. At the same time, she turned her head with a slight flick, making it seem as if her hood had slipped off with the impact.


    She took a sharp turn between two stalls and ducked into small, dark street between two buildings, pressing herself up against the wall and behind a refuse barrel.


    Sure enough, after a moment, Kildare came into the alley. He stood at the entrance for a moment, then stepped past her into the alley.


    Serene grabbed his arm.


    Kildare spun around, eyes going wide. ¡°Ser¡ª¡±


    Serene clamped her hand over his mouth and pushed him backward into the alley. Kildare staggered a bit, but she didn¡¯t stop until they were about halfway down the street, safely in the shadows.


    Kildare wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her lips. Serene leaned against him, gripping his shirt.


    ¡°You utter idiot,¡± she whispered once he came up for air.


    Kildare flinched and leaned back from her a moment, hurt and confusion crossing his face. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Rodondeish? You know I¡¯m from Rohondeish! And you accepted a job from Basalt?¡± Serene squirmed free of his arms and whacked him gently on the chest. ¡°What were you thinking?¡±


    ¡°I tried sending you a wind message. And I left a letter.¡±


    ¡°I never got the messages, Kil.¡± Serene softened her tone a little. ¡°They must have been pushed away by the storm winds.¡±


    He grimaced. ¡°I wondered about that. And the note?¡±


    ¡°It got wet. I was able to recover enough to know that you were coming here. But that still doesn¡¯t explain taking a job for Basalt.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was for Basalt at first. A Do¡¯orite woman, she contacted me first, and¡ª¡±


    Serene¡¯s throat tightened, and she covered her lower face with her hands. ¡°Eras?¡±


    ¡°You know her?¡±


    ¡°When did she contact you?¡±


    Kildare frowned. ¡°Back in Helryen. Serene, what¡¯s wrong? Why¡ª¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t do this.¡± Serene dug her hands into her hair, then turned back and forth, looking up and down the dark alley. Her heart hammered. She probably knows we¡¯re here. She probably followed us while I was too busy mooning over how wonderful my husband is. ¡°Kil, they know about us.¡±


    ¡°No¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m almost positive. Eras talked to me that same day, Kil. She told me she¡¯d heard us, in my room that night.¡±


    Disgust crossed Kildare¡¯s face. ¡°She was spying on us?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m valuable to them, Kil. Of course she was! Basalt sent her after me to find out why I didn¡¯t come home after a couple of days.¡± Serene grabbed his wrist, tugged him back toward the market. ¡°We have to get the crew. We have to tell them now, and get them out of here before¡ª¡±


    Kildare¡¯s arms wrapped around her, and he pressed her tight against his chest. Serene dropped her head back against his shoulder and blew out a deep breath. Even with her racing heart, the firm pressure of Kildare¡¯s arms against her body made her want to sink against him. The thrumming panic faded, and she breathed easier.


    ¡°They don¡¯t know,¡± Kildare said gently. ¡°We¡¯ve been careful. No one has followed us. No one knows about us, Serene. Besides, what does it matter?¡±


    Anger surged through her. She twisted around and glared at him. ¡°What if I¡¯d become pregnant, Kil? I know we were careful. But what if?¡±


    He stared blankly at her.


    Serene ground her teeth. ¡°He¡¯s my contract holder. For all rights and purposes, Basalt owns me.¡± She shuddered. ¡°If I¡¯d become pregnant, Kil, the child would belong to him.¡±


    Kildare¡¯s face paled a little. Then he swallowed and raised his chin. ¡°All the more reason for this job. Then we can pay the bastard back with his own coin. And to be honest, I can¡¯t wait to drop the money right back on his table and tell him I want your contract.¡±


    Serene rubbed her hands over her face. ¡°Kil, you may think you can screw Basalt over like that, but I¡¯m telling you, he¡¯s shrewd. This is too much of a risk. Why is he even hiring you? He has me at his beck and call.¡±


    ¡°The job is too big for one person. It¡¯s at the museum in town¡ªthere¡¯s an item he wants.¡±


    Serene frowned. Wanting a specific item didn¡¯t sound like Basalt. He was only interested in money to fund his growing empire of slave traders and smugglers. Or stealing from rivals to warn them off. She¡¯d always been given free rein on what she picked to steal¡ªnot once had he ever requested a specific item.


    Kildare drew her in close to his chest. Serene curled against him, forcing herself to breathe deeply. As she calmed, she realized that Kildare¡¯s own heart was pounding, and he trembled a little as he held her. She put her hand on his chest, looked up at him.


    Kildare¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°I love you,¡± he whispered. ¡°I love you and I want to see you free from this life.¡±


    ¡°Is it worth risking everything, though?¡± she whispered.


    He eased back a little from her and looked down, confused. ¡°Why do you feel like that?¡±


    Serene hesitated. How could she explain the darkness and acid swirling inside her gut, eating at her every time she thought about Basalt, or Eras, or Taoh? How even now, the back of her neck itched like someone was watching her? How the weight of those three pushed on her shoulders until she felt like she might collapse under the pressure?


    Basalt¡¯s thinking about upping the price.


    If any of them found out that Kildare was her husband, they would kill him. Or worse, put a slave collar on him.


    And she knew that if he thought it would save her, he¡¯d do it. He¡¯d bow his head and submit to a collar, as long as they were together.


    She couldn¡¯t let that happen.


    But how could she explain any of this to Kil?


    ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m just scared,¡± she choked out. ¡°What if Basalt finds out?¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t,¡± Kildare said, his voice quiet and strong and even.


    ¡°But you don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Kildare shook his head. ¡°We¡¯ll get this job done, and we¡¯ll leave as soon as we¡¯re paid. It may take a while to fence some of the other items, but I will see this done, Serene. I swear it, by my heart, by my fire, I will see you free.¡±


    She was going to be his ruin.


    Serene slid her hand down to his wrist, rubbed her thumb over the leather looped around it. A feather charm dangled from the simple bracelet, the bronze glimmering with the light of the moon filtering through the curtains.


    ¡°Mock said it was a wyvern good luck charm,¡± Kildare said. He chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s pulling that out of the air or what, but I appreciate the sentiment.¡±


    Serene smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad they¡¯re taking care of you for me.¡±


    He loosened his hug. ¡°I should probably be getting back to the market. Finding everyone. We need to plan the heist.¡±


    She gripped his wrists tight. ¡°Please. Please, can¡¯t you just give it up? Run away with me, now. Forget all of this. We¡¯ll go hide in the shifter colony where you proposed.¡±


    Even as she said it, she knew he wouldn¡¯t. Kildare wouldn¡¯t hide from his problems. Kildare wouldn¡¯t abandon his team.


    His dark eyes were soft and tender as he gazed down at her. Kildare pulled her against him and kissed her. Like he always did. Passionate and breathless, like it was his last time to kiss her.


    But this time, for the first time, Serene worried it truly might be.


    Serene clutched his arms and kissed back. She wished she could tell him to stay. To come to bed with her, back at the tavern. Tonight, she needed to run her fingers through his hair, and snuggle into the crook of his arm, and listen to his voice rumble in his chest as he calmed her and reassured her that everything would be all right.


    But that would be a surefire way to get them caught.


    So she let him go. Even though it felt like her heart was pulling out of shape, wanting to follow after him.


    ¡°See you soon, my fire in the sky.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d better,¡± she choked out, hardly daring to speak for the fear and the anger clogging her throat.


    Let him be safe. Let him succeed, and oh, gods, let him be safe.

 Chapter 13: Kildare

    That night was cloudy, perfect for thieving. Kildare crouched on top of a building, forcing himself to not even look at Serene¡¯s window, where he knew she¡¯d be watching through cracked curtains. Instead, he kept his eyes straight ahead, fixed on the towering hall that rose several stories above the neighboring buildings. Fir sat with him, waiting.


    It had been nearly an hour since Mock and Snitch had left, and it shouldn¡¯t have been taking that long.


    Fir cleared his throat. ¡°Think they stopped along the way for a cuddle?¡±


    ¡°Are they even still together?¡±


    Fir shrugged. ¡°Maybe I should¡¯ve gone.¡±


    Kildare nodded. His thoughts strayed to Serene. How terrified she¡¯d acted. What kind of hold did Basalt have on her? Although... It had been Eras¡¯s name that had really frightened her. And angered her. He still wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d forgiven him once he¡¯d slipped away.


    Kildare rolled his shoulders back and shook off the thoughts. Focus. Tonight, he needed to focus. Once he had her contract in hand, Serene would forgive him for not listening to her.


    ¡°There it is.¡±


    Kildare looked up. One lone, near-silent firework zipped upward, the glaring red illuminating the side of the hall. Feet above the roof, it popped. And in that glowing pop of color, Kildare spotted three men standing on the rooftop.


    ¡°Pox,¡± Fir spat. He glanced up at Kildare. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    Kildare stood, flexed his shoulders again. ¡°We knew there was a possibility there would be guards on the roof. You have the grappler?¡±


    Fir patted his belt, where the grappler swung beside his pouch of thieves¡¯ tools. Kildare nodded and pulled off his shirt. As he shifted, the light fiber of the dragonsbane fading into his scales, Fir grabbed a backpack full of more tools, quickly stuffing Kildare¡¯s shirt into the top. Kildare raised up on his hind legs and flapped his arms, rising into the air. He grasped the reinforced handle on the back of the rucksack.


    Another firework popped. Two of the guards jogged to the other side of the roof, trying to figure out where the firework had come from, while the other opened the door of the guards¡¯ shack, presumably to go downstairs to tell the other guards what was going on.


    It was now or never.


    Fir bit back a yelp as they leaped off the rooftop. Kildare wobbled a bit as he jerked on the backpack. He noticed Fir¡¯s knuckles whitening as the Alfaren clung to the straps around his arms.


    As they got closer to the hall, Kildare swept lower to the rooftops, making Fir curl his feet up with a mutter of protest. Kildare squinted, trying to find the tiniest bit of green that Fir¡¯s ley could manipulate, making it easier for the Alfaren to climb, but the building was far too well upkept for that. He sighed and swept upward, leveraging all of his momentum to glide up without beating his wings. Just as he started to feel like he was losing speed, he swung his legs upward, pitching Fir at the ornately arched windows just below the roofline. Kildare tucked his wings, turned his stomach to the sky, and began to fall. He held his breath, bracing himself to snap open his wings and dive to rescue Fir, but the Alfaren¡¯s nimble fingers latched onto a carved ledge and clung.


    Kildare breathed out, opened his wings, and in three swift beats, shot above the rooftop. He shifted in midair, dropped to the roof, and rolled. He came up in a crouch, watching, but the guards were still at the opposite end of the roof, hidden by the glass dome of the entryway, though he could hear them talking in between the now more frequent pops of the rockets.


    Fir heaved the backpack up onto the roof. Kildare grabbed it, then grabbed Fir¡¯s hand and heaved him onto the roof.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t even need the grappler,¡± Fir said, grinning.


    Another pop sounded, but it was weaker. The fireworks were about over.


    ¡°C¡¯mon.¡± Kildare ran to the guard shack and tried the handle. Locked. He hadn¡¯t noticed the guard using a key to open it, but maybe he¡¯d locked it from the inside. Smart.


    Fir flipped open his set of lockpicks and inserted them into the lock. Ten seconds and the door swung open. Kildare retrieved his belt from the backpack and slung it around his waist as they stepped into the shack and started down the narrow spiral staircase. Their footsteps echoed in the stone shaft, but judging by the sounds echoing into the stairwell, their descent was covered by the chaos the fireworks outside were causing.


    Kildare reached the bottom of the stairwell first and nudged the door. It eased open. The hinges didn¡¯t even squeal. He poked his head out into the hall. Most of the hall was dark, with just a few flickering lanterns hung here and there to illuminate the cases. The scrolling metal curtains blocked any light from the outside, each pulled over a window and padlocked shut. From the echoing voices, he guessed that most of the guards had run to the front of the building. Maybe even outside.


    He glanced over his shoulder, raised his eyebrows. Fir nodded.


    They slipped into the hall, and Kildare gently closed the door behind them. Fir went straight for one of the glass display cases, while Kildare jogged along the back wall, testing the doors. The first he tried was locked, but a little jiggling of the handle popped it open, revealing an empty office. The second door swung open at a touch, revealing a staircase lit by a single lantern hanging from the ceiling.


    Kildare looked over his shoulder, then descended, gently pulling the door closed. A few steps down, the stairs turned sharply, then opened up into a basement. A lantern hung from the ceiling again, but it was utilitarian, just a small metal cage to provide a place to set a candle, nothing like the ornate wrought ironwork that hung in the hall. A few shelves lined the basic wooden walls, and there was a closed wooden door across from the bottom of the staircase. Kildare put his hand on the door handle, which was also made of wood, and stiffened. The hair on the back of his neck rose. He could taste some acidic tang in the air, and there was a faint metallic buzz that set his teeth on edge.


    He pushed open the door.


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    An enormous vinegar battery sat in a long, low-ceilinged room. Each pottery jar was chest-height and as big around as a good-size tree trunk. Each stopper had a wire coiling out of the top, snaking upward to the ceiling, where they all joined together and ran in a thick bundle up through what looked like a hollowed out pillar. Kildare was willing to bet that if he could follow the wires, they would lead through the pillar up to the ceiling of the hall, eventually spreading out to the glittering net that covered the underside of the skylight.


    He reached into his toolkit and pulled out the gloves Fir had made for him. He¡¯d spent half the night dipping a pair of new leather gloves into hevea sap, coating the palm and fingers of each hand with the sticky sap and drying it over the fire before adding the next layer. Supposedly, they would protect him from the vinegar battery, which Snitch claimed had enough voltage to fry anyone, even if they possessed the extra-tough skin and healing powers of a shifter.


    Now, confronted with the buzzing, acidic specimen itself, Kildare wasn¡¯t so sure. He licked his lips, then drew the gloves over his hands. The hevea sap made them stiff and clumsy, but would work well enough for the job. He pulled the wire cutters from his belt and went to work, snipping each wire from the top of the jar.


    Normally, they wouldn¡¯t even bother. Two inside could generally pull off a job, while the two outside provided plenty of distractions. But they needed everyone inside on this one. Kildare planned on hauling off enough treasure that he could pay his team, pay off Serene¡¯s contract, and still have enough for them all to lay low for a couple of years after this. And to do that, he needed his entire team.


    He was halfway done with the jars when he heard footsteps clomping down the stairs. Kildare scrambled to the back of the room and ducked down behind the pots, watching between them.


    A guard came into the room, sword drawn, a lantern held low so it brightened the room but didn¡¯t glare too much in his eyes. The man looked over the battery, and his eyes narrowed when he saw the cut wires. He sighed. ¡°You may as well come out. There¡¯s only so many places to hide in here, and trust me, I know them all.¡±


    Might as well get it over with. Kildare stood up and whipped the wire cutters at the guard¡¯s head. He scrambled around the battery as a clang sounded, and the guard stepped in front of him, a notch out of his sword and an irritated look in his eyes.


    Kildare reached out and grabbed the lantern swinging from the man¡¯s fist. The metal was hot, but not searing. He wrenched it free and stepped back. Now, at least, he had something a little better than his dagger to block the guard¡¯s swings with.


    The guard lunged forward.


    Kildare threw himself backward. The sword tip whistled within inches of his chest. He hit the ground on his shoulders and threw himself into a roll, coming up on his knees. The guard was already swinging again. Kildare batted the sword away with the lantern, watching the point take a deep gouge out of one of the pottery jars. He jumped, driving his shoulder into the guard¡¯s stomach. They crashed hard against another jar. It split open, and the vinegar washed into Kildare¡¯s face.


    He let go of the guard¡¯s shirt and rolled to the side, gagging and wiping at his eyes. His nose and mouth burned. He blinked and looked down. The guard lay at his feet, the bloodied tip of a pottery shard poking through his shoulders and a gash across his temple. The smell of fresh blood was already mingling with the stench of the vinegar.


    Kildare¡¯s gut heaved, and he pressed the side of his fist against his mouth. When he¡¯d pushed down the urge to be sick, he straightened and looked for his wire cutters.


    They lay near the door, in pieces.


    ¡°Dammit.¡± Kildare leaned his head back and sighed. There was only one other option. Muttering apologies to the guard, Kildare quickly knocked over the remaining eight jars that he hadn¡¯t gotten to before the fight. The stink of vinegar rose until by the end he was gagging and coughing as he tipped over the last jar. He left the gloves and wire cutters where they lay and splashed to the door, dragged the guard to the bottom of the stairs so the man wouldn¡¯t drown, then ran up the stairs as fast as he could. The hall above was in total darkness, save for a hovering globe of Mock¡¯s purple werelight. Kildare followed the light and found Fir, Mock, and Snitch hovering over the body of an unconscious guard.


    No, not unconscious. A thin trickle of blood webbed the tile floor, seeping from underneath the guard¡¯s body, and a bloody gap slashed across his throat.


    Fir looked up at his footsteps. ¡°Snitch killed him,¡± he said flatly.


    ¡°I never,¡± Snitch growled. ¡°I told you half a dozen times already, that.¡± He looked at Kildare and wrinkled his nose. ¡°You reek of vinegar, Kil.¡±


    Kildare ignored him and looked at Mock.


    She looked at the floor and licked her lips. ¡°I dunno. The net only went out on one side so we broke a skylight and rappelled down. We got separated looking for the guards. I thought there were five, and I knocked out three and went looking for everyone else. Found them two were leaning over this body.¡±


    ¡°And I found Snitch with blood on his hands,¡± Fir said.


    ¡°I tell you, it weren¡¯t me!¡±


    ¡°You missed one,¡± Kildare told Mock. ¡°He came down to the basement.¡±


    ¡°Are you hurt?¡± she asked.


    Kildare shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s knocked out.¡± He pressed his lips to a thin line. ¡°You guys know I don¡¯t like leaving bodies in our wake. At this rate we¡¯re going to get a bounty on our heads.¡±


    ¡°But I swear to all of you, I never touched this one!¡± Snitch said.


    ¡°Fir?¡± Kildare looked at him,


    Fir shook his head.


    ¡°Mock, you¡¯re sure you didn¡¯t miscount?¡±


    The look of anger on her face was enough. She¡¯d been illiterate when she¡¯d joined the team, and though she could write, read, and spell with the perfection of a noblewoman now, she hated the reminder.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Kildare said. ¡°You know it had to be asked.¡±


    ¡°We need to get outta here,¡± Mock said


    ¡°But I¡¯ve only emptied three cases!¡± Fir protested. ¡°We need this job!¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Snitch growled."Someone else is here, which means someone¡¯s onto us, and judging by the fact that they killed a guard, I don¡¯t think they¡¯d be so friendly to other thieves." He looked at Kildare. ¡°This is Serene¡¯s doing. I told you this was a trap.¡±


    Kildare¡¯s guts twisted at his words.


    Kildare ground his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was run. The thought of putting off his wife¡¯s freedom made him sick¡ªnot to mention, the longer they waited, the more likely it was that Basalt would notice something was up. Especially if Serene was right and Eras already suspected something. He had to get her out.


    And that, right there, made the decision for him.


    ¡°Listen,¡± he growled, his deep bass rumble cutting through the arguments of the other three. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, but Fir is right. We need this job.¡±


    Mock tilted her head to one side a little and frowned. ¡°You¡¯ve been holding out on us. There¡¯s something you need money for too, isn¡¯t there?¡±


    Rot. She was always too perceptive for her own good.


    Fir looked at him in shock. ¡°What?¡±


    Snitch merely looked smug.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later,¡± Kildare hissed, glaring at Mock. ¡°Right now, we need to focus. Snitch, what are your debts?¡±


    ¡°Fifty goldmarks.¡±


    Kildare looked at the other two.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Mock said. ¡°Unlike some people, I live modestly and have a stash hidden.¡±


    ¡°I could do with a few hundred,¡± Fir admitted quietly.


    Snitch gaped at him. ¡°You?¡±


    Kildare nodded, jaw bunching. ¡°Gambling debts?¡±


    Fir nodded, looking at the floor.


    Rot it all. He¡¯d thought he knew these people. Especially Fir."Kil? How much do you need?" Mock demanded.


    But then...who was he to judge? He looked at the dead guard and his throat tightened. ¡°A thousand.¡±


    Fir audibly gasped.


    ¡°Are you rotting joking?¡± Snitch yelled.


    Mock punched him. ¡°Keep your voice down, you pox-riddled idiot!¡±


    Fir stared at him for a moment, then said, ¡°Plus expenses and enough to keep us all sustained and hidden for about six months, I assume? That will come to about ten thousand goldmarks.¡±


    Kildare nodded. He was well aware.


    ¡°Well.¡± Fir sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll need about six more items, just to be sure. Some of this stuff we might not be able to fence right away. Mock, go see what you can find. Snitch, watch her back.¡± He looked at Kildare for approval.


    Kildare nodded.


    Mock tapped the side of her werelight, guiding it in front of her as she and Snitch walked away.


    Fir stood, conjured his own golden werelight with a flick of his hands, and looked at Kildare. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s find that puzzle box.¡±

 Chapter 14: Kildare

    Kildare stood behind Fir, watching him maneuver the lock picks, his fingers bending in ways human or shifter hands couldn¡¯t as he held five different tools. The padlocks, though small, looked fiendishly complicated, and he was just glad he didn¡¯t have to try one on his own. He¡¯d make an idiot of himself.


    More than he¡¯d already done tonight, anyway.


    The purple werelight hovered close to Fir¡¯s head, casting things into weird shadow. He squinted into the darkness, his eyes quickly adjusting so that he could make out the shapes of display cases beyond the werelight. Nothing moved. He could vaguely hear Mock and Snitch¡¯s voices as they worked, but he couldn¡¯t see them or discern what they were saying.


    ¡°Six thousand,¡± Fir said softly. ¡°You think you know someone...¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s ironic, but, please, just trust me.¡±


    ¡°This wouldn¡¯t happen to have anything to do with Serene, would it?¡±


    Kildare¡¯s skin chilled, and he spun around. Fir stuck a pick in one side of his mouth, not looking up.


    ¡°How...¡± Kildare muttered.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you when Snitch starts to grumble about her.¡±


    ¡°I thought Mock was supposed to be the discerning one.¡±


    ¡°No dispersions on Mock, but she hasn¡¯t been your friend for years.¡±


    ¡°And Snitch?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think Snitch can love anyone as much as he loves himself.¡± Fir took the pick out of his mouth and poked at Kildare¡¯s thumb. ¡°Besides, I saw this.¡±


    The unity tattoo. The makeup had come off during his struggle with the guard. Kildare rubbed the tattoo, then said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for not telling you.¡±


    Especially Fir. He¡¯d been Kildare¡¯s friend longest. Out of any of them, Kildare should¡¯ve been able to trust him.


    Fir kept his eyes on the lock, but slightly lifted one shoulder in a shrug.


    Kildare¡¯s stomach churned. He looked away, scanning the room again, and something glinting green in a case at the edge of the light caught his eye.


    ¡°Hey, Fir, check this out.¡± He took a few steps toward it.


    ¡°Little busy here.¡±


    Kildare stepped toward the case and placed his hand on the smooth glass top, leaning close to get a better look at what was inside. At first glance, it was only a simple wooden box, but what had caught his eye was the intricate golden keyhole on the front, seamlessly sunken into the wooden around it. The wood itself was a deep golden color, rich and covered with tiny little carvings of leaves and vines, so detailed that it almost looked alive.


    Kildare tapped the top of the display case. ¡°Found the puzzle box.¡±


    Fir came over, carefully placing a gem-studded brooch into his bag, and stared at the box, eyes narrowed.


    ¡°What? I thought you were excited to get your hands on this thing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I just... I¡¯ve been thinking about what Mock said. It does kinda seem weird that Basalt wants this thing so badly.¡±


    Kildare ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°I know, but we need this job, Fir. More than I realized.¡±


    Fir shrugged and bent over the lock.


    Kildare leaned over the case, studying the box as well as he could under Fir¡¯s werelight. It looked seamless. Even the golden lock melded into the wood around it. Kildare bit his lower lip. The puzzle box would more than cover Serene¡¯s contract. Briefly, he wondered if the crime lord would accept an outright trade¡ªthe box for the contract. He shook his head. He¡¯d have to make sure the rest of his team was okay with that¡ªno more secrets.


    It might not matter. Based on Fir¡¯s reaction, they might not want him on the team any more. Kildare¡¯s throat tightened with¡ªwhat? Fear? Anticipation? Did he actually want to leave his life and team behind? The thought of settling down somewhere with Serene, maybe...maybe even having kids, without the fear of Basalt claiming them.


    He blew out a soft breath.


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    The padlock clicked.


    Fir stuffed his picks into his tool belt and eased the lid off the case. He picked up the box, awe shining on his face, and stroked a gentle hand over the top of the box. ¡°Look at this.¡± He ducked his head down, squinting at the tiny script on a plate on the bottom of the box. ¡°He wasn¡¯t lying. This really is made by Beech Willon.¡±


    Kildare held out his hands, and Fir passed the box over to him. Kildare¡¯s fingers had barely touched the silky smooth surface before a jolt of pain lanced up his arms and into his head. Kildare cried out and shoved the box back at Fir, jerking away. He doubled over, pressing his palms to his temples.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Fir demanded, grabbing his shoulder.


    Kildare winced and blinked several times. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡ª¡± He straightened and reached for the box, stopping just short of touching it. The energy wasn¡¯t painful now, but he could still feel it, and a faint whiff of ozone rose to his nostrils. Kildare sniffed. ¡°There¡¯s something powerful in there, Fir. I smell ley.¡±


    In fact¡­he had never smelled ley so strong. Mock and Fir had always had a lingering scent around them, especially if they¡¯d recently used ley.


    Fir blanched. ¡°It has something in it?¡±


    Kildare nodded.


    ¡°Great blight,¡± Fir muttered. He looked down at the box, then back up at Kildare. ¡°Should we still take it?¡±


    Kildare worried at his lower lip. Only shifters could sense ley, so it was possible that whoever had donated the box for display, and the museum curators, had no idea that it held anything of value. And maybe he was wrong¡ªmaybe it had absorbed ley at some point. Sometimes things did that.


    ¡°Messing with ley stuff is tricky,¡± Fir said. ¡°If we make the wrong person angry...¡±


    ¡°No one will know we stole it,¡± Kildare said.


    ¡°What if that is why Basalt wants it? He doesn¡¯t care about the box, he just wants whatever¡¯s inside of it?¡±


    ¡°Fir, stop!¡± Kildare clenched his hands and forced himself to lower his voice. ¡°Just...stop. We¡¯re committed now. I¡¯m sorry it makes you nervous, but we literally have no choice.¡±


    Fir glanced down at the box in his hands. His face twitched. Then he sighed and put the box carefully into his pack. ¡°So that¡¯s it then, right? We¡¯ve got enough?¡±


    ¡°I think so. Let¡¯s find the others.¡± Kildare turned, trying to spot Mock¡¯s werelight. It hovered some ways away, close by one of the walls.They headed toward the hovering werelight.


    As they got closer, Kildare thought he heard a scuffle across the marble floor behind him. He whirled. Fir¡¯s golden werelight shone brightly, illuminating the cases around them, but there was no one there.


    Fir cursed loudly.


    Kildare spun around again.


    The space under Mock¡¯s werelight was empty. Lockpicks and other tools were scattered on the white floor, and Mock and Snitch¡¯s backpacks were propped against the display case¡¯s marble stand, but there was no sign of their teammates.


    ¡°Rot it all,¡± Kildare muttered.


    A sound like rope running through a leather casing sounded from above them. Kildare looked up. Two dark figures hurtled down toward them. He grabbed Fir¡¯s arm and yanked him out of the way. They tumbled to the floor as the two men landed where they¡¯d been standing.


    Kildare scrambled to his feet and yanked a stiletto from his boot. He felt Fir¡¯s shoulders knock into his back as the Alfaren drew his own knife.


    With another loud zipping sound, two men landed on their other side. The four men pointed crossbows at them.


    Kildare rolled the stiletto handle in his hand. Each of the men wore a Knocken-designed grappling belt around his waist, but a reel box was attached to the belts, a thin rope disappearing above their heads into the darkness of the ceiling.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know this was an open-invitation party,¡± Fir quipped.


    ¡°I had a few extras,¡± Mock said from behind Kildare.


    He swung around. Mock stood near the wall¡ªhe could see the decorative curtain she¡¯d pushed aside to hide behind¡ªwith one arm extended, pointing a one-handed crossbow at Kildare¡¯s chest. The other arm was around Snitch¡¯s throat, holding the flat of a knife against his jaw. The thief¡¯s hands were bound in front of him and a gag was around his mouth. He looked just conscious enough to hold himself upright.


    Mock swung the crossbow from Kildare¡¯s chest to Fir¡¯s. ¡°Drop the knife, Kil.¡±


    Kildare¡¯s thoughts spun. He extended one hand to Mock. ¡°What is this? Why¡ª¡±


    She sighed and tightened her finger on the trigger. ¡°What does it look like, Kil? Pox, for someone who can always plan heists to perfection, you¡¯re slow on the uptake.¡±


    Kildare hesitated, swept his eyes around the semi-circle of crossbows aimed at them. His gut sank. There was no way out of this. If he even twitched his hand the wrong way, he¡¯d get a bolt in the neck. Spreading his free hand, he knelt and slid his stiletto to Mock. She swept it behind her with one foot and motioned him downward with the crossbow.


    Fir gritted his teeth and took a step away, hand clenched tight around the strap of his backpack.


    ¡°Fir, no!¡± Kildare signed to him. Stand down. ¡°Don¡¯t get yourself killed because of a stupid score.¡±


    Mock snorted. ¡°You were the one who insisted we needed this job, Kil.¡±


    Fir¡¯s eyes flicked from him to Mock, then he grimaced and set down the backpack.


    One of the Alfaren immediately stepped forward to grab it. Kildare felt Fir tense beside him and grabbed his friend¡¯s arm, shaking his head.


    Fir looked up at Mock. ¡°Why?¡± he demanded. ¡°What did we ever do to you that deserves this, Mock?¡±


    She smirked. ¡°Nothin¡¯. I just found someone willing to pay more, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Five years as a crew¡ª¡± Kildare started.


    ¡°And a year of that you spent lying to us!¡± she snapped. ¡°Not just about the money, Kil. You lied to us about Serene.¡±


    Kildare¡¯s scalp prickled. ¡°I¡ªwhat?¡± He didn¡¯t want to even look at Fir. Couldn¡¯t.


    Even as Mock sneered in disgust, her left hand went to her right wrist, her fingers circling her wrist as if they missed the familiar jingle of a charm bracelet.


    The bracelet on Kildare¡¯s own wrist felt suddenly, strangely heavy.


    Mock averted her gaze to the side as she snarled, ¡°Rotting shifter.¡± She looked past Kildare at one of her co-conspirators and nodded.


    Footsteps clacked on the tile floor. Kildare braced himself, but heard a dull thud. Beside him, Fir tensed, then collapsed to the floor, head rapping hard against the tile.


    Kildare didn¡¯t have time to move before something struck him in the back of the head. He tumbled to the floor, managing to catch himself. Another blow, and the last thing Kildare saw was the pale reflection of Fir¡¯s golden werelight wink out.

 Chapter 15: Kildare

    It was still dark when Kildare awoke.


    Wait. It was too dark.


    Kildare squinted, looking for signs of torchlight or Alfaren werelight among the vague shadows of the display cases. Only a little weak, shadowed moonlight filtered through the skylight in the middle of the room.


    Kildare closed his eyes and sat still, hoping the throbbing ache in the back of his head would subside. As it faded, he was able to focus on other parts of his body.


    His back and shoulders ached. There was a rope around his chest, pinning him in place with his back against one of the pillars at the side of the room. His arms felt partially numb. He lifted his left arm¡ªit felt strangely heavy, and he realized that he¡¯d been bound, wrist to wrist and elbow to elbow on both arms, to someone else. He twisted his head, tried to get a glimpse around the pillar. It was too dark.


    ¡°Fir?¡± he whispered. ¡°Fir? Snitch?¡±


    Even his whisper seemed overly loud.


    How long had it been since Mock and her friends had left them? Kildare tried to backtrack, tried to figure how long they¡¯d been in the museum since they¡¯d set off the fireworks. But even the moonlight was too dim to give him a clue. He felt hopelessly lost. His heart hammered hard in his throat. The fireworks would¡¯ve attracted someone¡¯s attention. There would probably be reinforcements from the city guard coming at any moment.


    He ground his teeth. And Mock had just mercilessly left them to take the brunt of the blame.


    ¡°Fir?¡± he tried again. Kildare twisted his arm, seeing if he could wriggle his wrist free.


    Someone grunted behind him.


    Kildare stopped.


    A few seconds later, Fir¡¯s voice floated out from the darkness. ¡°Is...is anyone there?¡± he croaked.


    ¡°Fir! Thank Naran Ara, you¡¯re alive.¡±


    Fir chuckled drily. ¡°You¡¯re desperate if you¡¯ve been praying.¡±


    ¡°Shut your mouth.¡± Kildare tugged on his wrist. ¡°Can you get yourself free?¡±


    ¡°Let me see.¡± Fir was quiet for a few moments, then muttered, ¡°They¡¯ve got us tied up tighter than a jungle snake¡¯s prey. Okay, I can try, but let me know if it hurts you too much.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    Fir pulled his arms forward, twisting Kildare¡¯s arms back. Kildare bit the inside of his lip as it pulled at the sore muscles of his shoulders.


    After a few seconds Fir swore and Kildare¡¯s arms relaxed.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Kildare snapped.


    ¡°This would be a lot easier if I¡¯d been awake when they tied me up,¡± Fir growled. ¡°How about your secret girlfriend? Why hasn¡¯t she turned up yet?¡±


    Kildare¡¯s chest tightened. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t be here tonight.¡±


    ¡°Rot that,¡± Fir snapped. ¡°She¡¯s always around. You think we didn¡¯t notice? Even after you supposedly had a ¡®talk¡¯ with her and she stopped stealing things from right under our noses, she was still around.¡±


    ¡°We had a talk, Fir. She knew this was a big score for us. She wouldn¡¯t be around tonight.¡±


    Fir snorted. ¡°She was probably in it with Mock.¡±


    A bitter taste filled the back of Kildare¡¯s mouth, and for a second he thought he might vomit. No. She wouldn¡¯t have. A bond-mate was a mate for life. She wouldn¡¯t have abused that purely for a score.


    His stomach churned.


    A creaking sound echoed across the museum. Then voices and footsteps.


    Kildare¡¯s arms wrenched as Fir started to struggle. He could feel the Alfaren¡¯s squirming as the ropes around his own chest tightened.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Kil...¡± Fir¡¯s voice was panicked. ¡°Kil, those are guards! We¡¯re gonna get caught!¡±


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± Kildare looked back and forth in the darkness, hands shaking. There had to be a way out. He closed his eyes, searched for the feel of a fresh breeze against his face. If he could just get a message out to Serene...


    The sound of voices was coming closer, breaking his concentration. Kildare gritted his teeth, trying to push away his panic. He could still feel it, snarling in the back of his mind. And all he could sense was the stale eddies of the museum air, musty and useless.


    ¡°There they are!¡± someone shouted.


    Scales broke along the backs of his hands. Kildare opened his eyes and snarled at the armored guard standing in front of him.


    The man yelped and jumped back, fumbling at his sword. ¡°Edden! Captain Edden!¡± he yelled. ¡°There¡¯s a wyvern!¡±


    ¡°Kildare!¡± Fir hissed. ¡°Kil! Settle down! They¡¯ll shoot you!¡±


    Kil jerked at the cords binding his wrists. Panic made him feel like he was drowning, like he could breathe deeply enough. Something tight around his chest snapped.


    Fir shrieked in pain.


    The sound of his friend snapped Kil out of his panicked haze just in time to see a blur at the edge of his blind spot. A tiny jab hit the meat of his bicep. Kildare twisted and snapped at the guard, who jerked his hand away just in time to avoid losing fingers. Kildare could feel his fangs sliding into place, so he bared his teeth again.


    The room around him started rocking. Kildare swung around, trying to find Fir, but the movement made him sway and sag forward. It felt like he was on board a ship and the deck was pitching underneath him.


    Kildare swayed again and put his hand out to catch himself. He stared at his hand, fingers splayed on the cool marble underneath him. That meant something. What... He was free. When had he gotten free?


    The room pitched again, bringing a new sensation. Kildare swallowed back bile. Oh gods, he was gonna puke.


    Hands grasped his arms, pulled him to his feet. Chains locked around his wrists. Kildare looked up, blinked, tried to focus. There was Fir, being dragged off with chains around his arms, kicking and yelling.


    And Snitch, limp between two guards, long hair hanging in his face.


    A man in the chest plate of a city guard captain stepped in front of Kildare, eyes narrowed.


    Kildare cursed.


    The man grinned. ¡°I¡¯d say that about sums up your problem, yeah.¡±


    ¡°I can explain, though,¡± Kildare said. His tongue felt thick in his mouth.


    The man¡¯s grin fell. ¡°You start up with that bull and I¡¯ll order you gagged until you¡¯re in front of a judge. Shut up.¡±


    Kildare shut up. He¡¯d known a few guys who could charm their way out of anything, but he¡¯d always worked differently. There¡¯d be no way he was talking himself and Fir out of this one.


    Two city guards grabbed his arms and steered him toward the door. Kildare twisted around, searching for anything, anyone, who might help, but all he saw were city guards swarming the enormous display room, examining the empty cases.


    As soon as he was outside, the humid sea breeze hit him full in the face. Kildare squeezed his eyes shut and formed his whirling thoughts into one tightly coalesced ball of emotion, and whispered.


    ¡°Serene. Help me.¡±


    He opened his eyes and saw the shimmering, translucent opal thought flicker into the air on the breeze. Now he just prayed it got to her in time.


    One guard slapped the back of his head, nearly jarring him to his knees. ¡°Pray to whatever goddess you like, you¡¯re not getting out of this, thief.¡±


    Thief. The word was bitter from the man¡¯s mouth and stung more than he thought it would.


    Two barred wagons stood in the street. Snitch was already in one, arms chained behind him to the side of the wagon. As soon as he saw Kildare, his face twisted into a snarl.


    ¡°Rot you, you stupid pox-riddled dragon changer!¡±


    Kildare startled away from him and stared. Snitch had never shouted at him like that.


    ¡°Hey, get a gag on him before he wakes up the entire city!¡± someone ordered. ¡°And put the shifter in with the Alfaren¡ªthose two look less likely to kill each other.¡±


    One of his guards broke off to pull open the cage door where Fir sat, huddled against the back wall.


    ¡°This is your fault, Kil! If you hadn¡¯t kept secrets, Mock wouldn¡¯t have left me! Mock wouldn¡¯t have gotten scared and jumped forward on the plan! This is your fault.¡±


    Kildare ground his teeth. Mock wouldn¡¯t have jumped forward on the plan. She and Snitch had been in on this together. Why had she betrayed Snitch, though?


    The guard lifted his wrists behind him, making Kildare wince and prompting him to step up into the wagon. Snitch¡¯s yells muffled as the guard shackled Kildare¡¯s wrists to the bars of the wagon. Kildare twisted to look over his shoulder. Snitch squirmed against his shackles, a bandana cinched between his teeth. His eyes blazed with anger.


    Kildare felt sick. Half of his team had been planning to betray him. After five years. Had been keeping Serene a secret from them really been so divisive?


    The guard straightened, then opened a crate at the back of the wagon, dug around, and pulled out a thick iron band with one hinge and a lock at the back. A shifter¡¯s slave collar.


    Kildare shrank back against the bars. Now he really felt like he might be sick.


    The guard crouched in front of him and held the collar up. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but protocol insists on this or fosseric, and I really think you want to avoid the fosseric.¡±


    Kildare swallowed. ¡°What about the dragonsbane you used on me in the museum?¡± He already knew the answer. Dragonsbane didn¡¯t last long enough, and it didn¡¯t cripple shifters in the way fosseric or a slaver¡¯s collar did. He was already feeling mostly back to normal.


    The man shook his head. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, and sounded like he actually meant it. He clicked the collar into place around Kildare¡¯s neck and hopped out of the wagon, swinging the door shut behind him.


    The wagon lurched and pulled forward, away from the museum.


    He risked a glance at Fir. His best friend sat staring straight ahead, jaw clenched, refusing to look at him. Kildare hung his head, squeezed his eyes shut again.


    Serene, please. Help me.

 Chapter 16: Kildare

    Kildare kept his eyes closed as the wagon swayed and rumbled down the street. His hands trembled. He could feel his feral side lurking close to the surface, but he forced it away. Collars didn¡¯t prevent shifters from changing, but even dragon muscles couldn¡¯t tear through the thick band. It would strangle a dragon before they¡¯d completed the change.


    He vividly remembered the first time he¡¯d seen a collar in use. His mentor, Mell, had been of the opinion that harsh lessons were easier to remember. He¡¯d taken Kildare to an underground baiting ring, where a shifter had been chained, collared, and taunted like a bear in a gladiator match. Until they¡¯d forced him into a panicked frenzy, and he¡¯d tried to shift.


    Every time the man had dropped the change, gone back to human form rather than dragon, they¡¯d jabbed him with spears. Even the most rational shifter would¡¯ve been maddened by that. After two hours of the treatment, the man had gone into a panicked frenzy and fully shifted, clearly out of his mind.


    Kildare remembered watching the iron collar dig tighter and tighter into the shifter¡¯s neck, the man¡¯s struggles becoming weaker and weaker until he¡¯d collapsed, half-changed, skin and scales an unhealthy blue.


    Scales pricked the back of his hand, and Kildare snapped his eyes open. He shook the memories away, looked up.


    Sometime when he¡¯d been lost in his memories, the other wagon containing only Snitch had left them behind. As he moved, trying to get himself a little more comfortable, the wagon suddenly swung into an alley.


    His heart dropped to his stomach. What was happening?


    Fir looked up, eyes widening. He turned from side to side, arching his back against the bars as he tried to look around the wood shielding the front of the wagon from their view. His fear was so high Kildare could smell it rolling off Fir, a sour stench that completely overrode the Alfaren¡¯s natural forest-like scent.He stretched his leg out, gently tapping the side of Fir¡¯s foot with his own.


    Fir glanced over at him, and Kildare nodded. whatever was going on, they could face it together.


    Fir nodded back, taking a visibly deep breath and calming himself.


    The wagon lurched to a halt, and the guard hopped down from his perch. He was shorter than Kildare had realized, and as he came around the side of the wagon, the lantern light at the edges of the alley caught his face.


    ¡°Taoh!¡± Kildare felt a chill crawl down his spine. What was Basalt¡¯s lieutenant doing here?


    The Knocken gave them a big, gap-toothed grin. ¡°Surprised? Lucky for you our informant in the city guard got to us in time, otherwise you¡¯d be warming a seat in the city jail right now.¡±


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± Fir blurted out.


    Kildare tugged at the restraints on his wrists. ¡°All right, get us out of here, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Did you get the puzzle box?¡±


    ¡°No, but¡ª¡±


    Taoh folded his arms and leaned against the cage¡¯s side. ¡°First you convince me. Then you convince Basalt.¡±


    Kildare swallowed. ¡°Mock took the puzzle box and left us for the city guard. I don¡¯t know who she¡¯s working for, but I know Mock.¡± Or at least I thought I did. ¡°We¡¯ll be able to track her and get the box back for Basalt. Maybe even figure out who was trying to take it from Basalt.¡± Kildare glanced over at Fir.


    Fir shrugged, glancing sideways at Taoh.


    Taoh grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll step away and let you two discuss it privately, but if I were you, I¡¯d hurry.¡± He turned and walked to the mouth of the alley.


    Kildare glanced over at Fir. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Is there even a choice?¡± Fir hissed back. ¡°We go with Taoh, or we get thrown in prison to rot our lives out. At least this way we get a chance.¡±


    ¡°But...¡±


    ¡°Rot the pox-ridden box, Kildare! I don¡¯t want to go to prison again!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s go to prison or go talk to Basalt, gentlemen,¡± Taoh called. ¡°Time¡¯s a¡¯tickin¡¯.¡±


    Kildare sighed, glanced upward at the roof of the building that overhung the alley.


    ¡°Is she gonna show up?¡± Fir whispered.


    Kildare shook his head. ¡°You realize Knocken have really good ears, right? Taoh has probably heard our entire conversation.¡±


    Fir pursed his lips.


    After a moment of quiet, Taoh turned, a big grin showing his square, stained teeth. ¡°Are we agreed, gentlemen?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll go negotiate with Basalt,¡± Kildare said carefully.


    Taoh chuckled. ¡°Good, careful choice of words.¡±


    He climbed back up on the front of the wagon and clicked his tongue at the horse.


    Kildare felt his stomach sink as the wagon lurched forward. He just hoped this wasn¡¯t a mistake.


    After a few minutes of the wagon squeezing through little back roads and alleys, they stopped again, this time in a spot where the alley widened a little behind some kind of storehouse. Kildare could smell fish and salt. They had to be close to the docks.


    As Taoh climbed down from his seat, several men faded from the shadows. Kildare felt a tug on the chains around his wrists, and he was free from the wagon.


    Taoh motioned him forward. Kildare hopped from the wagon. As soon his feet hit the cobblestones, something dropped over his head. He startled, and scales broke on the backs of his hands.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Fir yelled.


    Kildare stopped himself, taking a long, deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Fir.¡± It¡¯s all right, he repeated to himself.


    The bag cinched tight around his neck, and someone gripped his arm, steering him away from the wagon.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    They won¡¯t hurt us. We have a deal. Basalt wants that puzzle box. He¡¯s not going to hurt the only people who know where his precious artifact is.


    ¡°We ready?¡± Taoh asked.


    ¡°Got ¡®em both hooded,¡± someone replied.


    ¡°Good. Take them to the safe house. I¡¯ll dump the wagon and join you there. Be wary.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    Another hand gripped Kildare¡¯s other arm. He remembered that all together, there had been four newcomers. Two for him, two for Fir. They propelled him forward, and Kildare felt a doorframe brush his shoulder.


    ¡°Keep going,¡± one of the men said quietly. ¡°There¡¯s a step down coming right...here. Good. Now watch your head. Okay, stop.¡±


    The man continued to mutter directions in a low tone for several minutes, alerting Kildare every time he could have injured himself. On one hand, Kildare was grateful for the guidance¡ªthe last time he¡¯d been hooded like this, he¡¯d nearly broken an ankle walking down a set of stairs.


    On the other hand...these guys were very experienced in this. Kildare couldn¡¯t help but shiver at the thought.


    A trapdoor creaked.


    ¡°All right, we¡¯re gonna lower you down the ladder.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± Kildare said.


    Boots thumped against wooden rungs. Kildare held his breath, trying to listen for other voices behind them.


    Nothing.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Fir?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± The guide¡¯s grip on his arms tightened, and he pushed him forward. ¡°Turn around. I won¡¯t let you fall. Now take a step down.¡±


    Kildare balked, bracing his feet against the floor. ¡°Where. Is. Fir?¡±


    ¡°They went another way. Now stop acting like a child.¡±


    Kildare ground his teeth. Normally, he wouldn¡¯t be too worried. Every one of his team could take care of themselves. But chained and hooded, just like he was... It hurt to know there was no way he could come to Fir¡¯s aid.


    He turned, took a step, found the rung, and eased himself backward. Hands pressed on his legs, then his back, keeping him steady as he climbed backward down the ladder.


    He probably could¡¯ve done it on his own, but best to keep up the illusion that he was helpless.


    Once his feet were solidly on firm ground again, he heard the trapdoor close and the sounds of the second guard climbing down the ladder. The two men grasped his arms again, leading him down a tunnel. It smelled of salt and earth and rotting wood. Exactly how safe was it?


    Kildare pushed the thought from his mind. It wasn¡¯t something he could control.


    A door opened, and a rush of warm, salty air hit Kildare full in the face. Birds screeched somewhere nearby.


    And another thing...just a wisp of a voice. Just a hint of Serene¡¯s musky scent on the wind.


    I¡¯m watching, my love.


    Kildare fought not to sag with relief. She¡¯d gotten his message. This one hadn¡¯t been sent very long ago, from the fresh-wind scent, and he closed his eyes as the wind swept around his shoulders. A flicker of a dark alleyway. Hiding. Not wanting to be seen.


    She¡¯d been there.


    He¡¯d thought it would be a relief once he¡¯d heard from her...but now...fear and anxiety gnawed at his gut. Was Serene lying to him? Playing him? Was her message true, or was it just a way to calm him until Mock¡¯s trail was too cold to follow?


    You can¡¯t lie in a wind message.


    He¡¯d heard that somewhere. One of his parents? One of the thieves who had raised him? Was it true?


    He hoped so.


    ¡°Duck your head.¡± One of the guides placed a hand on his neck, forcing his head forward.


    Kildare bent and felt another doorway, this one low and small. As he straightened on the other side, he heard a door close. The air around them felt still, though not stale. They were in a small room.


    ¡°Step up.¡±


    He obeyed and felt stairs under his feet. Kildare stumbled up the stairs and was guided down a narrow hallway¡ªtoo narrow for even two people to walk abreast. Another door creaked open, and he was pushed inside. The door clanged behind him.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Kildare started to spin around.


    ¡°Relax. Back up and let me get those chains off you.¡±


    Kildare took several steps back and bumped into a metal grate. Hands caught his wrists and pulled at the chains. After a moment, the chains rattled and were removed.


    Kildare stepped forward and yanked the hood off.


    He stood in good-sized bedroom. The bed was stacked with several blankets, though he couldn¡¯t imagine needing them in this heat, and there was a thick rug covering the wooden flooring.


    ¡°Any questions?¡± One of his guides asked.


    He turned around.


    The man stood on the other side of the metal grated door, winding the chain that had been around Kildare¡¯s wrists into a neat coil.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Fir?¡± Kildare demanded.


    The man rolled his eyes. ¡°He¡¯ll be along soon.¡±


    ¡°When can I talk to him? Or to Basalt?¡±


    ¡°I doubt you¡¯ll be allowed to talk to your friend until you meet with Basalt. And as for that¡ª¡± the man shrugged. ¡°Basalt won¡¯t want to leave this issue sitting for too long, but he¡¯ll want to be careful. It¡¯s well known in the city that he has a taste for Alfaren art pieces. He may have to lie low today.¡±


    Kildare nodded, trying not to look impatient. ¡°And what about this?¡± He tugged on the slave collar around his neck.


    The man shrugged. ¡°I wasn¡¯t given any instructions regarding that. You done?¡±


    Kildare rubbed the back of his neck, but nodded.


    Without another word, the man slammed a thick wooden door into place. Kildare heard a padlock rattle on the other side, then footsteps as the man walked away.


    Kildare turned to one of the windows. The wooden shutters opened inward, revealing a thick, warped glass pane behind heavy iron bars. The pane¡¯s latch undid easily, and he pushed it up to reveal a view of several empty wharves. A low morning fog hung over the harbor, the pink dawn light refracting off it. Even at this time of day, Kildare could already feel the sticky, humid heat rising into the room.


    He plucked at the front of his shirt and turned away from the window. They couldn¡¯t move for twelve hours anyway, but he hoped Basalt would meet with them soon.


    Because now that he had a moment to think, the realization hit him hard.


    Mock had betrayed them. Her team.


    Kildare slumped to the floor, his back pressed against the wall. Fear, anger, betrayal swirled in his chest, making him feel as heated as the sunlight streaming in on him. He clenched his hands as scales broke out on his arms.


    How could she? What had any of them ever done to her? By the mountains and the stars, they¡¯d rescued her from a brothel. Sooner or later, she would¡¯ve been sold for her virginity. It wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d ever asked anything from her.


    Slowly, his anger faded. It wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d been an exemplary model for trusting his team. Maybe Mock had been afraid they were on the verge of dissolving. Maybe there was something she hadn¡¯t shared, something that could have convinced her to¡ª


    ¡°Kil!¡±


    He looked up.


    Serene clung to the bars, scales just fading from her cheeks.


    Kildare scrambled up and grabbed her hands. He pressed his lips to hers, frantic need for her touch nearly drowning out everything.


    ¡°You came after me,¡± he whispered. ¡°Thank Naran Ara, you came.¡±


    She flicked his chin. ¡°I told you I¡¯d never leave you. Why do you always doubt me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Serene slipped a hand through the bars and stroked his jawline. He winced as she traced bruises and cuts.


    ¡°Mock betrayed us,¡± he mumbled. ¡°She had another team. Alfarens. They knocked out Snitch and Fir and me, left us for the guards.¡±


    Her eyes flashed. ¡°The b¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, don¡¯t.¡± Kildare sighed. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong there. Why would Mock suddenly betray us? We¡¯ve been a team for five years.¡±


    ¡°Either way, she and Snitch better hope I don¡¯t find them before someone else does.¡±


    ¡°Snitch is out.¡±


    ¡°Snitch plotted with her!¡±


    ¡°Serene.¡± Kildare pressed his forehead to hers. ¡°Despite what they¡¯ve done, these are my friends. I¡¯m worried that this may be my fault. What if keeping secrets from my team dissolved our bonds so much that Mock and Snitch worried I¡¯d betrayed them? What if they did this out of fear?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they were never your friends, Kil.¡± She sighed. ¡°All you want to do is rescue people. Darling, you are altogether too softhearted for this business.¡±


    Heat flared in Kildare¡¯s chest. ¡°And that¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She quirked an eyebrow. ¡°But it does make my job of protecting you a lot harder.¡±


    He snorted a laugh and kissed her again. ¡°What should we do?¡±


    Serene moved her weight from one arm to the other. ¡°I heard your discussion in the alley. Did you get my wind message?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°Negotiate with Basalt. I¡¯ll look for Mock. Send me a voice when you finish, and we¡¯ll set up a place to meet. If you negotiate your way to freedom.¡±


    He smirked. ¡°You doubt me?¡±


    ¡°I doubt Basalt¡¯s integrity. If you¡¯re not free, I¡¯ll break you out, and I¡¯ll smash this entire building to bits to do it.¡±


    This woman and her ferocity. He loved every bit of it. Kildare reached through the bars and curled a lock of her fire-red hair gently around his fingers. ¡°Just be careful. Don¡¯t get caught.¡± He tugged on his collar. ¡°I don¡¯t want you in one of these.¡±


    Serene¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I wouldn¡¯t want to put you in that position.¡± She leaned in and kissed him quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon, my fire.¡±


    With several quick motions, she swung clear of the window and scrambled out of sight.


    Kildare tightened his hand on the window bars. It would be too long before they were united again.

 Chapter 17: Serene

    Serene swung around the corner of the house and pressed her forehead against the rough brick wall, closing her eyes.


    Kildare was in a slave collar.


    Bile bubbled in the back of her throat, and she breathed in through her nose, trying to calm herself. She wanted to scream. She¡¯d known it would hurt to see him a prisoner like that, but she hadn¡¯t been prepared for how deep the hurt would go.


    Hopefully, she had contained her panic enough that he hadn¡¯t seen it.


    Serene forced another slow breath through her nose, then started climbing down the wall. She stopped at the corner of the house and smoothed the silky fabric of her loose trousers, brushing away the fine grit of mortar that had rubbed into the folds. She dabbed at her face, making sure there were no tears, nothing that could be taken as a sign of weakness.


    Voices bounced off the stone walls of the square.


    Serene pressed her back against the wall, then glanced around the corner. Two men steered Fir toward a set of cages in one corner of the square. Fir was yelling and digging his heels into the cobblestones, despite his hands being chained and a gag over his mouth.


    One man suddenly made a fist and slapped Fir across the side of the head. Fir¡¯s head snapped to the side, and he staggered. The man took the opportunity to punch him again, and Fir went limp, nearly falling to the ground.


    ¡°Stupid Alfaren,¡± the man muttered, swinging open the door of one of the cages. ¡°If he¡¯d quit struggling, he¡¯d be fine.¡±


    ¡°Not bright, either one of the guests today,¡± the other commented. ¡°That drake wasn¡¯t any better.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d better be glad he already had a slave¡¯s collar, so we didn¡¯t have to try to collar him ourselves.¡±


    They dragged Fir into the cage, chained his arms above his head, and slammed the door behind them.


    Serene ducked back out of sight and sank down to her haunches, squeezing handfuls of her trousers in her hands. Her stomach rolled. He¡¯ll be all right. He will be. At least they didn¡¯t beat him up too much.


    The front door slammed shut.


    Serene stood and brushed her pants clean once more, then swung around the corner of the house. Fir was still unconscious.


    Serene rapped on the door.


    One of the men from the square swung it open, his jaw clenched. When he spotted her, his eyes widened. ¡°Milady thief. What¡ª¡±


    Serene pushed past him. The foyer was small, bare brick walls and a dirty cobbled floor, with no rugs or furniture beyond a few benches shoved along the walls. The door to the inner part of the house stood open, and without a word to the guard, Serene headed for it.


    Eras stepped into view, blocking the door. ¡°Ah, Serene. I should have known you would be the one causing the ruckus.¡±


    Serene stopped, folded her arms across her chest. ¡°I heard Basalt captured another thief.¡±


    Eras laughed and leaned against the doorjamb. ¡°Did you now? And where did you hear that, as we only brought him in an hour or so ago?¡±


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    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Serene jutted her chin. ¡°I want to know what¡¯s going on. Is he holding trials to replace me?¡±


    ¡°Dear, after all these years, you should know you¡¯re not high up enough in the food chain to demand answers like that.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll ask Basalt myself.¡± Serene stomped forward.


    Eras squared off in front of her. Serene paused a second, pulse racing. She could feel her neck and shoulders knotting, and a headache bloomed across the back of her head. Could she really take on Eras?


    I can try to take on anything for Kil. She lowered her shoulder and charged forward.


    Eras¡¯s arm wrapped around her shoulders. The taller woman buckled forward a little, gasping as Serene¡¯s shoulder rammed into her chest, but her grip remained strong. Serene grabbed Eras¡¯s shirt sleeves, struggling to drag her to the side. Her feet slid on the dry, dirt-slicked cobbles. Eras pushed her back, step by step.


    Serene reached forward and dug her thumb into the woman¡¯s thigh, pressing as hard as she could on a nerve. Eras sucked into a breath, and her leg buckled slightly.


    Serene twisted free of one hand and jerked forward.


    Big, armored hands closed around her arms, yanking her back from the door. Serene glanced up. The two guards from the square stared down at her, looking surprised, upset, even a bit angry.


    Of course they were. Eras¡¯s word was just as much law as Basalt¡¯s, and all the men she trained were fiercely loyal.


    Eras leaned against the wall, wincing as she massaged feeling back into her leg. ¡°I¡¯d forgotten I taught you that trick.¡± Her eyes glittered.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t right.¡± Serene tried to twist her arms free, but the guards weren¡¯t budging. ¡°Eras, if he¡¯s going to replace me, I have a right to kn¡ª¡±


    Eras slapped her.


    Serene staggered to the side. Despite the pain on her cheek, the rest of her felt like cold ice was spreading, from her core through her veins. Eras hadn¡¯t slapped her since she was a child and in training. She straightened, but kept her shoulders hunched and her gaze down.


    ¡°You¡¯ve overstepped, drake.¡± Eras¡¯s voice was a sibilant hiss.


    Serene nodded, biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Kildare needs me. Kil needs me. But if Eras beat her for overstepping, she wouldn¡¯t be any use to him. It had been years since she¡¯d feared that. She dropped her gaze. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m sorry, Eras. I¡¯m just worried¡ª¡±


    ¡°About your lover?¡±


    A thrum of fear washed over her skin. Serene frowned. ¡°You mean the man I met in Helryen? How could he¡ª¡±


    Eras slapped her again. ¡°Stop lying to me!¡± She grabbed Serene¡¯s wrist.


    Serene felt sick as she watched the woman use a corner of her cloak to wipe away the makeup covering her unity tattoo. Eras looked at her and smirked.


    ¡°Your precious little drake mate,¡± she said, spitting the words. ¡°How long did you think you could keep it secret from me, Serene? Is that how you planned to get away from us, by whoring yourself out to another drake so he¡¯d rescue you?¡±


    Serene clamped her jaw shut. Arguing and pleading wouldn¡¯t help. Eras wanted to gloat¡ªlet her gloat. Maybe once she got it out of her system, she¡¯d let Serene through to see Kildare. Maybe even Basalt. How many more years of service could she bargain for his freedom? What would¡ª


    She noticed Eras shaking her head.


    ¡°Gods, you really do think you love him,¡± Eras sneered. ¡°What a blighting waste. The last thing we need is for you to have some drake¡¯s get and be out of commission.¡±


    Serene swallowed.


    ¡°But, it does prove useful this once, I suppose.¡± Eras stepped closer to her. ¡°Your drake slekka was hired by Basalt to retrieve a valuable object. He miserably failed, but Basalt is forgiving.¡±


    Serene snorted.


    Eras gripped her chin. ¡°I¡¯d suggest you use your influence with this Kildare to ensure he takes the bargain. Or I will personally escort him onto the slave block myself.¡±


    Serene swallowed. ¡°You¡¯re overestimating the influence I have over him.¡±


    ¡°Am I?¡± Eras¡¯s gray eyes were hard as she stared at Serene. ¡°I think you both want to save each other. Better start cooperating if you want a chance together.¡±


    ¡°Free?¡± Serene hated that her voice cracked.


    Eras laughed. ¡°Basalt isn¡¯t that forgiving. You should know better than to ask.¡±


    Basalt would never release her from her contract. She felt frail, as if her skin was cracking, as if she was made of old pottery that was crumbling. Kil in a slave collar, forever lost to her...or forever bound to her side. At least then, she¡¯d be guaranteed that he could never leave.


    That would kill him just as surely as one of Eras¡¯s knives would.


    Serene nodded.


    ¡°Smart little drake, for once.¡± Eras jerked her head at the door. ¡°See her out.¡±

 chapter 18: Kildare

    The rattle of the padlock was the first warning Kildare had of company. He pulled the window shut as quietly as he could, then stepped away.


    The door swung open, and he stepped forward eagerly.


    ¡°Is he here? Can I talk to Basalt now?¡± he asked.


    It was one of his guards from before. The man motioned him forward, holding up loops of chain.


    Kildare groaned. ¡°Again?¡±


    ¡°Sorry mate.¡±


    He held out his arms, letting the guard wrap his wrists with the chains and lock them tight. Then he opened the grating and let Kildare out of the room. Kildare paused. The guard gripped Kildare¡¯s arm and guided him down the hallway.


    As they walked, Kildare strained to listen for any other sound, but all he could hear was the muffled wash of waves outside the house, and their own footsteps on the battered hardwood floor.


    The guard pushed open a door at the end of the hall and motioned Kildare inside.


    The room was brighter than his little cell, with large windows. An empty fireplace sat at one end between two large built-in bookcases, both of which were empty, with crumbling shelves.


    The room itself seemed dusty and not in much use, but two chairs sat in the middle with a small side table between them.


    Basalt sat in one, sorting through a plate of pastries. A tea pot sat to one side of the table, steam curling from the spout. The richly decorated tea service and tray, not to mention Basalt¡¯s fine clothes, seemed jarringly out of place against their rough settings.


    Basalt looked up and motioned him forward. ¡°Kildare. A pleasure to see you.¡±


    Kildare glanced over his shoulder. The guard just raised an eyebrow and nodded him forward.


    He took the seat across from Basalt, bowing his head respectfully. ¡°Sir.¡±


    Basalt slowly went about pouring two cups of tea. One, he placed in front of Kildare. The other, he placed in front of himself and carefully added cream, sugar, slices of bright yellow lemon. He picked through the pastries again, finally choosing a flaky braid with soft cheese.


    Kildare swallowed. Yesterday morning, eating apple turnovers with his team in front of the cafe, seemed so long ago.


    Basalt finally looked up at him, tapping his stubby fingers on the table. ¡°You know what I like about you?¡± he asked.


    ¡°What, sir?¡±


    ¡°So many of these thieves¡ª¡± Basalt waved his hand. ¡°Whether they¡¯re individuals or a team. They¡¯re just so cocky. They always have to have a smart reply. They think they know everything. But you¡ªyou know your place.¡±


    Kildare bit the inside of his lip as his neck grew warm. ¡°We have a reputation to uphold, sir.¡±


    Basalt threw his head back, laughing. ¡°Reputation? Don¡¯t give me that rot. Your team, your reputation, died last night when that rotted Alfaren woman left you for the city guard.¡±


    Kildare swallowed again. ¡°So why am I here?¡±


    ¡°Because the man who came up with the idea of getting the puzzle box out of that museum can surely come up with a way to retrieve it from one of his own teammates.¡± Basalt leaned forward. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right?¡±


    ¡°I would appreciate the chance to try, sir.¡±


    ¡°Chance? There¡¯s no chance here, shifter.¡±


    The hair on the back of Kildare¡¯s neck rose. He dug his fingers into his pant legs. ¡°Sir?¡±


    Basalt rolled his eyes and reached across the table, gripping Kildare¡¯s chin with one hand. With the other, he wiped along Kildare¡¯s cheek, then turned his palm up, showing him the thick smear of makeup on the base of his thumb.


    ¡°It makes no sense to pretend any longer.¡±


    Kildare lowered his gaze to the floor, shoulders tensing. Waiting.


    Basalt sighed. He grabbed the neck of Kildare¡¯s shirt and dragged him upright, then shoved him toward the large windows. Kildare stumbled, slammed into the windowsill with his hip.


    Basalt gripped his hair and forcefully turned his head.


    This side of the house sat right against one of the small dockside marketplaces. A small platform was in the middle of the market. Cages lined the edges of the marketplace, all empty save the one directly across from the window.


    Fir.


    The Alfaren¡¯s arms were shackled to the bars across the top of the cage, and he sat slouched forward as if he was asleep. Or unconscious.


    Kildare felt sick. He and Fir had narrowly escaped a market like that when they were kids. He dug his thumb into the chains around his wrist.


    Basalt¡¯s voice whispered close to his ear. ¡°I also know about Serene. Bold of you, to presume to take something that is mine.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Kildare muttered. ¡°I get it.¡±


    ¡°Do you, though? Do you understand what I will do to them if you fail me?¡± Basalt gripped the back of Kildare¡¯s collar and pulled it tight against his throat.


    Kildare choked and took a step back to relieve the pressure.


    ¡°This is the reality of your situation,¡± Basalt said quietly, stepping close to Kildare¡¯s side. ¡°Right now, Serene may be under my contract, but I¡¯ve let her live life as if she was free. I raised her, clothed her, fed her, and paid for her training. All she has to do is work for me occasionally. I did not step between you two¡ªI didn¡¯t mind if you became lovers.¡± He smirked. ¡°Although, again, if you thought you could steal her from me, you were mistaken. But...if you fail to retrieve that puzzle box from Mockingbird, I will collar her. I will see her, and you, and your Alfaren friend down there on the slave block.¡±


    ¡°Threats like that aren¡¯t necessary,¡± Kildare choked out.


    ¡°No, perhaps not.¡± Basalt shoved him hard, making Kildare¡¯s shoulder thud into the window. Then he let go and stepped away. ¡°But I want to make myself clear.¡±


    Kildare pressed his hand against the window, trying to push the mental images of Serene and Fir in slave collars out of his mind. He straightened.


    ¡°Do you know who Mock could be working for?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°Anyone who would want the puzzle box? Do you have any enemies that would want to make you upset?¡±


    Basalt tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed. Kildare kept his face calm, blank, desperately hoping that Basalt would just underestimate him. That he didn¡¯t know about the shifter ability to sense ley. That he wasn¡¯t about to hand some kind of ley-imbued box over to someone like Basalt.


    As long as he pretended that this was just about a puzzle box, a collector¡¯s item...as long as he could fool Basalt...then maybe, the Alfaren would make a mistake.


    Kildare held what he desperately hoped was an innocent look, trying not to fidget or give away his nervousness. The question was a risk, but whatever answer Basalt gave him might be useful.


    ¡°Of course I have enemies. But I wouldn¡¯t worry about that if I were you, shifter. As for who took the puzzle box ...¡° Basalt shook his head. ¡°I have no idea. But you¡¯re clever. I¡¯m sure you can figure it out.¡± Basalt tapped Kildare¡¯s cheek with one of his single-knuckled fingers. ¡°Just keep in mind what I said.¡±


    Kildare nodded. Basalt clapped his hands, and the guard opened the door, motioning Kildare forward. Kildare obeyed, mind spinning.


    There was the possibility that he could be lying. That he actually did know about the shifter ability to detect ley. But at the same time, it was a closely guarded secret, just like the wind messages.


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    He couldn¡¯t stay frozen in fear. He had to act, one way or another.


    But what if he guessed wrong...


    Kildare shoved the thought away.


    The guard led him through the hallways, one hand on his arm as usual, until they reached a small open foyer. Without a word, the guard unlocked the chain around Kildare¡¯s wrists. He tucked the chain into a pouch at his side, then held a slightly larger key out to him.


    ¡°Go free your friend,¡± he said. ¡°Your rooms at the Broken Chair are still available.¡±


    Kildare took the key cautiously. ¡°That¡¯s it? No watcher from Basalt¡¯s band going with us?¡±


    The man smiled. ¡°Basalt¡¯s men are everywhere. Rest assured, he¡¯ll be watching.¡±


    Kildare nodded. ¡°And Snitch?¡±


    The guard shrugged. ¡°He schemed against you. We were unsure if you would want contact with him again. But if you do, he¡¯s currently being held in a cell in the city prison, courtesy of Basalt¡¯s bribes. But only for tonight, you understand.¡±


    Kildare nodded again.


    The man opened the door.


    The ease of his leave-taking made Kildare want to hesitate. It couldn¡¯t be this easy, could it?


    He slunk toward the doorway, half expecting someone to stop him. But no one spoke, and as soon as he was on the doorstep, the door swung shut behind him.


    Kildare dashed across the market to the cage holding Fir. The lock only took a few seconds for him to push the key into and open, but despite the metallic rattle, Fir didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°Fir? Fir!¡± Kildare wrapped one arm around his friend and fumbled at the chains pinning Fir¡¯s arms above his head. He finally got the key into the lock and turned. With a click, the chains went slack. Kildare untangled Fir¡¯s wrists from the chains and dragged him out of the cage.


    He quickly examined Fir¡¯s face and arms. No visible bruises. Chafing on his wrists, but that was to be expected. Fir¡¯s skin looked a little darkened from being out in the sun without shade for most of the day, but Alfaren didn¡¯t burn like humans. He¡¯d be all right.


    Kildare knelt beside him and gently slapped Fir¡¯s cheek. ¡°Hey. Wake up! Fir!¡±


    Fir¡¯s eyes fluttered. He squinted, face scrunching in confusion, then suddenly bolted upright. He looked between Kildare and the cage, looking on the edge of panic.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right, we¡¯re fine.¡± Kildare gripped Fir¡¯s upper arms tightly and pulled him to his feet. He threw another glance up at the windows of the house and could almost imagine he saw a dark shadow standing in the room where he¡¯d met with Basalt. Watching.


    Kildare dropped the key on the ground and turned his back, gently guiding Fir away from the square. The Alfaren let himself be led, his arms drawn in close, almost hugging his torso. One look at him, and Kildare could tell Fir was fighting back the terror of being back in a slaver¡¯s cage, chained and helpless.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± he whispered. ¡°Just come this way. I¡¯m here. They¡¯re not going to take you away, Fir.¡±


    Once they were out of sight of the house, Kildare pulled Fir to the side of the street and glanced around, trying to get his bearings. They were still close to the docks, if the smell was any indication, but in a residential area. And not a nice one. Kildare eyed the houses¡ªthey all seemed to lean in over the street, blocking the sun. Thankfully there didn¡¯t seem to be anyone about just yet, but he wasn¡¯t eager to wait around.


    Fir gripped his wrist, and Kildare looked down, then at his friend¡¯s face. Fir had his eyes closed, and he took a deep breath, then opened his eyes. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re fine. Don¡¯t apologize.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just... Kil, I panicked. It was bad enough that they threw that bag over my head, but then after a while I didn¡¯t hear you ahead of me anymore I started asking questions, and then when we stopped and they pulled the hood off and I saw the cage...¡± Fir shuddered. ¡°I completely panicked. I think they hit me in the back of the head just to shut me up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I let us get into that position.¡±


    Fir shuddered again, then straightened. ¡°What¡¯s your side of the story?¡±


    Kildare glanced around again. A man was leaning against the corner of a house, picking at his fingernails. He put his arm around Fir¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Let¡¯s walk.¡±


    Fir casually glanced behind them as they walked, and Kildare felt his muscles tense. ¡°One of Basalt¡¯s?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not stick around to find out.¡±


    ¡°Blight, Kil. What did you guys talk about?¡±


    Kildare tugged on the collar around his neck. ¡°He wants us to get the puzzle box from Mock. If we don¡¯t, he threatened to make all of us slaves. Me, you, Serene...¡± He cleared his throat.


    Fir ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°Rot it all.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Do we want to retrieve Snitch first?¡±


    Kildare sighed. ¡°I think we¡¯ll need to. He was in league with Mock. Maybe he knows something. Probably not. But either way, I want to give him that chance.¡±


    Fir nodded. ¡°All right. Where to now?¡±


    ¡°The Broken Chair.¡± Kildare adjusted the collar of his shirt, hoping it hid the shifter stripes enough for him to walk through the streets. ¡°I¡¯ll send Serene a message and let her know to meet us there.¡±


    ¡°... Kil?¡± Fir said in a low voice.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. For being stupid. For getting myself into debt and needing money. I know that¡¯s one reason you went ahead even with the dead guard¡ªwe should¡¯ve run.


    ¡°Shut up. It¡¯s not your fault, and that wasn¡¯t the reason.¡±


    Fir blinked, looking surprised, then nodded, lips twisting into a frown.


    ¡°The six thousand?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Later.¡± Kildare suppressed another sigh. He was going to have to apologize for keeping his best friend in the dark about... well, a lot of things.


    But first, he had to reach Serene. Make sure she was all right.


    ***


    The bartender had the room key ready and waiting for them as soon as they stepped foot into the Broken Chair. He led them to a room tucked into the back of the inn¡ªnot the same rooms they¡¯d stayed in the night before. It was spacious, clean, and nicely furnished, with a small living space and two bedrooms, rather than the four bedrooms and larger living area of the other room.


    The only door out lead them straight past the kitchen and the bar, and the windows were too small for anyone other than wyverns to squeeze through. Kildare had to wonder how often Basalt utilized this room for his special guests. He accepted the key and closed the door after the bartender, then glanced around.


    ¡°Fir, can ley be used to make listening devices?¡± he asked, flicking a finger against an ornate golden vase set into a niche behind the door.


    The vase rang with the dull sound of brass. He smirked. The rooms may have looked nice, but they were really just dressed-up prison cells.


    Fir glanced around the room, folding his arms over his chest. ¡°Maybe? I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯m not a manipulator. Besides, who cares if Basalt overhears us? He knows what we¡¯re going to do.¡±


    Kildare shrugged. ¡°This is true.¡±


    ¡°He also knew about Serene. Somehow.¡±


    Kildare tried not to flinch at the accusatory undertone to Fir¡¯s words. He flopped onto the couch, not caring that his rumpled, dirty clothes would smear the damask upholstery.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he mumbled, leaning his head back, closing his eyes. He didn¡¯t want to see the look on Fir¡¯s face. ¡°I just... I was afraid of what you would all think. The questions. The accusations.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but you would¡¯ve won us over, eventually.¡±


    ¡°I just wanted to start small. Work you guys up to the idea, you know? But more and more time passed and I couldn¡¯t think of how to even start the process, and by that time I figured that enough time had passed that you guys would get mad at me.¡±


    ¡°Stars, Kil. We all knew you had a lover, anyway! And Snitch was already convinced it was Serene. I can¡¯t remember how many times he tried to get Mock and me to bet that she¡¯d seduced you with a sob story.¡±


    Kildare scratched at the back of his neck. His stomach squirmed. ¡°That¡¯s not how it started.¡±


    Fir snorted. ¡°That¡¯s always how it starts with you.¡± Then he reddened. ¡°I mean, not the whole seduction part, the sob story part.¡±


    Kildare laughed. ¡°All right, all right, so I¡¯m predictable. Got it.¡±


    Fir smiled wanly. ¡°So... yeah. You didn¡¯t have to keep it from us.¡±


    ¡°One of you could¡¯ve said something, you know.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Serene said. ¡°He¡¯s right. It was up to you.¡±


    Kildare sat up and swung around.


    She stood in the bedroom doorway, buttoning up a blouse over her dragonsbane top. ¡°So, I¡¯m not going to say I told you so. But¡ª¡± She pulled her hair from beneath the dark fabric and swept it back over one shoulder, and as she did so, Kildare glimpsed two splotchy, red marks on her cheek.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Kildare started up to his feet and took a couple of steps across the room.


    Serene pursed her lips. ¡°I tried to get you out. Eras didn¡¯t take kindly to it.¡±


    Kildare gently cradled his hand against her cheek.


    Serene stiffened for a moment, then pressed her cheek against his palm. ¡°I¡¯m not mad at you,¡± she breathed. ¡°Well, not completely, anyway. I¡¯m just worried.¡±


    ¡°You had a right to be,¡± Kildare murmured. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t listen to you.¡±


    Fir groaned. ¡°Yeah, you in love is as bad as I envisioned it.¡±


    Without moving his hand from Serene¡¯s face, Kildare reached over the back of the couch, picked up a throw pillow, and lobbed it across the room at his friend.


    Fir snickered as he ducked.


    Kildare rubbed his thumb against one of the red marks on Serene¡¯s face, then dropped his hand. His chest burned, smoldering in anger at the thought of someone striking her. He tamped it down and gestured between the two of them. ¡°Serene, meet Fir. Fir, Serene.¡±


    ¡°Good to finally meet an actual face, not just a threatening shadow,¡± Fir said, grinning to tone down the sting of his words.


    Serene grinned back. ¡°Pleasure. Nice to know that I have a chance to get to know you in person rather than lurking outside your window.¡±


    Fir laughed. ¡°Sharp.¡± He glanced over at Kildare. ¡°All right, I admit. You made a good choice.¡±


    Kildare glanced back and forth between them. So far, so good. ¡°So, we¡¯re all good?¡±


    ¡°For now,¡± Serene said. ¡°But no more secrets.¡±


    Fir hitched his thumb at her. ¡°I agree. So, what¡¯s our plan going forward?¡±


    ¡°We steal the puzzle box back from Mock and whoever hired her,¡± Kildare said. He glanced at Serene and saw her nod in agreement.


    Fir frowned. ¡°Seriously? We¡¯re not going to run?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t run.¡± Serene¡¯s voice was quiet. ¡°Not from Basalt. Not from Eras. She could track us down.¡±


    ¡°She can¡¯t be that good.¡±


    ¡°She is,¡± Serene said forcefully.


    Fir¡¯s frown deepened, but he stopped pushing her.


    ¡°I think a question that we need to decide on first is, do we want Snitch back?¡± Kildare said.


    He¡¯d half-expected Serene to look annoyed at the suggestion, but instead, her eyes turned thoughtful. He looked over at Fir and saw him nodding.


    ¡°He¡¯s useful,¡± Serene said. ¡°I think we should rescue him.¡±


    ¡°Well, that went quicker than I expected it to.¡± Kildare started to stand.


    Serene pressed her hand on his shoulder and stood herself. ¡°Stay here. Fir and I can case the prison and see what we find.¡±


    Kildare frowned. ¡°Are you sure? I can¡ª¡±


    Fir shook his head. ¡°Not with that collar.¡±


    Kildare put his hand on the collar and grimaced. Of course. If he went out like this, he¡¯d instantly be identifiable as a shifter slave, even if he wore makeup to cover his stripes, and a scarf or coat bulky enough to hide it would look suspicious in the day¡¯s heat. ¡°Can¡¯t you just pick the lock on it?¡±


    Fir waggled his hands. ¡°They confiscated my picks. I¡¯ll try to pick some up somewhere while we¡¯re out.¡±


    Kildare groaned. ¡°I hate not feeling useful.¡±


    ¡°Use this time to think of what you will say to Mock,¡± Fir suggested.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.¡± Serene smiled. ¡°Got to keep your mind busy, at least.¡±


    Kildare rolled his eyes and flapped his hand at them. ¡°I¡¯ll just order room service and enjoy myself while you guys are gone.¡±


    Serene chuckled and squeezed his shoulder gently. It was a reassuring pressure, one that flooded Kildare¡¯s chest with warmth. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm before letting her go.


    ¡°Be careful,¡± he whispered.


    Serene leaned down and pecked him on the cheek. ¡°Of course, darling.¡±

 Chapter 19: Fir

    Fir watched Serene out of the corner of his eye as they walked down the street. She walked quickly, with her head held high, eyes steadily on the road in front of her¡ªmaybe a little too steadily.


    ¡°Nervous?¡± she suddenly asked.


    Fir glanced at her. ¡°How do you know?¡±


    She nodded to his hands, to the coin he¡¯d been, almost unconsciously, walking across his knuckles.


    Fir snorted and tucked the coin back into his pocket. ¡°So you know our tells. That¡¯s fantastic. How long did you spy on us before you talked to Kil?¡±


    Serene sighed. ¡°Look, I can understand you¡¯re probably angry, despite what you said back in our rooms, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°I thought you could read me.¡± Fir grinned.


    Serene squinted at him, her lips pursed. ¡°I mostly spied on you before a job, or during a job. I know what it looks like when you¡¯re nervous, or excited, or focused, but I¡¯m not sure what it looks like when you¡¯re upset.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯m not mad, by the way. Not really. I¡¯m not saying it was right for Kil to keep your marriage a secret, but I can understand it. It¡¯s not like I didn¡¯t have my own secrets to keep from him until recently.¡± Fir stuffed his hands in the pockets of his vest, considering how to voice all the emotion tumbling inside of him. ¡°What¡¯s bothering me right now is how you¡¯re pushing to get the puzzle box back. And Kil¡¯s going right along with the idea.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re wondering if this is how it¡¯s always going to go¡ªthat I¡¯ll constantly drag Kil into trouble.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± he grumbled.


    Serene stopped on the side of the street and turned to face him. ¡°You can ask Kil yourself. This... relationship it wasn¡¯t my idea. Basalt sent me to spy on the crew, to see how good you were, to take advantage of your set-ups and steal things from under your noses.¡±


    Fir nodded. ¡°The first few jobs, you didn¡¯t let us know of your presence. You just took stuff.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She resumed walking, her feet kicking up the dust along the cobbled walks. ¡°But then I started watching each of you individually.¡±


    Fir¡¯s stomach sank. ¡°So you noticed my gambling habit before anyone else?¡±


    ¡°I noticed you went to games more often than anyone seemed to notice.¡± Serene shrugged. ¡°When I came to Kil, I was...puzzled. He kept some of the money he earned, but the rest of it, he gave away. To the poor, to orphans and widows. He bought pastries for an entire orphanage once.¡±


    Fir chuckled. ¡°I remember that.¡±


    ¡°I started realizing that he was doing it out of pure kindness. And I wondered...would that kindness extend to me? So I started letting you catch glimpses of me. But I was still afraid that Basalt¡¯s people were watching me¡ªit was only around that time that he started letting me travel on my own. Before then, Eras had always gone with me. And I was afraid that she still hung around, secretly watching me.¡±


    ¡°Why are you so afraid of her?¡±


    Serene ran her hand through her hair, tucking the bright red strands behind her ears. She ran the tasseled end of the blue silk scarf around her neck through her fingers before replying. ¡°They call her the Bloodhound. She can track anyone, anywhere. No one has ever escaped her. And it¡¯s not just stories. I¡¯ve watched her.¡± She laughed, a sound that was a bit choked. ¡°Back to the letters. I left hidden messages on them in disappearing ink, begging Kil to help me. And it finally paid off. Only instead of just meeting me on the roof of your inn like I¡¯d asked, he attacked me. And when he finally revealed my face, shouting at me and demanding to know what tricks I was up to...I just started crying. I was so terrified that I¡¯d miscalculated, that he would just kill me. But he didn¡¯t. And then our relationship turned into something more. And then he asked me to marry him. I told him it was a bad idea. I told him that I was under contract to a crime lord who would probably kill him if he ever discovered our relationship. But it didn¡¯t bother him. All he said was that he¡¯d been saving up to buy my contract ever since I¡¯d first told him my story. Since before he even fell in love with me.¡±


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    Fir watched her face during the entire recital, wondering if she was lying. But Serene¡¯s tone held steady, and she didn¡¯t flutter her hands around nervously, or search around the area as if looking for inspiration. And everything she said¡ªit sounded exactly like Kil. ¡°All right,¡± he said slowly. ¡°But why¡ª¡±


    Serene held her hand up. ¡°Look ahead,¡± she murmured.


    Fir turned his head. Ahead of them, about a block away, stood a solid, square stone building with Do¡¯orite words carved above the door. A small wooden plaque affixed to the side of the door had smaller, Leremite letters on it.


    ¡°Rohondeish Watch and Prison,¡± Serene said. ¡°This is where Snitch will be. Over here.¡±


    She led him to the corner, where they both crouched in the shade of a tree and leaned back against the stone wall of the building beside them, as if just taking a break from the sun. No shops had doors facing toward the prison¡ªthey all were to the side, or on the other side of the buildings.


    Serene kept her eyes on the prison as she began to speak again in a low voice. ¡°Why we¡¯re going after Mock? Is that what you were going to ask?¡±


    Fir nodded.


    Two men in light leather armor, both carrying spears, rounded the side of the prison building. They paused at the front corner, eyes on the two in the shade.


    Serene lifted a hand and waved, then leaned her head back against the brick wall and closed her eyes.


    Fir dropped his eyes to the ground.


    After a moment of silence, he heard the tramp of light boots on pavement. The two guards moved on, continuing their circuit around the building.


    ¡°I was told that the only way to keep Kildare out of a permanent slave collar was to ¡®persuade¡¯ him to retrieve the puzzle box,¡± Serene said simply. ¡°And given Kil¡¯s caring nature, I suspect he was threatened with our safety as well. This is Basalt¡¯s back-up plan¡ªthis is why he chose your crew. He knew that if you failed on the first attempt, then he would have leverage on Kildare to persuade him to continue the job.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s too softhearted sometimes,¡± Fir said.


    Serene smiled. ¡°I agree. But without him, we wouldn¡¯t be anywhere, would we?¡±


    It was true. Without Kil, Fir would¡¯ve grown up to be a part of a gang in one of the Leremite towns. Or dead¡ªfrom starvation, or exposure, or a knife in the back because someone wanted what meager belongings he¡¯d had. Kil had been the one to get them out, to start the idea of a team who could pull off more than what one thief individually could do.


    Serene was silent, and they watched the guards make two more circuits.


    ¡°What¡¯s your suggestion for getting Snitch out?¡± Fir whispered. ¡°You have any experience with this prison?¡±


    Serene snorted. ¡°No. For your information, I¡¯ve never been in a jail cell.¡±


    ¡°Seriously? Even when you were first starting out?¡±


    She shook her head.


    ¡°Kil and I spent a month in prison near the border of Ermen,¡± Fir said. ¡°It happens to everyone. I can¡¯t believe you¡¯ve never been in prison.¡±


    ¡°Like I told you earlier, Eras always tailed me, until a year or so ago. If I got caught, she stepped in.¡± Serene pressed her lips together and didn¡¯t say anything else.


    Fir understood the unspoken implication¡ªthat Eras had made Serene wish she¡¯d been in prison instead of being bailed out. He rubbed his hand on his left arm, feeling the unusually smooth scar tissue. The first and only time he¡¯d ever gotten a beating, he¡¯d tried to defend himself. The whip mark on his arm was the only one that had scarred.


    ¡°Fir, you¡¯re a manipulator, right?¡± Serene asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the type of ley you manipulate?¡±


    ¡°Plants. I can strengthen them, make them grow quickly¡ª¡±


    ¡°Like that?¡± Serene pointed to the side of the building. ¡°Near the back.¡±


    Fir leaned forward. There, growing by one of the window wells sunken into the ground, he could see green and white vines curling up the side of the building. Ivy of some kind. Fir grinned. ¡°That should work. You stay here.¡±


    Serene nodded.


    As soon as the guards turned the corner, he dashed quietly across the square and dropped down into the window well.


    Ivy crawled along the side of the building and the cobblestones next to it, draping over the side of the window well. Fir lifted the vines free of the side of the well and draped them over his head. At least this way, he would have a little bit of cover. As long as the guards didn¡¯t look too hard.


    Fir ran his fingers along the casing of the barred window. It was wooden, and he could see where a few of the vine tendrils had latched onto the wood, beginning to dig their way in. Fir cupped one hand around the tendrils and, with his other hand, began feeling for the invisible, slick lines of ley. He found it and pulled it toward the vine, feeding it into them.


    The leaves trembled, tickling the palm of his hand.


    Fir opened his eyes and watched as the vines thickened a little, their roots burrowing a little deeper into the window casing.


    Hope we can afford to wait, he thought. This is going to take a while.

 Chapter 20: Kildare

    Kildare paced back and forth in the room, struggling to keep his fear and panic from rising to the top of his mind.


    How long had it been? Two hours? Three? Proper casing jobs could take multiple days. Why was he so nervous?


    He tugged at the collar. The stakes had never been so high. How foolish they¡¯d all been, riding high on their successes. How foolish he¡¯d been to not take better care of his team.


    Mockingbird.


    It hurt him to the core to know that she, whom he had once considered a sister, had betrayed him in that manner. It hurt so terribly much.


    Why had she done it? Surely it couldn¡¯t have been merely preemptive, like Snitch had claimed. Maybe Snitch would clarify, provided he actually agreed to cooperate with them.


    What would they need to free him? Kildare tried to start making a mental list. All of their supplies had been taken once they¡¯d been captured. Granted, he wouldn¡¯t specifically know what they needed until Serene and Fir got back, but there were always basics it was good to have.


    Money. He slumped on the couch. Who would provide the funds for their equipment? Maybe Basalt? He should¡¯ve thought to ask.


    He got up and started rummaging through the room, trying to find sheets of paper and a pen. He finally found some in the desk¡¯s only drawer and sat down, quickly scribbling out a note to Basalt, then starting a list of equipment they¡¯d need. Writing everything out was the only way he was going to focus on anything for long.


    He was about halfway through the list when a knock sounded on the door. Kildare jumped, nearly falling from his chair. He crossed the room and cracked the door to see Serene, her hand pressed against the wooden surface. As he opened the door further, he could see that Fir stood at the end of the hallway, watching the lower floor of the tavern over the balcony railing.


    ¡°Fir,¡± Serene said softly as she stepped into the room.


    Fir turned and followed her. Once Kildare closed the door behind them, Fir sighed and handed a dagger back to Serene.


    ¡°Was there trouble?¡± Kildare asked, taking in their worried faces and tense body posture.


    Fir shrugged. ¡°Not as much as there could have been, I guess. A couple of city guard started getting a bit too curious about us right before we left the area of the prison.¡±


    Serene put her hand on Kildare¡¯s arm. ¡°It¡¯s all right. They followed us for a bit, but we lost sight of them about five minutes from here. We were just being extra careful.¡±


    Kildare glanced between the two of them. Was it his imagination, or did Fir and Serene act more at ease with each other now?


    ¡°Before we forget¡ª¡± Fir held up a rolled leather pouch. ¡°Serene showed me where to go. Want me to try to pick that lock?¡±


    Kildare nodded. He moved around the couch and sat down in front of it on the floor.


    ¡°Do you think you¡¯ll be able to get it off?¡± Serene asked.


    Fir flopped onto the couch behind Kildare and folded his legs. ¡°I dunno. I¡¯ve heard that they¡¯re pretty much impossible to pick, but...¡± He wiggled his fingers. ¡°Alfaren limbs are more flexible than humans, so sometimes lock-picking is easier for us.¡± He pushed gently on the back of Kildare¡¯s head.


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    Kildare bent his neck forward, hunching his shoulders and resting his arms on his knees, to allow Fir a better view of the lock. ¡°So, what¡¯d you guys find at the prison?¡±


    Serene sat on the rug in front of him and grinned. ¡°It¡¯s about two stories tall, but there were some windows set at ground level, so we¡¯re pretty sure the cells are underground. It¡¯s built of solid bedrock, a ways from the harbor, so it makes sense. And they made a critical error¡ªthere¡¯s ivy growing all over the building.¡±


    Kildare grinned back. ¡°So, Fir, it should be pretty easy for you to work your magic there and break into the building, yeah?¡±


    ¡°I already started a bit.¡± Fir made a humming noise.


    Kildare heard a scraping sound. The collar jerked a little on his neck.


    Fir continued, ¡°I found a tendril growing close to a cell window, and the cell looked unused, so I started encouraging it to dig its roots into the stone around the window. By tonight, it should have made decent progress. The unfortunate thing is that there are torches and lanterns all over the outside of the building, and lamp posts every five feet on the entire street. It¡¯s not going to be easy to get to that window and spend enough time there to break through with the vine.¡±


    ¡°Is the damage evident?¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t be able to tell anything¡¯s going on at this rate,¡± Fir said. ¡°All right, hold still.¡±


    ¡°Can we wait a day or two, let the vine do its work without you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d take a good week for the vine to break through all on its own,¡± Fir said. ¡°And it¡¯ll be evident within a couple of days, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Serene cut in, ¡°we need to move quickly, before whoever Mock is working for moves.¡±


    Kildare sighed and shifted his weight a little.


    ¡°No, no, I said sit still!¡± Fir said sharply.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry.¡±


    ¡°Blighted lock. I¡¯ve got three picks in here already and I need a fourth. Serene, could you¡ª¡±


    ¡°On it.¡± Serene walked to the couch. ¡°This one?¡±


    ¡°Yes, put it right there... Thanks. All right, now hold onto it.¡± Fir tapped the side of Kildare¡¯s head. ¡°I mean it this time, hold really still.¡±


    ¡°You got it, boss.¡±


    Fir snorted.


    Kildare cringed as the sound of the picks scraping and scratching at the inside of the lock filled the room. Something clicked, and then there was a quiet ka-chunk. Fir swore in Alfaren.


    ¡°What?¡± Serene asked.


    ¡°The tumblers slipped. Hang on, let me try again.¡± The scraping started again.


    ¡°All right, so we need to move quickly,¡± Kildare said, more to drown out the sound of the scraping picks. ¡°Depending on when Basalt can get us some equipment¡ª¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Fir said.


    Serene glanced at the desk. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s what those lists are for.¡±


    Kildare started to nod and stopped himself. He tensed. His back was already starting to ache from the uncomfortable position. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, guys. I should¡¯ve negotiated that with him at first. Hopefully we can get some basics before¡ª¡±


    Serene shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be beholden to Basalt any more than we already are. We¡¯ll use my savings.¡±


    ¡°You mean the money to break your contract,¡± Kildare said. ¡°No.¡±


    Her eyes flashed. ¡°What possible good would it do for us to be even further in debt to Basalt?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t do the job without it,¡± Kildare protested. ¡°I¡¯m surprised he never brought it up, or had stuff waiting for us.¡±


    ¡°Even if he had, I wouldn¡¯t accept it. A man like that will squeeze every drop of life from you before letting you go. He may very well think we need to pay him back for it.¡± Serene shook her head again. ¡°We¡¯ll use the contract money.¡±


    Kildare swallowed down a lump in his throat. Her words made sense¡ªto much sense¡ªbut he hated the idea of her using their hard-earned savings to replenish lost equipment. He clenched his fists into the rug.


    Serene¡¯s hands touched the sides of his face. ¡°I know, my love. But this is more important than my contract. I still have plenty of freedom. We¡¯ll figure out another way.¡±


    Kildare frowned. ¡°Fir? What do you think?¡±


    The Alfaren nodded. ¡°She makes sense.¡±


    Kildare snorted. ¡°Little did I figure that within hours of introducing my best friend and my wife, they¡¯d be conspiring against me.¡±


    Fir grinned. ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon. The mighty Kildare, with his powers of foresight, didn¡¯t prophesy this?¡±


    ¡°I will hit you with another pillow, Fir.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t, those things hurt.¡±


    Something snapped in the lock.


    ¡°Ow!¡±


    Kildare spun around.


    Fir sucked on the side of his index finger. ¡°The pick broke.¡±


    Kildare sighed. ¡°So that¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°I can try later, maybe, but...¡± Fir shrugged. ¡°The lock is twisted, and the tumblers are set on all sides like a spiral. I think it would take more picks than I could fit into the keyhole to pick this lock. Sorry, Kil.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s all right.¡± Kildare tugged at the collar. Still as tight and unyielding as ever. ¡°I¡¯ll just deal with it.¡±


    Fir jammed the lock picks back into the leather casing. ¡°So I guess we¡¯ll finish up the list, and I¡¯ll go buy some equipment. Tonight, then?¡±


    Kildare nodded. ¡°Tonight, we¡¯ll free Snitch. We¡¯ll see what tomorrow brings, and then we¡¯ll go after Mock.¡±

 Chapter 21: Kildare

    Kildare stood at the corner of the street in what little shadow he could find, clutching the dark-glassed, empty liquor bottle in one hand. With the other, he double-checked the knife hidden in a holster under his arm, then tugged at the coat collar that hid the metal choker around his neck. With any luck, he¡¯d just look like a drunk sailor who had wandered too far from the port.


    He looked down at the street and closed his eyes. He hated this part. This was why he¡¯d had Snitch and Mock. They both excelled at being the distraction part of the plan. But they weren¡¯t here. Fir couldn¡¯t do it, because he had to encourage that stupid vine into breaking through the window casing for them. And even though Serene had volunteered, he couldn¡¯t let her do something like this. Couldn¡¯t let her take the risk that it was.


    She¡¯d argued. In the end he¡¯d begged her to just let him be protective for once, since so far it seemed like she¡¯d been doing all the protecting. She¡¯d backed down, rather graciously. Thankfully Fir had chosen that moment to make himself scarce.


    The city guards appeared around the far corner of the building on their patrol.


    Kildare desperately prayed that this wouldn¡¯t be the last time he and Serene could be together. He let that fear push him forward, push him out into the brightly lit main street. He¡¯d have to act better than he ever had before if he wanted to spend any more nights with Serene.


    He let his limbs go loose and relaxed, stumbling down the middle of the cobbled street. Very deliberately, Kildare forced himself to not look at the city guardsmen. After a moment, he tipped the bottle up to his mouth, then grunted and shook it. He sighed and stumbled a few more steps, then began half-muttering, half-singing an off-key sailor¡¯s shanty. He kept stumbling closer to the prison, kept raising his voice until he was almost bellowing the shanty.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    He ignored the guards and spun, putting his back to them and swinging his arms to the rhythm of the song. Kildare felt his neck burning¡ªhe hated this so much¡ªbut he kept going until the guard¡¯s voice sounded again, louder and closer.


    ¡°Sir!¡±


    Kildare let his heel catch on a cobble, and he stumbled. A hand caught his arm, just barely keeping him upright. Kildare swung around, squinting.


    The two guards had stepped into the street. One still held his spear, looking around in suspicion at the street. The other had dropped his spear into the crook of his arm in order to catch Kildare.


    ¡°My thanks,¡± Kildare grunted, straightening. He stood upright and adjusted his coat, now holding himself too stiff, as if over-compensating for being drunk.


    The guard looked him over, eyes catching on the worn sailor¡¯s coat. ¡°You¡¯re a long way from the docks, friend,¡± he said.


    Kildare blinked and looked around. ¡°Say where? How did I¡ª¡±


    The other guard bent down, retrieving the bottle, and sniffed it. His face crinkled in disgust. ¡°Ughh. How is he still walking? He¡¯s had an entire bottle of kvass.¡±


    ¡°I know how to hold m¡¯self, thank you very much,¡± Kildare growled.


    ¡°Clearly you don¡¯t,¡± the first guard said. He gave Kildare¡¯s arm a shove. ¡°Get back to the docks before you¡¯re reported to your captain as a deserter.¡±


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    ¡°Ain¡¯t military.¡± Kildare¡¯s mind swirled as the two men rolled their eyes and turned back toward the building. It hadn¡¯t been long enough, not nearly. Fir had told him it would probably take ten minutes at the very least. He had to hold them off.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he growled. ¡°Hey, gimme back m¡¯ bottle.¡±


    The guard holding the kvass bottle turned, holding it up. ¡°I¡¯ll dispose of it for you. Can¡¯t have you dropping it again¡ªnext time it might break, and then someone¡¯ll cut their foot on it. Can¡¯t have that.¡±


    Kildare¡¯s heart lurched in his chest. ¡°It¡¯s good glass. I know a guy who¡¯ll pay me f¡¯r it. Gimme that.¡± He lunged.


    The first guard stuck out the butt of his spear, planting it on the cobbles in front of Kildare¡¯s foot.


    On instinct, Kildare dodged to the side, avoiding the spear. Quick as he¡¯d been, the guard was quicker, and he grabbed a fistful of Kildare¡¯s coat, yanking him to a stop.


    ¡°You seem a little nimble there for a drunk man, my friend,¡± the guard growled.


    Kildare¡¯s blood froze. He tried to wrench free, but the man¡¯s grip was firm. He twisted, trying to pull his arms from the jacket sleeves, but the second guard caught his other arm, digging his fingers into the nerve just below Kildare¡¯s bicep. He gasped, his knees slightly buckling with the pain.


    The first guard muttered under his breath and grabbed the coat collar, pulling it to the side. He grinned and flicked the metal ring. ¡°Runaway shifter, hey?¡±


    Kildare gritted his teeth. Stupid. He¡¯d been so incredibly stupid.


    ¡°Why would a runaway come past here acting drunk?¡± the second guard asked. ¡°What kind of idiot would draw attention to himself?¡±


    ¡°Maybe he was just thinking to pass us by, that we wouldn¡¯t look twice at a drunk sailor.¡± The first guard shook Kildare. ¡°Eh?¡±


    Kildare tried to pull away again. ¡°I¡¯m not a runaway.¡±


    ¡°Sure you¡¯re not.¡±


    ¡°Look, you can ask my master, Basalt. I¡¯m not trying to run away.¡±


    The guards paused, eyeing each other. Slowly, the first said, ¡°You¡¯re one of Basalt¡¯s slaves?¡±


    Kildare nodded frantically.


    The two guards exchanged a glance.


    ¡°What should we do with him?¡± the younger one muttered, his grip tightening on Kildare¡¯s arm. ¡°If he¡¯s one of Basalt¡¯s...¡±


    ¡°He could be lying.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to meddle in Basalt¡¯s business.¡± The younger one released Kildare¡¯s arm and stepped back. ¡°If you want to imprison him, that¡¯s your business, but I¡¯m not going to have anything to do with it.¡±


    Panic flared in Kildare¡¯s chest. If he stayed outside, the guard might resume his patrol. Fir and Serene... He jerked back, kicking at the older guard¡¯s knee as hard as he could. The man yelped and staggered. Kildare flailed, trying to make it look as if he was trying to pull free. The younger guard shouted and sprang back to his side. One hand grabbed his arm. The other squeezed the back of Kildare¡¯s neck, making him wince.


    As the older guard got to his feet, Kildare let them drag him up the prison steps. They slammed the door open. The interior of the prison was cold and uninviting, with a few lanterns hanging from the stone walls. A few desks were scattered around the large, open space, with offices on either side and a staircase and several doors at the back. They marched him past the desks and to the door beside the staircase. It was barred from this side and locked with two large padlocks.


    Kildare felt sweat gathering on his forehead and back. Fir, you guys better get in here quickly...


    The door opened onto a set of stairs leading down. The older guard grabbed a lantern from the wall and headed down, while the younger pushed Kildare after him, his hand still squeezing Kildare¡¯s neck tight.


    At the bottom of the stairs, another door opened in a dark room broken into open, barred cells. Beside the lantern, the only light in the room came from two small windows. Kildare caught a flicker of movement from the window on the left and froze. Please don¡¯t let them see that. He tried to reach out, to send a message to Serene, but there was no breeze down here for him to use.


    The guard shoved him forward, through a cell door. Kildare staggered, heard the cell clang shut behind him. He turned. ¡°You¡¯re making a mistake!¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, Basalt¡ª¡±


    ¡°If Basalt¡¯s your master, then he¡¯ll send someone to fetch you in the morning,¡± the older guard snapped.


    ¡°The morning! I can¡¯t wait until the morning. Do you know what he¡¯ll do to me if¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s none of my business.¡± The guards left, enclosing the room in darkness once again.


    Kildare slumped against the stone wall of the back of his cell and ran his fingers through his hair.


    A low, familiar chuckle came from the cell on his right.


    Kildare groaned. ¡°Hi, Snitch.¡±

 chapter 22: Kildare

    Kildare shuffled his feet. He could smell rotting straw, although his cell seemed to be fairly clean. He glanced over at Snitch. The window was in the cell beyond Snitch, so that all he could see of his friend was a vague outline.


    The thief slunk forward, leaning on the bars dividing their cells. Kildare stayed still, eyeing Snitch and trying to get a read off what little of the thief¡¯s face he could see.


    ¡°Still got the collar, I see.¡± Snitch¡¯s voice was full of bitterness. ¡°Where were you? I¡¯ve been sitting in this cell for two days and you just now show up? Were you put in another prison somewhere?¡±


    Kildare shook his head."Taoh hijacked the cart Fir and I were in."


    Snitch snorted. ¡°Figures. Meanwhile, you left me here to rot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here now, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Why? I figured you wouldn¡¯t bother.¡±


    Kildare edged closer cautiously, watching Snitch¡¯s hands. The thief could have managed to hide or fashion a weapon in two days¡ªSnitch was resourceful. The last thing he wanted was to get within close range.


    ¡°Basalt still wants the puzzle box, so we¡¯re going after Mock.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± It sounded like Snitch was genuinely surprised. ¡°I never expected you to turn on someone from your own team.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s...it¡¯s complicated.¡±


    Snitch stared at him for a moment, then a smirk curled one side of his mouth. ¡°Oh. Of course. The shifter whore. Basalt threatened her, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    Kildare clenched his fists. ¡°That¡¯s my wife you¡¯re talking about. Show some respect.¡±


    ¡°Like you showed us when you hid your bonding from us? Why should I bother?¡±


    ¡°Because that shifter whore currently has a knife aimed at your back,¡± Serene¡¯s voice came from behind them.


    Kildare straightened. Fir stood at the small window in the cell beyond Snitch, gently pressing the frame back into place. Serene stood next to the bars, a tiny throwing dagger between her fingers, her arm cocked back and ready to throw.


    ¡°L-look.¡± Snitch turned to fully face her, and Kildare caught a glimmer of something metallic in his hand. ¡°You get it, right?¡±


    ¡°Whether I understand your anger or not, you¡¯re not going to harangue my husband in that manner,¡± Serene replied coldly. ¡°If you want out of here, I¡¯d suggest you watch your words.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Snitch gestured to the door of his cell. ¡°Then let¡¯s get moving.¡±


    Serene pushed open the door to their cell, but instead of freeing Snitch, she came to Kildare¡¯s cell first. It was the work of seconds for her to pop open the lock. As he stepped out, Kildare reached out and gently squeezed her hand.


    ¡°I take it that everything went smoothly?¡±


    She glanced up, brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead and studied the bruise on his temple. ¡°Thanks to you, you big idiot.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I trusted you two to not abandon me.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re adorable, now get me out,¡± Snitch snapped.


    Serene rolled her eyes and walked over to his cell.


    Kildare joined Fir at the window. The Alfaren still stood holding the window in place, the faint light from outside shining on his tense face.


    Kildare placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Did it go all right?¡±


    Fir nodded. His eyes looked tired, and looking closer, Kildare realized that Fir¡¯s hands trembled.


    ¡°Had to push it quickly,¡± Fir murmured. ¡°I¡¯ll be all right, but hopefully we can do without ley for a while.¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡± Kildare turned as hinges creaked, watching Snitch exit his cell. Serene walked behind him, her hand disappearing into the folds of her cloak¡ªreplacing, he knew, her lock picks, and probably putting her hands on her daggers.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Kildare put a hand on Snitch¡¯s chest before he got too close to Fir and the window. ¡°You listen to me,¡± Kildare said, narrowing his eyes. ¡°I know you¡¯re mad at me, Snitch, and I¡¯m sorry that I kept secrets from the team. But we¡¯re going after Mock, and I swear if you try to betray us again and side with her¡ª¡±


    Snitch lifted the corner of his lip in a sneer. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m done with that whore.¡±


    ¡°You need to find a different word for the women around you, friend,¡± Serene said softly from behind him.


    Snitch¡¯s shoulders hunched slightly, and he took a half-step sideways, turning so he could see Serene out of the corner of his eyes. Kildare tried not to chuckle. At least it was obvious who Snitch was afraid of, and he knew by Serene¡¯s little half-smile that she wouldn¡¯t be afraid to leverage that against the thief.


    It also hurt a little, watching Snitch fold into himself a little, shoulders slumping. Kildare found himself wishing he¡¯d done things differently. He should¡¯ve told his team about Serene sooner. Maybe this would¡¯ve changed how things had turned out.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been watching and timing them,¡± Fir said softly. ¡°After they tossed you in here, they started doing a quicker circuit, so it¡¯s only taking them about two minutes to walk around the building. We¡¯ll have to go one at a time and be quick about it, all right?¡±


    Kildare nodded. He reached back past Snitch and put his hand on Serene¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You first,¡± he whispered.


    Snitch snorted.


    Kildare turned and stepped up, poking the pickpocket¡¯s chest hard with one finger. ¡°Are you going to have an issue now every time I tell you to do something? We could¡¯ve left you to rot here, Snitch.¡±


    Serene rested her elbow on Kildare¡¯s arm, glaring at Snitch. ¡°Like it or not, he¡¯s still the leader,¡± she hissed.


    Snitch held his hands up. ¡°But why her?¡± he demanded.


    ¡°Because,¡± Kildare said quickly, before Serene could make another threat. ¡°Fir has to go last because he has to close the window back up. I¡¯m not going to leave everyone in here, and I don¡¯t trust you to not take off if I let you go first.¡±


    Snitch shot him a pained look. ¡°You know, at one point, Kildare, you trusted me.¡±


    ¡°And Aspects willing, I¡¯ll trust you again,¡± he said. ¡°Are we good?¡±


    Snitch nodded.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, they just came around again, we gotta move.¡± Fir relaxed his grip on the wooden window frame, lifting it from the hole where it had been set. As he lifted it, Kildare could see that the edges were rotten and eaten away, with strands of vines still clinging to them from the plant that had wrapped itself all around the little alcove outside the window.


    Serene scrambled up into the alcove, took a quick look around, then dashed away. They waited in tense silence as the guards came around again. Snitch folded his long body through the window, then disappeared from view. Kildare clenched his hands, listening intently for a yell, the sound of fighting... but all he heard were the clomping of the guards¡¯ armored boots on the cobblestones. He prayed that Serene could handle Snitch if the pickpocket got out of hand.


    Fir turned and looked at him. ¡°You have to go next,¡± he whispered.


    ¡°No. I¡¯ll get the window back into place. You go next.¡±


    Fir shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s no way the frame will support the window any more unless I use the vines to hold it in place, and you can¡¯t do that.¡± He nodded at the window. ¡°Go. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Kildare¡¯s chest tightened in protest, but he squirmed his way through the window and up out of the window well. The light of the torches flared in his eyes, but he squinted and dashed across the street, ducking around the corner of a building. As his eyes adjusted again to the darkness, and he blinked away flickers of phantom lights, he could see Snitch and Serene standing a bit further back in the alley between two rows of shops. Snitch crouched against a wall, arms hanging over folded knees. Serene stood beside him, tense, one hand gripping a dagger. She motioned Kildare to come back with her. He shook his head and stayed by the corner, watching the brightly lit street.


    The guards came around the corner of the prison, and Kildare pressed his back against the building, hoping that the lights blinded them enough that they wouldn¡¯t see him in the shadows.


    They swung around the next corner and disappeared.


    Kildare breathed out and glanced over at the window well.


    Seconds ticked by. Stretched out. Kildare¡¯s shoulders tightened. What was going on? Where was Fir?


    He stood.


    Behind him, Serene made a soft hissing noise. Warning him to stay back.


    He glanced over his shoulder.


    She shook her head.


    Kildare gritted his teeth and looked back at the prison.


    Finally, Fir¡¯s head poked above the window well, just as the guards rounded the corner of the building again. Kildare¡¯s heart leapt to his throat, and he motioned for his friend to duck, but Fir had already disappeared. Kildare waited, hoping that the guards wouldn¡¯t turn their heads, hoping they hadn¡¯t seen Fir.


    The two guards walked past without incident. Kildare sagged against the building, trying to slow his heart rate as Fir scrambled from the window and ran across the street.


    ¡°You¡¯re good, you¡¯re good, they didn¡¯t see you,¡± Kildare said as Fir stopped beside him and looked frantically over his shoulder.


    Fir nodded.


    ¡°What took so long?¡± Snitch growled.


    Fir glared at him. ¡°The stupid window frame crumbled in one spot. I had to prop it back together so they wouldn¡¯t spot it right away.¡±


    Snitch rolled his eyes. ¡°You all took a poxxing risk in coming after me. Should¡¯ve just left me to rot in the cells.¡±


    Kildare closed his hands into fists. ¡°That¡¯s the thanks we get for saving you?¡±


    Before either of them could get in another word, Serene stepped between them, her back to Snitch, her palms pressing into Kildare¡¯s chest. ¡°Not here,¡± she whispered. ¡°Now is not the time to start arguing. Save it until we¡¯re safe.¡±


    Kildare blew a breath out through his nostrils. She was right. He gently squeezed her wrist, then moved around Snitch and started walking back towards the Broken Chair.

 Chapter 23: Kildare

    The lock had barely clicked into place on their room in the Broken Chair before Snitch started up again.


    ¡°Why did you even bother?¡± he snapped. ¡°You should all be miles from here right now, not rescuing me from a cell.¡±


    Kildare pressed his head against the door and closed his eyes. ¡°You sound like you care, Snitch.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I just think it was a poxxed stupid thing to do, and I want to know why. You had Serene, and you had Fir. Why bother about me?¡± Snitch¡¯s voice cracked, just a little, just enough to betray him.


    Kildare turned.


    Snitch slumped on the couch, cradling his head in his hands. ¡°Stupid,¡± he muttered. ¡°Stupid.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate the gratitude,¡± Serene said, leaning one hip against the desk. She played with the edge of her silk scarf, her eyes never leaving Snitch.


    Snitch rolled his eyes. ¡°Yes. Sure. Thanks for dragging me out into your problem. Happy?¡±


    One corner of Serene¡¯s lip rose in a grin that looked more snarling than friendly.


    Fir flopped down on the couch beside Snitch. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡±


    ¡°It is. And personally? I think we need to cut our losses and run.¡± Snitch gestured to Serene. ¡°You¡¯ve got your girlfriend¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wife,¡± Serene snapped.


    Kildare walked over and leaned against the wall in front of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. ¡°We can¡¯t run.¡± He tugged the collar around his neck. ¡°Taoh picked up Fir and me and took us to Basalt.¡±


    Snitch sucked in a breath. ¡°And why not me?¡±


    ¡°Maybe because you were busy cursing Kildare out, and he figured we might be through working together?¡± Fir suggested sarcastically.


    ¡°We are. We should be,¡± Snitch said.


    ¡°Basalt still wants the puzzle box.¡±


    For a second, Snitch¡¯s gaze was on Kildare, sharp and focused. Then he cursed. ¡°He still wants that rotting box? Why?¡±


    Kildare gnawed the inside of his lip. Did he dare trust Snitch again? A few days ago he wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to share the contents of the box with him. But now¡­ He looked up, caught Serene¡¯s eyes.


    She dipped her head in a slight nod.


    If she thought he should, then so be it. Kildare looked back at Snitch. ¡°I think there¡¯s a ley artifact in the box.¡±


    Snitch nearly choked. ¡°You¡¯re lying. That¡¯s supposed to be impossible!¡±


    Kildare shook his head. ¡°You know wyverns are sensitive to large amounts of ley. I sensed it. If it¡¯s not an artifact, then I don¡¯t know what it could be. Nothing else that I know of holds that much ley signature.¡±


    ¡°And Basalt the broken Alfaren wants it.¡± Snitch cursed again. ¡°And I suppose you want me to betray Mock¡¯s plan to you so you can steal it back from her.¡±


    Kildare shrugged. ¡°That would be a nice first step.¡±


    ¡°You know where she is?¡±


    Kildare turned to Serene. ¡°You scouted while I was imprisoned?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Serene said.


    ¡°Then you know as much as I do,¡± Snitch said. ¡°All she told me was, Kildare¡¯s been edgy lately, and you notice every time Serene¡¯s name is brought up he starts acting weird, I think he¡¯s going to betray the team, so we should get a jump on him.¡± He shrugged. ¡°She just told me to come with her when we got into the museum. To just trust her.¡± He snorted. ¡°See if I¡¯ll ever do anything like that again.¡±


    Kildare stared at him in disbelief. ¡°And you just believed her?¡±


    Snitch licked his lips and looked away. He rubbed his hands together, the rasp of his dry palms loud in the silent room. ¡°For four years, you were open with us, Kil. With everything. Probably with too much. We got to where we could predict everything about you. And then a year ago, you suddenly started sneaking off. We believed you at first, gave you the benefit of the doubt, but there were times where we knew you were lying. And then she stopped hounding us.¡± He nodded to Serene. ¡°So we knew something was going on. And we waited for you to say something, but you didn¡¯t. All that openness, all that good faith¡­¡± His voice trailed off.


    Kildare didn¡¯t need for him to finish the thought. He could finish it well enough on his own. His stomach rolled into a tight knot. ¡°You figured that at best, I¡¯d gotten tired of you, and at worst, my openness had been a sham and I¡¯d only been using you for my own means.¡±


    ¡°I never,¡± Fir said.


    ¡°Well, of course you didn¡¯t!¡± Snitch growled. ¡°You¡¯ve been with Kil since you were kids. You always were blind, Fir. Too timid and blind to point out anyone¡¯s faults!¡±


    Kildare put his head in his hands, tuning out their argument. He felt sick. How had he missed this? How had he been so stupid as to think that he could hide Serene and get away with it?


    He felt the firm pressure of a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Serene crouched beside him. He reached up and clasped her hand in his. Maybe he¡¯d made mistakes, but Serene hadn¡¯t been one of them.


    He looked over at Snitch. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    The pickpocket raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.


    Kildare got up, walked over to the door, and unlocked it, then stepped to the side. He pointed to the door. ¡°There. Go, if you want. I¡¯m not going to force you to help us. We¡¯re in this position because I was too afraid to own up to both sides of my life. The truth of it, Snitch, is that I¡¯ve been hoping to be done for a while now. One more big score, just enough to get Serene free of her contract, and then we were going to be done. I wouldn¡¯t blame you if you walk out now. But I can¡¯t, not with the threat of slavery hanging over our heads.¡± Basalt hadn¡¯t threatened Snitch, but Kil was sure that was because he hadn¡¯t expected them to free Snitch. Once the crime lord found out Snitch was free, he¡¯d probably amend his deal to include the pickpocket.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Snitch looked at the door, then back at Kil. He sucked on his teeth for a moment, then said, ¡°Well, since ya went to the trouble of getting me out, I guess it¡¯d be ungrateful for me to leave now, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    Kildare suppressed a frown. He glanced up and saw that Serene was openly glaring at the back of Snitch¡¯s head. So she didn¡¯t fully trust his words, either. Kildare pushed aside his doubts. Snitch probably thought the tide was turning in their favor¡ªhe wasn¡¯t going to miss out on something if he thought it could get him a score.


    ¡°One thing, though,¡± he said quietly. ¡°We¡¯re not going there to get revenge on Mock.¡±


    Snitch snorted. ¡°Soft-hearted, Kil. Always have been.¡±


    Kildare glanced up again at Serene and was satisfied to see a gentle smile tugging on one corner of her lips. ¡°Maybe. But I think she gave me this for a reason.¡± He held up his wrist, letting the feather charm rest against his skin. ¡°I think it was a plea for help.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it was an assurance that she was doing what she had to do,¡± Fir said. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s as much a victim as we are. The second night out from Rohondeish, I was out in the courtyard of the inn, and I saw Mock come out from the stables. She looked like she¡¯d been crying.¡±


    Kildare stared at Fir for a good few seconds, trying to process what he¡¯d just heard. ¡°And¡­you didn¡¯t tell me this before, because?¡±


    Fir looked at the ground, lips pressed tightly together. ¡°Because the guy I owe money to tracked me down and had a chat with me, right before I saw Mock, and she implied that she¡¯d seen us. She said if I didn¡¯t keep her secret, she wouldn¡¯t keep mine.¡±


    Too many secrets. I hate this. Kildare sighed and looked at Snitch. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know anything about that, would you?¡±


    Snitch shook his head. ¡°Again, like I told you. All she said was that you had grown untrustworthy and that it was better to bail.¡±


    Fir crossed his arms. ¡°This didn¡¯t happen to be while you guys were sleeping together, did it?¡±


    Snitch¡¯s left eye twitched.


    Fir rolled his eyes. ¡°Why did I even bother to ask?¡±


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯d never been with her,¡± Snitch said. ¡°Mock could wrap you around her little finger, the ways she had.¡±


    ¡°Funny, you¡¯d think you would¡¯ve been more faithful to her then,¡± Serene said.


    Snitch ground his teeth. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect you to understand, wh¡ª¡± He glanced at Kildare out of the corner of his eye. ¡°Serene.¡±


    Kildare sighed and rubbed his forehead. ¡°All right. Fine. It¡¯s almost dawn, so let¡¯s get some sleep while we can. We¡¯ll try to pick up supplies this afternoon, make a plan, and try to hit the place Mock¡¯s staying tonight.¡±


    ¡°Tonight?¡± Snitch said in surprise.


    ¡°We have to move fast,¡± Fir said. ¡°I agree with Kil.¡±


    Snitch looked over his shoulder at Serene. ¡°I guess there¡¯s no point in asking you what you¡¯ll do, because you¡¯ll go with lover-boy.¡±


    Serene smiled.


    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± Snitch got up. ¡°Where am I bunking? I cannot tell you how excited I am about sleeping in a proper bed even after one night in the local jail.¡±


    Fir hooked his thumb over at the door of the second room.


    Serene turned and headed into the other bedroom as Fir and Snitch left, leaving Kildare standing in the middle of the living room, still rubbing his forehead. That had gone better than he¡¯d hoped for. At least Snitch hadn¡¯t stormed out. At least they had one more person when they went to talk to Mock.


    He rubbed the bracelet around his wrist, letting the cool metal charm slip through his fingers. But before his mind could start spinning with all the questions, all the guilt, yet again, Kildare shook them from his mind and headed to the door of his and Serene¡¯s bedroom.


    She wasn¡¯t there. She¡¯d left the window open, though. Kildare sat on the sill and looked upward in time to see her legs disappearing over the edge of the roof. He grabbed the metal drainpipe at the edge of the wall and scrambled up after her.


    Serene sat at the peak of the roof, knees drawn up to her chest, perfectly balanced despite the precarious perch. She looked down as he pulled himself over the edge of the gutter, and another soft smile curved her lips. Kildare crawled up and laid down on the roof next to her. The tiles were cool under his skin. He folded his arms under his head and waited.


    Serene stared out over the town to the harbor, the dark, predawn blue of the sea reflecting in her eyes. She put one hand on his shoulder. Kildare reached up and covered it with his hand.


    ¡°Do you ever just find yourself wanting to drop everything and fly away?¡± she asked softly. ¡°Go somewhere remote, somewhere where no one could ever find you, and just live?¡±


    A pang shot through Kildare¡¯s heart. He sat up a little, squeezed her hand. ¡°Not before I met you.¡±


    She turned to look at him, her eyes skipping back and forth as her gaze roamed over his face. ¡°I don¡¯t want to change who you are, Kil. You¡¯re a good man, with a good heart. I¡¯ve seen you sneak coins to street urchins. You rescued every member of your team and yourself from terrible circumstances. If we do break my contract¡ªif Basalt accepts this job and whatever we can give him¡ªwhat would you want to do? I know you just want to help people, but how can you do that if you¡¯re hiding away because your wife is afraid?¡±


    Kil smirked. ¡°I¡¯d be helping you then, wouldn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°I just¡ªI don¡¯t want you to change for me.¡±


    Warmth spread through Kil¡¯s chest. The way Serene¡¯s eyes gazed into his, the way she leaned forward earnestly as she spoke¡ªeven her words¡ªall of it eased the fear that he¡¯d felt deep down in his heart. She wasn¡¯t playing him. Couldn¡¯t be playing him. No one could be that earnest if they were lying.


    He scooted closer and reached up, brushing a tendril of hair behind her ear. ¡°We can still figure out ways to help people.¡±


    She looked away as he rested his hand against her cheek, again looking out over the ocean. Serene folded her arms in her lap and bit her lower lip.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to be this way,¡± she whispered. ¡°Basalt wasn¡¯t supposed to know about you until we paid off the contract.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s all right. We can roll with it.¡±


    ¡°And I wasn¡¯t supposed to split up your team.¡±


    Knots formed in his stomach. So that¡¯s why she was so worried. Kildare leaned over and wrapped his arms around Serene, moving her a little closer to him. He hugged her tightly, felt her tension as she leaned against him. He pressed his lips to her hair and breathed softly. She smelled like sea salt and burning embers.


    ¡°This is not your fault,¡± he whispered. ¡°I was stupid. And Snitch and Mock got cagey. So blame me. But never blame yourself. You warned me.¡±


    She didn¡¯t look at him. ¡°How can you trust me after this?¡±


    The uncertainty twinged like an old, aching muscle, and Kildare again pushed it aside. ¡°Because you keep asking that question,¡± he whispered. ¡°I think if you were playing a long con to get me into Basalt¡¯s clutches, you¡¯d do all you could to avoid turning my thoughts to betrayal and distrust.¡± He kissed her neck. ¡°And because I love you, and with my whole heart, I believe you love me.¡±


    Serene turned then, and he caught tears in the corners of her eyes before she ducked under his arms. She moved to sit in his lap, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his chest. He felt her hands clutch the back of his shirt, felt her shoulders heave in a deep, shuddering breath, and he pulled her tighter into a hug. It felt so strange. Serene was his rock. How many times had it been her, soothing his frazzled nerves after a job, or calming him down after Snitch had pushed one too many things too far? He¡¯d seen her vulnerable before, but never quite like this.


    They sat in silence until the first pink rays of sun poked over the edge of the horizon. Finally, Serene stirred. She sat up, brushing away the dried traces of tears. Kildare again tucked her hair behind her ears, this time pressing a light kiss against her forehead.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she murmured.


    Her hands clasped on the back of his neck, and she pressed her lips to his. Her lips were warm and soft, an intensity to the kiss that he recognized and responded to. Kildare moved his hands to her hips, pulling her tight against him. Serene pulled away from the kiss and leaned back, grinning as she playfully tugged at the laces of his shirt neck.


    Heat coiled in Kildare¡¯s belly. ¡°We¡¯d better get inside before someone sees us out here,¡± he whispered.


    Serene cocked her head to the side. ¡°Better hurry then.¡±


    Kildare watched her as she slid back down to the edge of the roof, her quick, lithe movements making very little noise on the tiles. Then he glanced up at the sunrise.


    Despite the mood Serene had left him in, with a warmth in his belly and every nerve buzzing, his thoughts spiraled back to their mission. Tonight, they¡¯d confront Mock. Get some answers. Hopefully, they¡¯d walk out of that house with the puzzle box.


    If not¡­


    An image flashed into his mind. Serene, wrists rubbed raw by chains. A thick slave collar locked around her neck. Blouse torn and dirty. The fierce spark in her eyes dulled into acceptance. Bile rose into Kildare¡¯s mouth and he clenched his fists, pushing the thought away. Thinking of Serene as he¡¯d just seen her¡ªhair wind-tossed, wearing her favorite purple scarf, eyes sparkling as they reflected the color of the sea. That was his Serene, wild and free. He would do everything he could to keep her that way.

 Chapter 24: Kildare

    All too soon, they were gathered in the living area again, clustered around the desk that Kildare had moved into the center of the room.


    Serene stood over the table, finishing the final details on her sketch of the place Mock was staying. Snitch and Fir sat to the side, muttering back and forth as they went through the supplies they¡¯d bought, making sure they had everything they needed.


    Kildare watched from his perch on the back of the couch, tapping his steepled fingers against his chin.


    Gradually Fir and Snitch stopped talking, and their eyes drifted over to him. Waiting. Kildare pressed back a sigh. If Mock was here, this would be everything he¡¯d dreamed about¡ªhis team and his wife, working together.


    He motioned for everyone to gather around the desk. ¡°All right, so here are my thoughts. We need more reconnaissance, for one¡ªwe have to figure out a good place to get Mock alone.¡± He looked at Serene. ¡°Right? You didn¡¯t actually see where Mock was staying in here?¡±


    Serene shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t even see Mock herself.¡±


    Snitch frowned. ¡°How do you know she was there, then?¡±


    ¡°Her scent was there, and it hadn¡¯t drifted anywhere else,¡± Serene replied calmly.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the end of the world if we¡¯re seen, is it?¡± Fir asked.


    ¡°Depends on how jumpy these people are,¡± Kildare said. ¡°I think we should go into it assuming the worst.¡±


    Snitch flicked his wrist, a knife appearing from his sleeve. ¡°So we just take out a few guards.¡±


    ¡°And hide the bodies where?¡± Kildare snapped. ¡°Just because Mock betrayed us doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m easing up on my killing policy, Snitch. If at all possible, we do this without bloodshed.¡±


    Snitch grunted and made the knife disappear again. ¡°What¡¯s the point of this, Kil? You don¡¯t wanna get revenge on Mock. You just wanna get the box and get out?¡±


    ¡°I want to get the puzzle box and I want to talk to Mock.¡± Kildare took a deep breath, waiting for the babble of opposition. No one said anything, but they all eyed him skeptically except Fir. Kildare tapped the charm bracelet on his wrist. ¡°I¡¯ve made myself clear on this. We give her a chance to explain herself. Besides, asking her will cut our search for the puzzle box shorter.¡±


    ¡°How many guards are we looking at?¡± Fir asked Serene.


    She shrugged. ¡°I saw at least a half dozen outside. Who knows how many more? But there was a supply delivery while I was there, and if that¡¯s any judge, then there¡¯s a decent chance they were either planning to stay for a long time, or laying in supplies for about fifty people all told. There was fresh produce in the delivery though, so I¡¯d say the latter is the best guess. And judging by the size of the house, they probably have about ten servants on staff, so we¡¯re looking at somewhere between thirty-five and forty trained soldiers.¡±


    Snitch whistled. ¡°Well, this will be fun.¡±


    Kildare shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s just like most of the private residence jobs we¡¯ve pulled.¡± He pointed to the east side of the house in Serene¡¯s sketch. ¡°I think the upper-story windows will be our best point of entry. There¡¯s ivy, so while Snitch and Serene create a distraction, Fir and I will go in and he can strengthen the ivy so we can climb. Once in, we¡¯ll sneak down to the kitchens and open a window for Snitch and Serene. When we¡¯re all inside, we¡¯ll have to move quickly¡ªwith the distraction, the guards will probably become suspicious and try to search the house.¡±


    Fir shook his head, breathing in through his teeth. ¡°If we get caught¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hopefully we find Mock or the box before that happens.¡± Kildare forced a grin. ¡°Best-case scenario, we talk to Mock and find the puzzle box. Worst case, we get caught and sent to prison.¡±


    ¡°Or Oak kills us,¡± Serene said quietly. ¡°Or we don¡¯t get the puzzle box, and Basalt forces us into slavery.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a bag of fun, aren¡¯t you, darling?¡± Snitch growled at her.


    Serene raised her eyebrows. ¡°Please tell me that your plans usually skewed more toward how you handled the museum versus how you¡¯re handling this.¡±


    Fir chuckled. ¡°Usually we had more than a day to scope out a place, too.¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey.¡± Kildare flicked a pen at Serene¡¯s arm. ¡°I¡¯m working with what I¡¯ve got.¡±


    She smirked. ¡°Darling husband, if we get out of this job without having to run for our lives, I¡¯ll owe you an apple turnover.¡±


    ¡°Can I get in on that bet?¡± Fir said. ¡°I¡¯ll buy if we end up not in prison again.¡±


    ¡°Hard to buy turnovers in a prison cell,¡± Snitch pointed out irritably. ¡°I¡¯ll be happy with not dying.¡±


    Kildare clasped his hands at the back of his neck. ¡°If worse comes to worst, Fir, Serene and I will shift.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t shift,¡± Snitch snapped.


    Kildare ignored him. ¡°We¡¯ll get you and Snitch out of there.¡± He turned to Snitch. ¡°I can shift enough.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯d kill yourself trying to rescue one of us.¡± Snitch rolled his eyes. ¡°Your nobility is touching, but misplaced. Save it for someone else.¡±


    Fir glanced up at Kildare. ¡°If we fail, we¡¯ll all be doomed for the auction markets by tomorrow morning.¡±


    Kildare shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll go on the run. Do something. If Basalt does want us sold into slavery he¡¯s going to have to drag us there kicking and screaming.¡±


    No one said anything after that. The mood was dark, and so heavy that Kildare could almost feel it like a physical weight on his shoulders. He ducked into his room to change into his shifter clothing and breathed a deep sigh of relief as he pushed the door shut behind him.


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    He¡¯d always wanted the heists to be something more. For some reason other than to have the money to give to the people around him. But he¡¯d never wanted the stakes this heavy¡ªthis personal.


    He tugged the close-fitting leggings on, then put his regular pants and shirt on over them. As he finished buttoning his shirt, a knock came at the door.


    ¡°Kil?¡± It was Serene. ¡°We¡¯re ready.¡±


    He took a few seconds for another deep, mind-clearing breath, then squared his shoulders. As long as he put on a confident face, let his team see that he believed in them¡­they actually had a shot. He rubbed the charm bracelet on his wrist again, then opened the door.


    Serene reached up, pressed her hand to his heart. He could feel the blood pulsing through her fingertips and knew she could feel his hammering heartbeat. Her blue eyes flicked over his face, searching, knowing him more deeply than even he could. She arched up on tiptoe and kissed him gently, more gently than she ever had before, and the soft touch of her lips almost broke him. The bond between them was stretching again, even though they stood close. Kildare could feel it¡­and this time, he wasn¡¯t sure if it would stretch past the breaking point or not. He blew out a breath and wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair, breathed in the sea salt and burnt ember smell of her.


    After a moment, Serene slipped out of his grasp, squeezed his hands tightly, then opened the door and was gone, like a shadow. Snitch slunk after her, his tall frame seeming shrunken and caved in on itself.


    Without a word, Fir looked at him, nodded, and stepped out the door. Kildare paused on the threshold, scanning the room. It was still in disarray from their planning session, but they¡¯d left nothing behind. He took a deep breath of the sea air filtering through the still open window and pulled the door closed behind him, feeling like he was forever closing off a part of his life.


    This was it.


    They walked through the tavern portion of the Broken Chair, ignoring the noise and shouts and smells of sour beer around them. Outside was sticky and hot, despite the light breeze blowing in from the sea and the setting sun. Kildare felt the warmth of the cobblestones under his feet, even through the soles of his boots.


    Serene and Snitch were nowhere to be seen, so he and Fir kept moving, weaving in and out of the traffic until they¡¯d climbed the winding hills of the streets above the harbor, into the wealthier district of the city.


    The house was tall and narrow, built of sturdy brick on the lower story and pristine white stucco on the two upper stories. Just as Serene had said, the sides were covered in ivy. It would make it easier to climb up to the top floor, where the windows yawned open, protected only by flimsy wooden shutters, to help catch the nightly sea breeze and cool the house.There didn¡¯t look to be any guards, not at first glance as they walked by, but Kildare was sure there were men watching the gated entrance in the hedges that surrounded the house.


    He and Fir turned the corner, then ducked into the hedge, worming their way through the thick, tangled greenery until they could see the house. Then they settled in to wait. It was incredibly uncomfortable¡ªthe thick leaves meant that little of the evening sea breeze made it through the hedge, so there was little relief from the sticky humidity. Kildare didn¡¯t dare squirm around much, so he settled into a crouch that, after sitting for a while, made him realize he had sticks jabbing him in the shoulder. There wasn¡¯t much he could do about it without making a lot of noise, though, so he tried to ignore it, turning the charm bracelet over and over on his wrist.


    As the sky darkened, several men left the house and began to patrol the expansive, manicured lawn. They watched, and Kildare could hear Fur murmuring under his breath, taking note of how many pairs of men patrolled the lawn and at what intervals.


    He glanced up at the sky. Overhead, a few of the brighter stars twinkled in the deepening light. It was almost full dark.


    He nudged Fir¡¯s shoulder. Fir reached up, and a faint green glow surrounded his hand as he gently brushed aside branches so he could move over and give Kildare more room. The twigs willingly bent out of his way, leaving a clear space for Fir¡¯s slim shoulders to slide through.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t have done that earlier?¡± Kildare smirked at him.


    Fir shrugged, grinning.


    Any moment now, Serene and Snitch would light the fireworks. They had to be ready for that split second when everyone would be startled and look for the noise.


    ¡°Ready to go?¡± he said.


    Fir blew out a breath. ¡°Yeah. I just hope¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Mock¡¯d say I almost jinxed us.¡±


    Fir laughed. ¡°Yeah, she would.¡±


    Kildare resettled his pack on his shoulders. What would they find in this house? Explanations? The prize that would keep them away from the slave block? Kildare knew he couldn¡¯t hope for both outcomes. That he¡¯d probably have to choose. But blight, he couldn¡¯t choose.


    With an unearthly shriek, a trail of sparks flew into the sky and shattered, scattering pink-colored embers against the navy blue. Shouts exploded from the far corner of the estate.


    Fir waved his hands, and the hedge branches parted in front of them, giving them a clear shot to the house. Kildare held his arm out, holding Fir back as he scanned the dark stretch of grass. A few shapes scrambled from the front of the house and disappeared behind the walls.


    ¡°Go,¡± he ordered, and dashed forward.


    The grass was cold and damp against his bare feet as he ran. Behind him, he could hear Fir¡¯s feet thudding against the earth, the slight jingle of the straps of their packs. Another firework shrieked into the sky and died in a shower of blue sparks.


    They skidded to a stop beside the wall. Fir stretched out his hands, one at his side, fingers twitching, the other buried to the wrist in the ivy that covered the stone wall of the house. Wood creaked and groaned, and leaves rustled.


    Kildare gulped in air and glanced over his shoulder. He could see several guards running across the backyard, and could hear the shouts of more, but no one seemed to be looking their way.


    ¡°Come on.¡± Fir grasped handfuls of the vines and scurried up the wall.


    He scrambled up the ivy after Fir. The vines creaked under his weight, but held. Above him, Fir¡¯s lock picks clicked. He shoved open one of the shuttered windows and crawled inside.


    As Kildare reached for the windowsill, the vine supporting his foot snapped. Kildare yelped and dug his fingers into the vines below the window.


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    Kildare¡¯s lungs froze. He tried to pull himself up, but the vines creaked menacingly. He could hear footsteps coming around the corner of the house.


    Fir reached down and grabbed his wrists, hauling him up. Kildare collapsed to the floor, and Fir quickly swung the window shut.


    A low murmur of voices sounded outside, but no shouts. Kildare strained, but couldn¡¯t hear what they said.


    ¡°Did they see you?¡± he whispered, sitting up.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Fir muttered. ¡°They could¡¯ve caught the last glimpse of the window swinging shut, but who knows if they¡¯ll come investigate it or not.¡±


    They crouched near the wall, frozen, listening, but with the near-constant screech of the fireworks, they couldn¡¯t tell whether the guards had moved on or not. Kildare reached for his pack and pulled his shirt on.


    ¡°How big of a pack of fireworks did they buy?¡± Fir hissed in Kildare¡¯s ear.


    ¡°A five-minute one.¡±


    ¡°Stars, Kil.¡± He chuckled.


    ¡°What? I wanted to be sure to give them plenty of time.¡± Kildare stood up and glanced around the room. It was small, with shelves and simple wooden boxes mostly filling the space. Neatly folded linens were tucked in the shelves, and there was a strong smell of cedar and mothballs that tickled his nose. The room¡¯s door was propped open and he could feel the slight hint of a night breeze channeling through the room.


    Kildare crept forward, easing his feet down on the boards so they wouldn¡¯t creak. They made their way out of the linen storage. The hall was long and low, with bare, varnished boards. Several other doors lined the hallway, all shut. Probably servants¡¯ quarters.


    The stairs barely squeaked as Kildare walked down, two landings that took them¡ªjust as he¡¯d hoped¡ªright into the back of the kitchen. He paused, scanning the darkened room, hoping there were no servants up late tidying up.


    The room seemed empty. Outside, brilliant pops of pink and green colored the sky, washing the inside of the kitchen with faint echoes of the colors. Kildare motioned for Fir to stay in the shadows of the stairwell and stepped toward the windows at the back of the room. He leaned over the butcher block and rested his fingers on the latch on the inside of the window. Another loud crackle, and he flipped the latch open, swinging the window wide.


    Serene. We¡¯re ready for you.


    A hand gripped his ankle.

 Chapter 25: Kildare

    Kildare stifled a yell as he spun, kicking his leg free. He drew his other foot back, looked down.


    Mock stared up at him, finger pressed to her lips, her eyes wide.


    Kildare immediately stepped backward out of her reach. He pressed the heel of his hand to his chest, willing his racing pulse to slow.


    ¡°Kil?¡± Fir whispered from the stairway.


    Kildare motioned him down into the room as Mock rose to her feet, finger still pressed to her lips.


    Mock used her free hand to sign. Follow.


    Kildare shook his head. He shouldn¡¯t have chosen to use fireworks. Of course Mock would be suspicious. He tensed, leaning forward slightly, ready to grab at her if she decided to shout for the guards.


    Mock rolled her eyes, then suddenly jumped and glanced over her shoulder.


    Kildare strained his ears and caught the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway.


    ¡°Pox,¡± Fir hissed, starting to push past Kildare.


    Mock waved them back. She turned to a cabinet. The hinges squeaked as she yanked it open and withdrew a pottery cup. She glanced over at Kildare and motioned again. Down. Then she crossed the kitchen to the sink.


    ¡°Do as she said.¡± Kil kept his tone barely audible. He pushed down on Fir¡¯s shoulder.


    They ducked down behind the cabinets about five feet away from Mock. Kildare crouched on one knee, hand pressed against the floor. If she tried to betray them...


    Mock twisted, holding the handle of the water pump and watching the door.


    The footsteps came closer.


    She pushed the handle up and down, the hinges of the pump squeaking. Just as she tipped the cup under the water, someone spoke from the doorway.


    ¡°What are you doing up?¡±


    Mock jumped, dropping the cup into the sink. There was a cracking, chinking sound. She turned. ¡°Jerome! You startled me!¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be out right now, Mockingbird,¡± the guard said shortly.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I just...I was getting a cup of water. Clover was thirsty.¡± She turned back to the sink and began scraping up the shards of the pottery cup. ¡°I¡¯ll get this cleaned up and then head straight back to my rooms, I promise. What are the fireworks about? I saw them outside the window.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know yet,¡± the guard grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m going out to talk to the captain¡ªsee that you hurry up.¡±


    ¡°I will. Whatever you say.¡±


    The guard grunted again, and his footsteps clunked down the hallway away from the kitchen.


    Mock grabbed another cup from the cabinet, then reached down and held her hand out to Kildare.


    Kildare stared at her fingers for a moment, then took a deep breath and grabbed her hand. She gripped around his wrist as he stood, her fingers brushing the feather charm on his bracelet.


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    Fir straightened, eyes narrowed.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Snitch?¡± she whispered. ¡°How did you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Later.¡± Kildare glanced around. ¡°We need that puzzle box, Mock.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Fir stepped closer, fists clenching. ¡°Where is it, Mock?¡±


    She shoved her free hand through her hair, then spun, pulling on Kildare¡¯s arm. ¡°Come on. I know a place where we can talk.¡±


    Kil stumbled forward a few steps before halting himself. ¡°We¡¯re waiting for Serene and Snitch.¡±


    ¡°Serene?¡± Mock winced and glanced over at Fir. ¡°So Snitch was right.¡±


    Before anyone could say anything else, Serene spoke from behind Kildare. ¡°Yes, Snitch was right. And I¡¯d appreciate you unhanding my husband at once.¡±


    Mock¡¯s face turned scarlet, and she dropped Kildare¡¯s wrist like it had burned her. Kildare turned around.


    Serene crouched on the countertop behind them. She must have slipped through the window during one of the fireworks exploding, otherwise Kildare knew he would have heard her.


    Serene slid off the counter and stepped up beside Kildare, shoulders back and chin lifted, staring at Mock.


    Mock straightened and stared back, no sign of her discomfort besides her slowly fading blush.


    Kildare waited until Snitch had crawled through the window and shut it, then pressed his hand against Serene¡¯s back. ¡°You said there was a place we could talk privately,¡± he said to Mock.


    ¡°Who cares about talking?¡± Snitch hissed, shouldering past Kildare. He grabbed the front of Mock¡¯s tunic and yanked her close.


    She stiff-armed him, keeping him at a distance, her eyes flickering into anger. ¡°Let go of me.¡±


    ¡°You betrayed me, Mock!¡± Raw pain laced Snitch¡¯s voice. ¡°You used me and you betrayed me. When you told me about your plan, I thought¡ª¡±


    ¡°What, that we had something special?¡± Mock¡¯s voice rose. ¡°Rot you! You used me just as much as I used you, Snitch! You didn¡¯t care about me, otherwise you would¡¯ve stayed out of the brothels like I told you to! How dare you think¡ª¡±


    They were getting far too loud.


    Kildare grabbed the back of Snitch¡¯s tunic and yanked him away. ¡°Rot you both! If we get caught I¡¯m not bailing you out this time, Snitch.¡± He glared at Mock. ¡°And if we get caught, you¡¯re going down with us this time.¡±


    Mock pushed past Serene to the sink and pumped more water into the cup. She turned, cradling the pottery against her midsection. ¡°If you want an explanation, we need to find somewhere else to talk. Maybe I can help you. But I¡¯m not going to risk standing here any longer.¡±


    She shoved past them and headed out the door.


    Snitch snorted. ¡°Does she think we¡¯re going to fall for that?¡±


    Kildare stepped forward, brushing past him. ¡°She heard a guard coming and told us to hide, and she didn¡¯t rat us out then. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to now.¡± He glanced back at Serene. Would she agree?


    Serene looked him in the eye, then raised her chin and nodded.


    Kildare followed after Mock.


    As they reached the landing for the second story, Mock motioned for them to stop. Kildare held his breath as she stepped from the stairwell and walked down the hallway. Was she going to alert the guards?


    Halfway down the hall, Mock stopped and cracked open a door, then motioned for them.


    ¡°One at a time,¡± Kildare whispered, nudging Serene forward.


    ¡°If it¡¯s a trap?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Then fight, scream, and I¡¯ll have your back,¡± he whispered back.


    She balked a little, but dashed down the hallway, the thick, plush carpet muffling her footfalls. She dodged into the room and disappeared.


    Kildare held his breath.


    No sounds.


    He nudged Snitch next. The human disappeared just as quickly as Serene did. Kildare was about to motion Fir forward when he heard the creak of armor from around the corner. He pushed Fir back down the stairs and crouched so that he could just barely see the hallway.


    As four soldiers rounded the corner of the hallway, Mock pretended to be pushing open the door to her room.


    ¡°Mock,¡± one of them snapped. ¡°What are you doing out?¡±


    Mock turned, cradling the cup of water close in one hand. She bobbled it a little. ¡°The noise woke us up, and Clover was thirsty.¡± She frowned. ¡°Do you know what those fireworks were about, anyway?¡±


    The soldier grunted. ¡°No, but we¡¯re checking into it. Probably some idiot kids who stole them from somewhere.¡±


    Mock nodded. For a moment they stood there, quietly, then she said in a forcefully cheerful voice, ¡°Well, good night. Sorry to worry you.¡± Mock stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.


    The guard turned to one of the men beside him. ¡°Lock her in,¡± he ordered, then turned and walked away, two of the others following him.


    The remaining guard swung an iron bar across the door, securing it on one side with a padlock. Then he sat down, putting his back against the door, and laid his drawn sword across his knees.


    ¡°Rot,¡± Kildare whispered. ¡°Rot it all.¡±

 Chapter 26: Kildare

    ¡°The good news is, he¡¯s not seriously expecting anyone,¡± Kildare told Fir. ¡°He¡¯s sitting with his legs crossed¡ªit gives him a slower response time.¡±


    ¡°Slow enough that you can get there before he screams a warning?¡± Fir asked.


    Kildare gnawed on the inside of his lip. ¡°Maybe if I shifted.¡±


    ¡°We could go back outside and get up to the window.¡±


    ¡°Might be the least risky idea of them all,¡± Kildare agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving before someone decides to check the servants¡¯ stairs.¡±


    As they headed back down the stairs, Kildare reached out past his own stressed breathing, the creaks of the house as it settled around them. Waited to feel any breath of wind across his face.


    Nothing.


    They left by the same window that Snitch and Serene had used to get in and slunk along the foundation of the house. The fireworks had stopped, but he could still hear the sound of voices out by the west side of the estate.


    They made it around the house without any trouble. Kildare glanced up at the second story, trying to figure out which window was Mock¡¯s, when one of the windows opened and a figure leaned out.


    ¡°Quickly,¡± Serene hissed.


    There was no ivy on this side of the house. Kildare scanned the wall, searching for possible handholds, when voices caught his ears. He swiveled, searching for the noise. Four men walked toward the house from the back of the estate. One gestured with a burned-out firework stake in his hand, the end of the stake still glowing with embers.


    And there were other voices in the front of the house.


    He gripped Fir¡¯s shoulder and hissed, ¡°Guards.¡±


    The Alfaren went instantly still.


    Rot. If they left the shadow of the house and tried to run back to the hedge, the guards would spot them running across the moonlit lawn. The front was guarded. If they stayed where they were, the guards coming back from investigating the fireworks would see them.


    He had to move fast.


    Kildare eyed the distance, then without warning, wrapped his arms around Fir¡¯s chest and shifted. Scales pricked his cheeks and hands. He could feel the drag of his shirt as it shifted with him¡ªany extra material threw off his balance, but he could cope with it. More worrying¡­Kil could feel the tightness of the collar pressing into his neck, cutting off his air. He shoved down his panic and sprang upward, using as much wing movement as he could with his front claws clutched around Fir. The movement sent black spots swimming across his vision.


    He shoved Fir at the window. The Alfaren scrambled in.


    Kildare grabbed at the windowsill. His claw tips latched onto the wooden surface, and instantly Serene¡¯s hands shot out, gripping his wrists.


    Kildare shifted.


    Without the lift of his wings, his body dropped like a rock. He brought his feet up just in time to keep from slamming into the brick side of the house. Serene grunted as one of his hands slipped off the windowsill. He dug his feet in against the house and levered himself up, grabbing the windowsill again and hauling himself in. Serene clutched the back of his shirt, then the waistband of his pants as he struggled into the window.


    Kildare rolled onto the floor and lay still, panting, his eyes closed.


    ¡°Not your most graceful moment,¡± Serene chuckled as she closed the window.


    Kildare snorted and opened one eye to look up at her. ¡°No, I¡ª¡±


    Serene lifted a finger to her lips in a shushing motion, then nodded to the other side of the room. Kildare sat up.


    The room was about the size of the room Basalt had housed them in at the Broken Chair. They were in the bedroom area, and out the door at the front of the room, Kildare could see a small living space.


    Mock sat on a tall four-poster bed beside the fire, one leg tucked up and underneath her as she leaned over a small, curled up form tucked under the covers on the bed. The child moved restlessly, and Mock bent down, whispering something to her.


    Kildare gulped, suddenly understanding at least a little of why Mock did what she had. The child was a miniature copy of Mock, from the rough, tousled blond hair to the slim jawline. She blinked, and Mock ran her fingers over the girl¡¯s face. Another blink, and the child¡¯s eyes remained closed.


    Snitch and Fir stood by the bedroom doorway, glancing between Mock and the child, soft expressions on their faces.


    After a moment, Mock stood and made a shooing motion. Kildare got up, and they all crept from the room. Mock gently closed the door behind them, then walked to the fireplace that was shared between the two rooms. She lit a taper and used it to light several candles, until Kildare could see the well-kept furniture and thick rugs scattered around the living space. Whoever owned this house, they had been able to afford to fill it with durable, well-made pieces. It wasn¡¯t a king¡¯s palace, but it was most definitely on the level of a rich merchant. He could even see a couple of gas lanterns on the walls, with thin iron piping running up the wall to them, but guessed that they made too much light for their purposes.


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    Mock tossed what was left of the taper into the fire and turned, putting her back to the wall beside the fireplace. She sank down to her haunches and stared at a spot on the rug about three feet from Kildare, shoulders hunched and arms drawn around her knees.


    Kildare glanced at Serene. She perched on the back of the couch, facing Mock but not engaging with her. Serene looked over at him, her eyes glimmering pale in the dim light of the room. Snitch and Fir both stood to the side, looking awkward.


    Apparently, everyone was content to leave it to him. It was only fair, Kildare guessed. He was the one who had wanted to actually find Mock and talk to her, as opposed to the others who had just wanted to get the puzzle box and get out.


    He sat down on the thick, plush rug in front of Mock and reached out, gently putting his hand over hers where it laid on her knee. She looked up, brushed the curtain of thick hair out of her face. Tear trails glimmered down her cheeks.


    ¡°Mock¡­¡± Kildare sighed and cocked his head to the side, unsure of how to continue.


    She took a deep breath. ¡°So. I guess you know why I did what I did.¡±


    Kildare leaned back on his hands. ¡°I want to hear it from you. What happened? And why did you give me this?¡± He rubbed his thumb along the charm bracelet.


    Her lips twisted, and she leaned her head back against the wall. ¡°Back before you found me¡ªbefore you rescued me from that brothel¡ªI¡¯d had a baby. In fact, it was about six months before you offered me a spot on your team.¡±


    Kildare well remembered the day he¡¯d leaned across the bar, sliding a note under his money to the Alfaren girl who had served him a drink. He¡¯d been looking for someone good at acting, good at distractions. He¡¯d seen Mock break up potential fights with a well-placed sentence or two. Watched her smile and laugh until she thought she had a private moment¡ªand then he¡¯d seen the mask fall and her eyes darken and her lips tighten. She¡¯d never talked about it¡ªhe¡¯d just eventually assumed it was because she knew what her eventual fate would be, working in a brothel bar.


    But no. She¡¯d had a daughter. But why had Mock kept her a secret?


    ¡°It¡¯s not what you think,¡± Mock said quietly. ¡°It was by someone who loved me. Who promised he¡¯d marry me. But shortly after I discovered I was pregnant, he was knifed in a fight. I¡¯d been a barmaid elsewhere, but the brothel was the only place that paid enough to support both of us. I planned to keep the baby, but shortly after she was born, Oak¡¯s men came knocking. They said that because the girl¡¯s father had been Oak¡¯s contracted worker, the baby was under contract as well. I fought, but I¡¯d only given birth a few hours before and I couldn¡¯t stop them from taking her.¡±


    ¡°You told us that you¡¯d been forced to work there,¡± Snitch said sharply. ¡°That you were afraid that they¡¯d force you to sell yourself.¡±


    Mock shook her head. ¡°I did think that was a possibility, but...at that point, I was just sick and heartbroken, and I wanted away from that place. I...I thought that was the end of it.¡± Mock¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°I thought I¡¯d lost my girl forever. But right after you told us we were coming here, Oak contacted me again. He knew Basalt had hired us, even before we did. He said that if I took what we¡¯d been hired to steal and brought it to him, he¡¯d give me my daughter back.¡± She nodded to Fir. ¡°I was talking to one of his men in the stable the night you saw me.¡±


    Snitch looked around the dark room. ¡°I don¡¯t see freedom here yet, Mock.¡± His voice was gruff, as if he was fighting hard to hold back even a hint of gentleness.


    ¡°Oak said I had to stay here. He said it was for my protection.¡±


    Kildare leaned forward and put his hands on hers. ¡°Why, Mock?¡± he whispered.


    She sniffed. ¡°You¡¯d been sneaking out, and I was afraid you were done with us, and¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She hunched forward, pressing her hands to her mouth.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± Kildare told her softly. ¡°Stars, Mock, I don¡¯t think any of us would¡¯ve done differently in that situation.¡±


    Snitch snorted. ¡°Maybe I wouldn¡¯t have left my teammates for the city guard, but yeah.¡±


    Mock glared at him. ¡°That wasn¡¯t me. I wanted to leave you all conscious and let you run. But Oak¡¯s lieutenant, Whisper, he wouldn¡¯t allow it. He forced me to leave while his team knocked you guys out and tied you up. And what I said in there¡­I¡¯m sorry. I was scared. I thought I had to show Oak¡¯s men that I was really on their side.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just tell us, Mock?¡± Serene asked. ¡°We all would¡¯ve helped you.¡±


    Mock drew in a shaky breath. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Oak threatened me, he told me to keep quiet. I just assumed he¡¯d just know. And I was afraid of who Kildare was meeting in secret and what he might say. I just¡ªI couldn¡¯t risk losing my daughter again. I haven¡¯t seen her since she was only a few hours old.¡±


    Kildare leaned back, mind spinning. He could feel his freedom¡ªSerene¡¯s freedom¡ªslipping through his grasp. Who was he to ask Mock to exchange her daughter for them? She wouldn¡¯t do it, anyway. She¡¯d already proven that. He rubbed his thumb along the bracelet. ¡°But you gave me this to warn me that something was off.¡±


    ¡°I hoped you¡¯d come after me,¡± Mock said quietly. ¡°I hoped I¡¯d at least get a chance to explain to you. What happened, anyway? They wouldn¡¯t let me stay to see.¡±


    ¡°Snitch got thrown into prison,¡± Kildare said. ¡°Taoh snuck Fir and me off to meet with Basalt.¡±


    Mock¡¯s face paled. ¡°Oh no. I didn¡¯t even think about¡­ I was hoping you¡¯d been able to make it out somehow, that you¡¯d split from town and Basalt wouldn¡¯t be able to find you.¡±


    ¡°Seem like you left an awful lot to chance there, Mock,¡± Snitch growled.


    ¡°I was panicking, all right?¡± She shot back. ¡°How would you feel if you suddenly had a chance to reunite with your family, Snitch?¡±


    Kildare swiveled to look over his shoulder at Snitch in time to see the thief wince. Snitch¡¯s family was all dead¡ªa plague had swept through when he¡¯d been a boy. He¡¯d grown up like Kildare and Fir, on the streets.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he muttered. ¡°I see your point.¡±


    Mock looked back to Kildare. ¡°What did Basalt say?¡±


    ¡°He said that if I didn¡¯t get the puzzle box back from you, he would sell us¡ªFir, Serene, and me¡ªinto slavery.¡±


    Mock bristled. ¡°He can¡¯t do that!¡±


    ¡°He can,¡± Serene said shortly. ¡°He holds my contract. As for Fir and Kil, they may not be formally registered, indentured slaves, but there are markets where that sort of thing doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    Mock shrank back from Serene¡¯s harsh tone, biting her lower lip. She rubbed the back of her neck, the charm bracelets on her wrists jingling quietly.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the puzzle box, Mock?¡±


    She looked sideways at him. ¡°But my daughter¡­¡±


    ¡°You and your daughter can come with us,¡± Kildare said. ¡°No one¡¯s going to ask you to give her up again.¡±


    Mock shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t take that chance. Oak found me once, to hold her life over my head. You don¡¯t think he could hunt us down again if we run out on him?¡±


    Kildare sat back, sighing in frustration. It was no good. Mock was simply too scared for her daughter¡¯s sake to consider letting them have the puzzle box. A cold fear spread over his chest. They would sell him and Serene. He¡¯d never see his bond-mate or his best friend again. It was hopeless.

 Chapter 27: Kildare

    Mock still huddled by the fireplace, toying with the prayer beads braided into her hair, as Kildare got up. He jerked his head, motioning for the others to join him at the other side of the room. Only Serene and Fir moved with him. Snitch stayed where he was, leaning against the wall beside the couch, arms crossed over his chest, his head bowed so that his limp hair hid his expression.


    Kildare scanned Fir''s and Serene¡¯s faces. The tension showed in the lines by their eyes and mouths. He knew they were all thinking the same thing. Mock would fight anything they suggested, as long as she thought that it would put her daughter in danger.


    Kildare honestly couldn¡¯t blame her. He couldn¡¯t imagine what he¡¯d do if he had children and someone threatened them.


    ¡°We could run,¡± Fir said quietly. ¡°Just take our chances and leave.¡±


    Serene shook her head. ¡°I keep telling you. We¡¯d be in the same situation that Mock says she would be in if she ran. Eras would track us down. And trust me, if we try to run, Basalt¡¯ll make us wish we¡¯d just been sold as slaves when he catches us. He lets Eras have free rein, and she¡¯s cruel. It¡¯s how he keeps his people from revolting against him.¡± She shivered.


    Kildare reached out and grasped her hand. Her fingers were cold. She looked up at him, eyes slightly too wide, nostrils flared.


    He squeezed her hand gently. ¡°So what do we do?¡±


    The spark in her eyes was dim. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Kildare pressed his lips together. He hated seeing Serene beaten like this. He twined his fingers between hers. He wasn¡¯t going to let this stop him. They¡¯d figure it out. Somehow.


    ¡°What¡¯s in that stupid box, anyway?¡± Mock muttered from her corner.


    ¡°They¡¯re collectors¡¯ items,¡± Fir said. ¡°That box is made by¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know, I know, but that in and of itself doesn¡¯t make any sense. Why are two Alfaren crime lords fighting over it? Are they really going to get into a war with each other just for a collector''s item?¡±


    ¡°I felt a strong thread of ley in that box,¡± he said. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know anything about that, would you?¡±


    She frowned. ¡°Not the puzzle box itself?¡±


    Kildare thought back to the buzzing ache that had rattled through him when he¡¯d touched the box. ¡°Fir says you can¡¯t bind ley to items like that.¡±


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s only partially right.¡± Mock swiped at her cheeks, brushing away the last of her tears, and glanced over at Fir. ¡°What about ley-gems?¡±


    Fir frowned. ¡°Ley-gems are like the puzzle boxes. There¡¯s some ley bound to them as a result of their creation.¡± He glanced at Kildare. ¡°It¡¯s the Knocken version of puzzle boxes. Gems sculpted into fine, impossible shapes using ley. But you¡¯d still be able to hold it. It would barely tickle a wyvern¡¯s ley-sensing ability.¡±


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    ¡°I know you two are telling me that it¡¯s impossible, but I¡¯m telling you, I felt a lot of ley in that box,¡± Kildare said. ¡°I¡¯m not wrong about this. So, for the moment, let¡¯s just accept that it actually is possible. Can we do that?¡±


    He glanced around the room, taking in his team¡¯s nods of agreement.


    Snitch said, ¡°Question is, what do we do about it?¡±


    Kildare smirked. ¡°I, for one, would like to know what is it we¡¯re really supposed to steal.¡±


    ¡°I feel the same way,¡± Serene said. ¡°And I don¡¯t really want to hand over something powerful to a crime lord¡ªOak or Basalt.¡±


    Everyone was looking at him.


    Kildare released Serene¡¯s hand. ¡°Let me think a minute.¡± He stepped to the side of the room, pacing back and forth, watching the shadows in the room flicker thanks to the candle and firelight.


    Everyone else settled back to where they were¡ªMock beside the fireplace, Serene perched on the back of the couch, Snitch leaning against the wall, Fir sitting on one arm of the couch. No one spoke. They all looked lost in their own thoughts. Kildare gnawed on the inside of his lip.


    Even if they did find out what the item was, what would they do with it? Maybe if it was as powerful as Fir seemed to think, they could hold it for ransom. Basalt would have to release Serene¡¯s contract and swear to let them go. But how to get to it without getting Mock and her daughter in trouble?


    Kildare ran his hand through his hair. ¡°Fir,¡± he said, ¡°out of curiosity, how hard is it to use ley to create puzzle boxes and ley gems?¡±


    Fir scratched his hair. ¡°Hard. The material has to be flawless, and the process takes a long time¡ªnot only because it¡¯s difficult to use ley to create something like that, but because it takes ley from the manipulator. And too much of that¡ª¡± He made a slashing motion across his throat.


    Right. Kildare vaguely remembered one of the thieves he grew up with losing their life to a sapper¡ªa ley-user who could pull ley from people. The problem with that was that ley was closely tied to someone¡¯s soul, and if a sapper or a manipulator pulled too much, it would break the person¡¯s soul and kill them. Thank the Aspects that sappers were rare.


    ¡°And what would be the purpose of a ley-gem?¡±


    Fir shrugged. ¡°Art? To show off? Some gems can maybe hover a bit, or fade a little, but they can¡¯t take on the full abilities of the ley they¡¯d bound to. Unless...¡±


    Fir raised his hand to his lips and tapped them. To anyone else it looked like a nervous habit, maybe something he¡¯d picked up from Mock, but Kildare recognized the subtle differences¡ªthe way Fir used all of his fingers, not just his index finger or thumb the way Mock did. He was calling for Kildare¡¯s attention.


    Fir dropped his hand to his side, and Kildare followed the motion. Fir quickly flashed the talk later sign.


    He had something he didn¡¯t want to say in front of the others?


    Kildare kept his arms loose by his sides but moved his fingers in the understood sign.


    The inklings of an idea niggled at the back of his mind. Kildare fiddled with the charm bracelet again as he resumed pacing.


    Finally, he stopped. ¡°I don¡¯t see a way to get the puzzle box without bringing Oak down on Mock,¡± he announced. ¡°We couldn¡¯t make a copy of it quickly enough.¡± He glanced at Serene. That was one of her areas of expertise.


    She shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think I could make a copy of a puzzle box without months¡¯ of notice. They¡¯re far too intricate.¡±


    Kildare nodded. ¡°But to me, it makes sense that Oak and Basalt both want whatever it is in the box. So, we make a replica of that, swap it out, and take the real thing to Basalt.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s not something that could break the world,¡± Fir said.


    Kildare raised an eyebrow at the phrasing. ¡°Sure,¡± he said hesitantly. Blight. What does he think is in that box?


    ¡°How do you propose to find out what it looks like? And to even be able to swap it in the first place?¡± Mock asked.


    ¡°This is where it gets dicey.¡± Kildare rubbed his hands at the back of his neck.


    Fir shrugged. ¡°Things are already dicey. Whatcha got?¡±

 Chapter 28: Fir

    Fir stood at the door to Kil and Serene¡¯s room. It was open, but the two wyverns hadn¡¯t noticed him yet.


    Kil sat on the window ledge, his legs hanging over the sill, head angled so he could see the sky. ¡°It would be cloudy tonight, and not for any of the nights we¡¯ve actually needed clouds,¡± he grumbled good-humoredly to Serene.


    She sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting the laces on her sandals. ¡°That¡¯s always how it is when you¡¯re on a deadline.¡± She set the shoes aside and leaned back, bracing her hands against the bed. ¡°Mmm.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get to look at you from this angle enough.¡± Serene¡¯s voice dropped to a husky lilt. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t mind taking your shirt o¡ª¡±


    All right, best get this over with before he heard something embarrassing. Fir knocked on the door.


    Serene¡¯s head whipped up, and a slight blush darkened her cheeks.


    Fir pretended not to notice. ¡°Can I talk to you two for a minute?¡±


    Kil turned, swinging his legs back into the room. ¡°Sure. Come in.¡±


    Fir glanced over his shoulder. Snitch was in the room he and Fir were sharing, but Fir couldn¡¯t see him from where he stood. He stepped into the smaller room. ¡°Should I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nah, leave the door open,¡± Kil said. Then he added, in a tone so low that Fir could barely hear him, ¡°Unless you really think this is something Snitch shouldn¡¯t hear.¡±


    Fir closed the door.


    Serene and Kil both raised their eyebrows. Fir wondered who had picked up the habit from whom. It wasn¡¯t really something he¡¯d ever noticed Kil doing before, but then again, he¡¯d grown up with the guy, so he guessed that he was probably blind to a lot of Kil¡¯s habits.


    ¡°All right then.¡± Kil spun around so his feet hung inside the room. ¡°What¡¯ve you got for me?¡±


    Fir sat on the trunk at the foot of the bed. He licked his lips, deliberately didn¡¯t look over at Serene. If Kil trusted her, he needed to, as well. But the fact that Basalt held her contract¡ªit just made him nervous. ¡°I remembered something while we were talking about the ley-gems. Just stories that Alfaren tell each other. I don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re true¡ªI¡¯d mostly forgotten about them, until we started talking about the ley-gems last night, and it made me remember a part of this.¡± He showed them the book he held.


    Serene raised an eyebrow. ¡°Legends of Jakan Roliwyn? Who even is that?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a Leremite hero. As in, he actually lived. There¡¯s historical proof of that. But some of the stories told about him are... fantastical.¡± Fir flipped the book open and started turning pages. ¡°Supposedly, Jakan Roliwyn is the one responsible for splitting apart the mountains that held back the sea in Lerem. It wasn¡¯t always half swamp¡ªmost of that used to be rich farmland. Early in his kingship, he was dethroned by a guy named Qeris¡ªDo¡¯orite, or Erminian, no one¡¯s really sure which. Jakan fought a great battle with Qeris at the seaside, and it¡¯s said that their battle tore the mountains and flooded Lerem.¡±


    ¡°Sounds... yeah,¡± Kildare said. ¡°You¡¯re right. That sounds fantastical.¡±


    ¡°Right, but here¡¯s where it gets interesting.¡± Fir turned the book so they could see the picture he¡¯d found, a print of an old woodcut. In it, a man stood on the slope of a mountain, clutching a stone in his fist. Wiggling, stylized ley lines emanated from the stone. He tapped the stone. ¡°The story goes that Roliwyn found what¡¯s known as a felsic stone. It¡¯s the only stone known to us that can actually hold ley as well as anything with a soul.¡±


    Serene leaned forward eagerly. ¡°And that would account for the amount of ley that Kil felt in the box?¡±


    Fir nodded.


    ¡°What¡¯s it look like?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s white, kind of glossy.¡±


    Serene glanced over to Kil. ¡°I¡­ might be able to replicate that.¡±


    Kil rubbed his temples. ¡°Felsic. How have I never heard of this before? I mean, not knowing something about ley, that doesn¡¯t surprise me. I¡¯ve never paid a ton of attention to it since I can¡¯t utilize it. But something that¡¯s rare, you¡¯d think I¡¯d have heard about it.¡±


    Fir shrugged. ¡°Like I said, most of the knowledge about it is just stories. I doubt I would¡¯ve thought of it, if I hadn¡¯t already been reading about Jakan. Most people don¡¯t actually think felsic stones exist. But¡ªlike you said earlier¡ªwe have to start considering the impossible here.¡±


    Kildare sighed. ¡°Well, hopefully, we¡¯ll be getting an answer soon.¡± He looked up, making eye contact with Fir. ¡°You¡¯re sure you¡¯re all right with our plan?¡±


    Fir swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. ¡°If this is a felsic stone, we can¡¯t let Oak or Basalt have it. What other choice do we have?¡±


    Kildare stood up and stretched his hand out. Fir grasped it, then Kildare pulled him forward into a hug, his free arm wrapping tightly around Fir¡¯s shoulders. Fir returned the embrace, slapping Kildare¡¯s shoulder gently.


    As soon as they stepped back from each other, Serene slipped between them and hugged Fir as well. ¡°From what the others have said, you¡¯ll do fine.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Serene.¡± Fir stepped back and grinned. ¡°This trust¡­it means a lot to me.¡± He tucked his book under his arm and turned to go, then said over his shoulder, ¡°Don¡¯t do anything I wouldn¡¯t do.¡±


    ¡°Fir!¡± Kildare said in exasperation.


    Fir swung the door shut behind him quickly. Something soft and heavy¡ªprobably one of the down pillows from the bed¡ªthudded into the door. Fir laughed and felt his heart rise a bit as he heard answering laughs from inside the room.


    ###


    A few hours later, the tension was back. Fir clutched the bedsheets under his hands. His entire body felt stiff from hours of tension. No matter how he tried to relax, no matter how many long, low breaths he took, every time he closed his eyes, he saw every possible way Kildare¡¯s madcap plan could go wrong.


    Some ways were even worse than going back into that cage in the slave market.


    He sighed and rolled to his side, deliberately putting his back to the window even though it made his skin crawl.


    Fir sighed and cradled his head on his pillow, watching the faint moonlight between the curtains shifting on the opposite wall over the other bed. Snitch wasn¡¯t sleeping in here tonight, so the bed was weirdly empty, the blanket and sheets lying in a tangled mess from last night¡¯s rest.


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    What he hadn¡¯t told Kil was the other name of the stone¡ªthe one that was slightly more well-known.


    Sapstone.


    If the puzzle box did indeed hold felsic, and that felsic held ley... None of the old stories about felsic were good. They always accompanied evil wizards and the world being broken. Sure, Jakan Roliwyn was remembered as a hero¡ªbut even the story where he fought with Qeris and broke the mountains claimed that he went temporarily insane with the power of the felsic stone.


    Something scratched against the outside wall.


    The moonlight on the wall opposite his bed shrank as one, then two shadows blocked the light.


    Fir stiffened and curled into a tight ball on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. His pulse pounded in his temples and fingertips. Every nerve of him was screaming for him to fight, to run, to yell for his friends. But this was Kil¡¯s plan. To get a look at the stone, this was what he had to do.


    A hand curled around his mouth, pressing a damp cloth tight to his nose and lips. Fir yelped and jerked. Whatever was on the cloth smelled sweet and sent his vision into a dizzying blur. He shoved upward, trying to shake off his assailant. The man clung to his shoulders. Fir clawed at his hands.


    The second intruder moved in front of him, catching his wrists. Fir kicked, weakly.


    That was all he had time to do before his vision swirled into darkness.


    ***


    He came to in a dimly lit room. The chair he was curled up in was overstuffed and plush so that he sank into the cushions. There was a disgusting taste in his mouth and his head pounded. Fir coughed and sat up, wincing, and looked around.


    The room was about the size of Mock¡¯s little suite, but it was furnished with overstuffed chairs and couches, all arranged in little groups of two or three, with plenty of room to walk between them. A fireplace, empty of all but white ash, stood on the wall beside Fir¡¯s chair. There was a pitcher and a pottery cup on the table next to him.


    Fir sat up and winced as his headache intensified. Curse Kil and his schemes. He looked into the pitcher. It was filled with water that, as he poured it into the cup, looked clear. It didn¡¯t smell either. Of course, Kil would be able to smell it better, but there was nothing that was off about the drink, so he chugged one cup and filled another to slowly sip.


    There was no one else around in the room, so he leaned back in his chair, clutching the cup with both hands and closing his eyes. The rough pottery under his fingers helped keep him grounded, helped him keep back the panic pushing at the back of his mind. It was all going according to plan so far, but as the museum heist had shown them, it only took one thing for the entire plan to be chaos.


    The door opened.


    ¡°Fir?¡±


    Even though she¡¯d been the one to set the plan in motion, the concern in Mock¡¯s voice sounded genuine. Fir opened his eyes and squinted. Mock stood at the doorway, clenching the door with white knuckles.


    Before he could answer, someone outside the room said, ¡°He¡¯s awake?¡±


    Mock was shoved aside as a burly Alfaren man entered the room. He marched up to Fir, looked him up and down, and then grabbed his arm, hauling him up to his feet.


    ¡°You look like you¡¯re well enough,¡± he said, pushing Fir toward the door.


    Fir tried to squirm free of his grip. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s this about? C¡¯mon, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    The burly Alfaren snorted as they pushed past Mock. ¡°She didn¡¯t tell you?¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t have time to say anything. I don¡¯t even know where I am!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not important. What¡¯s important is that you¡¯ve got some work to do.¡± The guard looked over his shoulder at Mock. ¡°You¡¯d better come along too, since you were the one who recommended him.¡±


    Fir clenched his hands. ¡°Mock!¡± The frustration in his voice was a perfect way to release some of the real frustration he¡¯d felt ever since Mock had shared her story.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry,¡± she muttered, looking down at the patterned rug under her feet. She must¡¯ve picked up on the real frustration underlying his tone.


    The Alfaren guard steered Fir done the hallway. They hadn¡¯t been in this section of the house last night and Fir didn¡¯t see anything he recognized. One side of the hallway was dotted with windows, and he caught glimpses of the rich yard beyond as they marched him past.


    At the end of the hallway, Fir caught a glimpse of a richly furnished, well-lit living area, but just before that, the Alfaren stopped and knocked on a closed door. A voice muttered something from within and the Alfaren pushed open the door.


    Two more Alfaren men sat in the dim room, one behind a simple desk and the other off to the side, immersed in a book. The Alfaren behind him planted his hand in the middle of Fir¡¯s back and pushed him into the room. Fir stumbled a few steps and stopped in front of the desk, hands involuntarily clenching.


    The Alfaren behind the desk was stockier than Basalt, and he wasn¡¯t missing any fingers. He didn¡¯t have needle marks up his arms either. He leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him and gazing over his fingers with moss-green eyes, sharp and cunning. Fir felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back. This guy looked clever. Would they be able to fool him?


    He sent a quick prayer up to the gods, just in case. Please let this work.


    ¡°So. You¡¯re Fir, one of Mockingbird¡¯s old associates.¡± The Alfaren looked around Fir. ¡°Get in here and close the door, Mockingbird. You¡¯re making the man nervous. And bring a chair for your friend here.¡±


    Mock obeyed, and Fir heard the latch click into place behind him. A second later, she slid a chair into place behind him, then retreated behind the desk, standing at the man¡¯s right hand. She fiddled with the beads in her hair.


    The Alfaren motioned for Fir to take a seat. ¡°Do you understand why you¡¯re here, Fir?¡±


    Fir shot a glare at Mock. ¡°I¡¯m assuming it has something to do with her.¡±


    In answer, the man reached under his desk and set the puzzle box in the middle of the desk, just out of Fir¡¯s reach. Fir stared at it, again captivated by the intricacy of the box. The vines almost seemed to sway in an unseen breeze. He couldn¡¯t discern any joins or seams in the thing¡ªit looked like one solid block of wood. His fingers itched to get hold of the box and begin to work on its mechanisms, to unlock the secret of what it held.


    ¡°This box¡ª¡± The Alfaren put his hand over the puzzle box¡ª ¡±contains something very valuable. But we cannot get to it despite our best efforts. I don¡¯t have much time to devote here, and our dear mutual friend Mock suggested you engage your¡­services.¡±


    ¡°My services?¡±


    ¡°She told me you were good with locks and puzzles of this sort.¡±


    Fir looked up, catching the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t come cheap, you know. I¡¯ve been working with Kildare Wingard for the last five years and that¡¯s gotten me used to a certain amount of luxury.¡±


    ¡°Of course, of course,¡± Oak said. He leaned his elbows on his desk. ¡°Let¡¯s say twenty goldmarks for opening the thing, eh? Does that sound fair?¡±


    Fir widened his eyes. Twenty goldmarks was not only fair but generous. He looked to Mock. She bit her lip and looked at her feet. Fir narrowed his eyes. ¡°Is this a trick?¡± he asked Oak.


    Oak raised one eyebrow. ¡°Do you have reason to think it would be?¡±


    ¡°It just doesn¡¯t seem like something someone¡¯d do, you know?¡± Fir said. ¡°Here I am, basically a rival, and you¡¯re just asking me to open this thing for you and accept twenty goldmarks for it? You know we were stealing the thing for Basalt, right? You don¡¯t think I¡¯d just go tell him where it was?¡±


    Oak raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you telling me that¡¯s what you plan to do?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Fir spluttered a laugh. ¡°Gods, no. I¡¯m not about to turn down gold right now. Kil¡¯s off with his lover and Snitch is pissed at all of us, so my future¡¯s about as solid as water at the moment.¡±


    Oak nodded to something over Fir¡¯s shoulder.


    The hair on the back of Fir¡¯s neck prickled, and he slowly, reluctantly turned. The other Alfaren, the one who had been reading, stood behind Fir, knife drawn and poised a handsbreadth away from the back of Fir¡¯s neck. The Alfaren knife wielder looked down at Fir, nodded, sheathed his knife, and stepped back to his chair, where he picked up his book and casually resumed reading.


    Fir felt another bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face.


    ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t accept the gold, I would¡¯ve still gotten my box opened, but you would¡¯ve done it at knifepoint and then Whisper there would¡¯ve stabbed you through the heart and dumped your body in the bay,¡± Oak said. He tapped the top of his desk. ¡°Sounds like the gold is the better bargain, eh?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Fir said quietly. ¡°I just¡­gift horses and all that.¡±


    Oak pushed the box over the desk to him.


    Fir¡¯s fingers tingled¡ªnot from ley, but from excitement¡ªas he picked up the box and ran his thumbs along the curves of the vines. The golden wood was as smooth as satin under his calloused fingers, even in the dips and whorls of the vines. He¡¯d held some fine things in his time as a thief, but never one as beautiful as this.


    Oak stood. ¡°Take all the time you need. We¡¯re in no rush.¡± He stepped around the desk and Fir¡¯s chair and walked toward the door. ¡°Mock, come along.¡±


    Mock scuttled after Oak. The door shut behind them, leaving the room silent as their footfalls faded away outside in the hall. Fir glanced to the side and found the Alfaren assassin still sitting in his chair, still seemingly engrossed in his book.


    A shiver spidered up Fir¡¯s back, and his hands shook as he turned the box, searching for a hairline crack, a bit of a scuff, anything that could tell him where to begin taking the box apart.


    As much as he¡¯d wanted to get his hands on the puzzle box, this part of the job couldn¡¯t be over soon enough.