Took me long enough, didn't it? Man.
Chapter is dedicated to Faith, who is the sole person responsible for getting me writing again. Much love to her, mwah.
Enjoy.
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Chapter Five
Plans in Motion
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Cassandra felt better than she had in weeks.
The day after her heist dawned bright and clear, with sweet crisp air that came about often in the early spring. She still shivered slightly; warm days in Tortall were still cooler than warm days in Syene.
Cass moved through the streets without making herself noticeable in the crowd. She noticed an undertone of concealed conversations that was stronger than normal, and sauntered close to a cluster of women to hear what they were talking about.
" –woke, for the cold air can rouse a body faster than the gods. The window was broke and Lord Udell realized he'd been robbed proper!" Cass smiled and turned away, leaving the chattering women behind. They continued talking. "Everything in his treasure room was nicked, even through the spells he's got! And the spells not even be touched!"
Cass continued walking, no particular destination in mind. A heavy leather purse bounced against her leg at every step. Knowing that as soon as word got out, pawning the stolen treasures could prove disastrous, she had traded them in as early as the shop opened, and filched the receipt to make sure no one could trace her.
And so she drifted down the streets of Corus, the only one who knew the truth of the story that rippled along beside her.
-----
Nick Thatcher sat in his room at the Soaring Falcon. He balanced a knife point-down on his right index finger, his thoughts chasing themselves around his head.
A knock on the door disturbed his solitude. Nick flipped the knife into the air, snatched it by the handle with his left hand, and slid it back into his wrist sheath before shouting, "Who is it?" Better safe than dead.
"Emmit," came the voice.
"Come on in," Nick called, withdrawing the knife and beginning to play with it again. Emmit opened the door and stepped into the room. "What have you got for me?" Nick asked cheerfully.
"We've got the pawn shop he went to," Emmit declared. "Or should I say she?"
Nick's jaw dropped. "It's a girl?" he said incredulously.
"What, did you think only a man could pull it off?" Emmit asked him, grinning.
"Well, no… but yes. I mean, the last female thief who could hit a job that big would have to be… Alinda, way back when my pa was a lad. There's no girl in this city that could ever, in a thousand lifetimes, pull Udell's loot and not get caught. I mean, there are no traces! It's almost like a ghost did it!" Nick explained.
"Not quite a ghost," Emmit pointed out. "Ghosts don't have descriptions. For that matter, ghosts don't need food, or money, so why would a ghost steal in the first place?"
Nick ignored the last part of his friend's speech. "We've got a description?" he said, voice unreadable, although Emmit could read the eagerness in his eyes.
"That we do. She went to Yetlin's place, first thing this morning; she's got experience to know that a lookout would be kept after word got out. She turned in everything she hauled, but she didn't pull up her hood, so Yetlin got a good long look at her," Emmit told his king.
"That shows you one other thing," Nick said thoughtfully. "She's a foreigner. All my rogues know Yetlin is in our loop. Someone from Corus would have gone to one of the Palace pawnshops."
Emmit shrugged. "Whatever the cause, we've got a solid description. Reddish-brown hair halfway down her back, gray eyes, thin-boned nose, pale-faced but darkly tanned…" he looked at a sheet of parchment he held and continued. "Too skinny, moves quickly, about five-six."
Nick was amused. "Yetlin can tell you all that?"
Emmit just looked at him. "He's not our man for nothing. He's good."
"You trust him, so I trust him. Get out a message to everyone. If they see anyone who matches that description that they don't recognize, have her followed. Tell them to grab the first rogue they see and have him come to you and tell you where to go. You go get Yetlin and stay at the Falcon. If anyone comes, you and Yetlin go with him and see if it's her. If it's her, get her. Bring her to me," Nick said rapidly.
Emmit didn't even blink through Nick's confusing orders. Years of living in close quarters with him had given Emmit a precise mind for details. "And you will be?"
Nick snapped the dagger into the sheath. "I'll be out looking for her. If you find her first, bring her to my room. We'll see how good of a thief she is by tomorrow morning."
"What do you mean?"
"If she pulls another one tonight like she did last night, with everyone looking for her and all the guards on every money stash in the city tripled, she'll be something to reckon with. Otherwise–" he moved to the door, cat-quiet– "It's just dumb luck." He slid out the door silently, leaving Emmit to carry out his orders.
-----
Cass slid into a booth at the Iron Horse Tavern, looking forward to a mulled mead – strong, but not enough to dull her senses.
She had spent the day in a state of contented wandering. Her newly acquired money allowed her to buy a hearty lunch and a gorgeous new dagger. Now she would finish her nearly perfect day with another sound meal. Cass closed her eyes, savoring the memory of a stomach filled with food.
"Can you believe it? And it being Lord Udell an' all!" The female voice drifted over from the next booth.
Smiling wryly, Cass shook her head. It's been almost a day! she thought. Can't they give it up?
"And did you hear who it was? I heard it straight from Emmit, who heard it from His Majesty!" A second female voice chimed in.
Cass froze, staring straight ahead. An irrational, icy terror surged through her veins, lodging in her head. The world spun before her eyes. The sensible part of her mind knew that there was no way they could know, but her reaction was to take off. She forced herself to stay put.
"I did hear! Poor Slider. He'll have to hide for weeks!" The two women tittered.
Cass frowned. Who was Slider, and why was he being credited with what she had done?
"Slider'll have to keep hidden," laughed one woman. "I hear my lord Provost is keeping an eye out."
Cass's good mood evaporated. She had her pride, after all! I'll not have another stealing my fame, she thought heatedly, then smiled. Even if no one knows it was me.
A servingmaid approached her, but Cass slid out from behind the table with an apologetic smile. She had more important things to do.
Cass brought a warm turnover from a street vendor and ate it while sitting under a tree. Although she was capable of extremely quick thinking on her toes, strategizing was not her strong suit.
One thing was clear. She needed to pull another job, as big as last night's. Apparently she had chosen some notoriously wealthy man to steal from; well, she would just have to pick another.
The question was, how would she find that next one?
Whoever she chose, she would have to do it tonight. Tonight, because this Slider would be lying low and there was no way he could be credited again. Tonight, because the nobles wouldn't expect her to strike again so soon. Tonight, because if she waited, she might lose her nerve.
Sighing, Cass stood up. She wiped her fingers on the paper that had wrapped her food and looked around for a waste bin.
She finally spotted one, across the wide avenue. Crossing quickly, she easily tossed the ball of paper and watched it sail into the bin.
As she turned away, she glanced at the sign hanging above the door.
She froze.
Turning back, she stared at the sign, then smiled.
Wolfric's Protection Spells: When you need the best.
-----
"Any sign of her?" asked Nick crossly.
"None, Majesty. But maybe we're not looking in the right places," admitted Emmit. They were in Nick's rooms at the Soaring Falcon.
"The right places?" Nick repeated. "Where in the Black God's Realms are we looking, then? We're rogues! We know this city beter than anyone, and if we can't find one paltry girl-child–"
His tirade was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in or get out!" Nick yelled irritably.
A man pushed the door open just far enough for his head. "Majesty, we found your bird," he said quickly, using the thieves' cant.
"There, I told you we'd do it! And you doubted our men," Nick said accusingly.
Emmit sighed. "I'll go fetch her?"
"No, wait. Where he she?" he asked the man.
"Loungin' about outside the high-end protection spell shop. Doesn't know we're there."
"The spell show," Nick said thoughtfully. "She must be planning another steal. Emmit," he began, then stopped. He looked pointedly at the man's head, still poking through the door.
The rogue took the hint and vanished. He had no wish to be part of the king's strategizing.
"Follow her," Nick said bluntly. "Take Lightsteps and Uneven Peter and follow her. If she's going to rob another, let her. And when she's finished, and alone, bring her to me. If she's caught…" He shrugged. "She's on her own. She's not one of ours."
Emmit bowed. "Well thought. I'll be off, then," he said, and exited the room.
As it turned out, Lightsteps was the rogue who had located the girl, so he was already there. Emmit ran into Uneven Peter's lady, Vee, on the way on the way to the protection spell shop and told her to tell Peter to meet him there.
At the moment, Emmit and Lightsteps pretended to drink on a doorstep as they watched the girl, who sat under a tree and watched the shop.
"She done anythin'?" sounded a third voice.
Emmit's instinct was to jump, but he held himself still, giving no indication he'd been caught unawares. "Why can you can move so quiet, Peter?" he asked conversationally.
Uneven Peter smiled, moving into view. One of his legs was shorter than the other, causing a limp, but he and Lightsteps were the two best sneaks in the Court of the Rogue — next to Emmit and the king.
"The two words sound good together," he explained.
"The bird looks like she's about to fly," remarked Lightsteps. Emmit and Peter turned casually, so as not to attract attention.
The girl, their quarry, had stirred. She stood up, stretched, and strolled, seemingly aimless, down the street.
"Any reason?" Emmit inquired.
"Lord 'n' Lady Wilseve just came out of the spell-shop."
"Indeed? Well, the girl has taste. Now let's not lose her, shall we?" Emmit said, nudging his companions.
They followed her down the street.
-----
Cass paused to look at a necklace from a street vendor, squinting in the fading light as she made sure she knew where the man and his lady were.
She was relieved that her plan had worked so well; she had half expected the shop to be closed, and no one ever going in or out. But luck had prevailed; two obviously wealthy patrons left the shop after she had waited scarcely half an hour.
Cass sent a prayer to the Being the ensure the Divinity's goodwill and providence, and a quick thank you to the patron god of thieves; though she hadn't heard any talk of him, there was always such a god in cities like these.
Now the couple that had emerged from the shop were making their slow, conspicuous way home. All she had to do was follow them like a lost dog and she would have her opportunity.
It took the pair nearly an hour to wander home. Cass watched with barely concealed delight as they left the upper class estates behind and continued into the section full of manors where the truly elite dwelled.
Finally, the lord and his lady entered a manor. Cass, by now the only person on the street, furtively made her way to the outside of the walls and settled herself under a windowsill to wait for nightfall. Catching herself yawning, she decided to take a small nap, trusting herself to wake in enough time to complete her steal.
Hours later, she roused herself from a dreamless sleep. Cass scowled as she checked the moonrise, realizing that she had overslept and there were three hours at the most before sunrise.
No matter, Cass thought. I'll be done by then.
She crept to the window. Reaching into her belt purse for a pair of gloves, she soundlessly pulled them on, squinting at the pane of glass.
Attempting the same thing she had done last time, Cass tried to pry the glass from the mortar, but soon realized she would get nowhere. Unlike Lord Udell, whoever lived here had no money troubles at all; the pane was true metal, nigh unbreakable.
Stymied, Cass stepped back from the window, her hands on her hips. She walked slowly around the house, searching for a way in The door was too risky — breaking it down was too loud, and impossible given her tools. Unhinging it was equally unlikely. She hadn't yet been able to find a good set of lockpicks in this foreign city, which also narrowed her options considerably.
Continuing to pace back and forth along the side of the house, Cass looked in the windows. A kitchen, settled down for the night, what appeared to be a library, bookshelves lining the walls, a sitting room, the fire grate sooty and unused.
Cass paused suddenly. She turned back to the sitting room window, studying the fireplace. Stepping away from the manor, she looked thoughtfully upwards.
-----
Uneven Pete was in shock.
"She can't climb that wall! 'Tis twenty foot high, with naught but a few outcroppings of stone!"
Emmit was unimpressed. "She hasn't climbed it yet, remember. She's only prepared."
The three men were watching her from the roof of a neighboring building. They fell into silence, watching Cass toss a rope, with a hook on the end, up to the roof. Uneven Pete fell into deeper and deeper amazement, muttering, "No way on the gods' earth…"
The girl was obviously quite skinny, and her lightweight body flew up the rope. She wriggled as she pulled herself onto the roof, then padded to the chimney. They watched her peer down the gaping hole, but were too far to see her triumphant smile as she correctly judged the width. The stupid lord and his lady enjoyed a wide, impressive fireplace, and it would be their downfall.
Cass disappeared down the chimney, and the men waited for the alarm to be called.
Forty minutes later, there were still no guard-spells going off, no alarm being shouted. The girl had not returned, but nor had she been caught.
Emmit roused himself, and his companions, prodding them in their shoulders. "Right then," he muttered. "Let's get ready to nab her if she comes out."
Shaking their heads in disbelief, Lightsteps and Uneven Peter made their way down to the ground again, taking up a position on each side of the rope that Cass had left hanging. Emmit stayed on the roof, ready to signal to them that she was coming.
Barely ten minutes hence, the two men saw Emmit give the signal and duck down, so as not to be seen. The rope started moving, and they could just hear the girl's noises of exertion as she lowered herself, trying to be as quiet as possible.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, they grabbed her by the shoulder and the arm. Only her training kept Cass from shrieking with alarm — though her shout would have been muffled by the three jewel-heavy necklaces clamped between her teeth.
Emmit vaulted over the roof, hooking her rope with a device he had rigged and sliding to the bottom. He flipped the grapple up and over, and started wrapping up the rope. "We've had a hard time finding you, miss," he told her calmly, taking the necklaces from her and examining them. He shook his head in helpless admiration. "Beauties, all three." Eyeing Cass thoughtfully, he said, "I'm sure the King will be quite interested to meet you."
Cass only had time to widen her eyes in horror before two men on either side lifted her bodily and started walking with grim purpose in the direction of the city.
-----Well, there you have it. I hope it was worth the wait. And if you want more… just hold tight. I'm know exactly where this fic is going and I'm really going to try and finish it.
And out of curiosity, if you've read my fic "Search for the Six," tell me in a review or email if you'd be interested in seeing that redone, now that I'm two years older and a better writer.
-Lady Kate