6th of Eylestre, Continued

Boots appeared, big, black, and gleaming with patent-shine, moving to the gas sconce beside the door.

I winced as the raspy gritch of a spark striker followed, and the room was bathed in vivid unforgiving light. The quick, precise economy of the action spoke of habit – Larosh Razhan was right there, not even an arm's length away, walking around in his study.

I exhaled slowly through my nose.

My fingers tugged my infuser cartridge from its pocket in the sleeve of my jacket.

The boots strode around the long couch and headed to the desk. There was a creak of springs as Razhan sat down in his chair. The scrape of a drawer. The faint tapping of a pen nib against the glass of the inkwell.

My heartbeat was galloping so hard I could feel it moving the collar of my black silk shirt.

I stared up at the rough burlap bottom of the long couch. Slow and even.I had to keep breathing slow and even or I would start gasping. Or worse, pass out.

Razhan was still writing several minutes later.

The burlap smelled like dust. There was a small hole in the weaving above my nose. 

Was any part of my cloak sticking out from under the long couch?

Had I rehung King Alfeonides straight?

Just my luck the great Northside King would choose that moment to start a life chronicle... or an epic... maybe it was a love letter. I chewed my lower lip. If he sat there much longer, the moon would rise high enough to hit the southern side of the house, and all of the beautiful shadows I could hide in on the way back down would be gone.

Suddenly, the scribbling stopped, and there was a snick of something clipping shut. He had closed his inkwell. His chair creaked, there was some shuffling of papers, and then he got to his feet.

My breath stuttered in my lungs. 

He didn't come around his desk. There was a rustle of fabric. The curtains. Was he looking at something? Me? 

I tilted my head, straining to keep track of his position, my line of sight limited to the narrow band of space under the couch. 

All the warmth drained from my face. He was moving, walking to that smaller south-facing side window. Had I remembered to lock it? What if there was a smudge from the gumwax? 

If he turned around, he would be facing the long couch from the front and not the side. Ever so carefully, I eased toward the back of the couch.

More rustling of fabric, then those boots crossed the room to the safe.  

Every last nerve in my body screamed at me to run. I lay perfectly still instead, glued to the carpet beneath me. Wait! Be quiet and wait!

The picture frame thumped against the wall.

Silence.

There wasn't enough air. Quiet! Quiet!

Something clicked. He was opening the safe.

Eternity stretched taught. Steady. Stay.

Finally, there was a whir of gears and a louder, more definite slide of bolts in the lock.

Those big black boots entered my field of vision again. Quickly, I wriggled back toward the center of the couch as he passed mere inches from my head. Then he was at the gas sconce.

The light faded, then blinked out altogether. The door opened and shut, followed by the metallic clink of a key in the lock, and then darkness. Beautiful, wonderful, lovely darkness.

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I inhaled.

Wait. Wait... be sure.

Footsteps receded down the hallway.

Wait...

The guards began talking, their voices lower now, their conversation full of long pauses.

I scooted out from under the long couch and pushed myself to my feet. 

Razhan had drawn the drapes. How convenient. 

Swiftly, I slipped across the room to the desk, going over it by the light of the glimmer.

Nothing new.

Back to the safe. A few seconds later, I had the dial knob all the way off, and was threading my narrow-nosed wire clippers through the gap at the base of the number wheel. I snipped the alarm trigger inside, infinitely glad Orrelian had insisted on making me learn the process blindfolded.

There was no way to soften the thump of the lock bolts, but the guards didn't stop talking, so I drew the safe all the way open and set to work taking silvos.

Three bundles of five thousand marks in crisp new notes.

A set of fake travel papers.

And last but not least, a small, unmarked ledger.

No letter. He must have taken that with him.

With one last listen, I closed everything back up, rehung King Alfeo, policed my traces, and doused my glimmer.

Then I watched through the curtains until the guard about-faced and started off in the other direction before I stepped out onto the ledge and locked the window behind me with a length of waxed string. The cool night air caressed my face as I crab-walked to the veranda roof again.

It took five thirty-count rounds to get down to the garden and across the lawn, and then, miraculously, I was pelting down the hill and ducking beneath the welcoming branches of the oak tree. Arramy was waiting by the wall as I came to a panting, shaky-legged halt.

Without a word, he held out a water flask.

I nodded my thanks and took it, swigging from it while pacing in a haphazard circle under the tree, trying to cool down while we waited for Orrelian to finish his last round.

The guard Arramy had drugged was still out cold, though now he reeked of liquor. With any luck, the empty rice whiskey jar resting loose in his limp hand would be enough of an explanation for his condition that the other guards wouldn't realize he had been incapacitated on purpose.

Orrelian came over the hill, then, jogging down to the oak.

"Right, lass, up ya go," he whispered, bending to place the lantern next to the unconscious guard.

Heaving a sigh, I picked my way through the brush and grabbed the rope we had left dangling from a branch of the oak tree – a branch that happened to overhang the wall separating Razhan's parklike property from the street.

I bounced on the balls of my feet, preparing to jump up to get a higher handhold, only to gasp in surprise when Arramy stepped up behind me, wrapped his hands around my hips, and boosted me halfway up the wall as if I weighed nothing.

Instantly, my face was ablaze, that familiar flicker of heat lighting off in my middle. I ground my teeth and kept going, pulling myself up hand over hand, more annoyed by my own reaction than by the fact that he thought I needed help. I gained the top of the wall faster, and that was all that really mattered.

I checked to make sure Razhan's thug was walking the other way along the street below, then slipped over the top of the wall, dangling from my aching hands for a heartbeat before dropping silently to the cobblestones. A pale green light flashed in the shadows of the storefront awning across the street, and I darted toward it, reaching Rugga and Ynette just as the guard turned and began coming back.

Breathing hard, I sagged against the paneling of the shop door. My heart was still pounding, my mouth gone dry. Neither Orrelian nor Arramy had followed me over. Right on cue, those old suspicions began bubbling up. What if Arramy had given us away? What if he was just playing along again, making us trust him until he got what he wanted? What if he had been lying about his mother, and was going to trade us all for her?

I licked my lips. Rolled my shoulders. Nothing did any good. Resentment and anger rode hot on the tail of that suspicion, and no matter what I tried to tell myself, I couldn't shove it all away. A little more clung tight every time, adding itself to the frigid-fire knot building in my chest, mixing badly with the unsettling amount of guilt and regret already there.

The guard reached the far end of his patrol and wheeled around, his lantern bobbing as he started toward the gatehouse.

He passed the tree.

A few seconds later, Orrelian and Arramy vaulted over the top of the wall and dropped to the street, crossing swiftly to join the rest of us. Then we left, rounding the corner into the alley, heading for the wharves and Orrelian's rowboat.

The whole way there, I expected to hear the growl of the Northside King's horseless engines coming after us, but the only sounds were of the city nightlife – bawdy music and loud laughter from the gaming dens and late-hour public houses; the occasional rumble of wooden wheels on cobblestone; shouting from a fighting ring set up at the end of a backstreet.

Then we were in the boat with the river curling along the prow as Arramy and Rugga manned the oars, and the lights of Vreis Island were drawing closer and closer, coalescing out of the mist, solidifying into globes of sulfur yellow along the cutwaters of the pier.

Against all odds, we had made it.

Now, hopefully, I had found something we could use.

~~~

"An' this girl! This girl right 'ere, what looks so innocent an' talks so genteel, but who 'as more guts than many a man I've met, welcome ta the crew!"

I rolled my eyes and lifted my glass, returning Rugga's toast, only to have foam slosh over the rim and drip down the front of my blouse as she clapped me roughly between the shoulder blades.

Ynette nodded. "I'll drink ta that."

Orrelian lifted his glass and offered a small smile, though his eyes strayed to the timekeep above the door.

Arramy was regarding me quietly from the other end of the kitchen table. He hadn't touched his drink.

My gaze collided with his for a long, uncertain heartbeat before I lowered my head, staring into the amber depths of my beer. I hadn't touched my drink either. The whole night still seemed unreal. Yes, I had broken into the Northside King's safe, hidden right under his very nose, and gotten away. Yes, we had all performed our roles beautifully. Yes, it did in fact seem that Arramy hadn't given us up. That didn't make it a victory. We didn't even know what was on my silvocaptures, and Marin, Hedwyn, Erdan and Cog weren't back yet. There hadn't been any word from them, though technically, not hearing about them from Songbird at the Magi dispatch office was a good thing. Still, they should have returned by now.

Drinking seemed premature.

I found myself wishing for some of Raggan's tea.

Suddenly, there was a cavernous clang from the back room, and then footsteps on the tunnel stairs, and Erdan's voice saying, "Wonderful, they're all here."

Arramy got to his feet, moving out of the way as the other team came trooping down the hallway from the tunnels and into the kitchen, all of them sweaty, dirty, and exhausted.

Marin peeled off her dark knitted cap, her lips pursed into an angry curl, while Hedwyn strode all the way through the kitchen to collapse onto one of the couches in the sitting room.

Erdan stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, while Cog just looked anywhere but at Orrelian and skirted the table to lean against the counter next to Arramy.

Orrelian's raspy, "Well?" broke the pall of silence.

Frustrated, Erdan let out a breath through his nose, then shook his head. "We didn't even get close. It was a madhouse. They're gearing up for something big. More guards than I've ever seen the Northsides muster. Cog got spotted trying to get in through the back and wound up with goons on his tail... We shook them, but it took an hour."

Marin poured herself a glass from the barrel of bootleg on the counter. "How did you do?"

Orrelian held up the tube of glass disks from my silvocapture, then slid them across the table to her. "Ye've got work ta do."

Erdan and Marin both turned to stare at me.

Hedwyn snorted.

I ducked my head and took a sip of my beer.

.............................................................