The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 53: The Silver Conquest

Tonight I was putting on a show. But, ironically, that didn't mean I would be pretending to be someone I wasn't-- it meant I would have to be more myself than ever before. The Silvers wanted a figurehead, a mascot. The best person I could offer was Morane Laerhart, the Royal Thief herself.

Not Adina Eyro, as most people in Maenar still knew me. Not a low-level rebel, or even Roman's newest assassin. If I had gained any maturity in these last few weeks, as I had promised myself I would, tonight I had to lose it. The Silvers wouldn't be convinced by a half-hearted rebel, distracted by a futile revenge quest and calls from home, pretending to be an adult.

I had to be the kind of person I had most practice impersonating, because I'd been doing it for years. Confident and reckless. The kind of person people imagined a monarch should be. Because I knew that even rebels dedicated to tearing down the monarchy weren't immune to the lure of authority, or even the illusion of it. I could create that illusion.

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People started warily scouting out the large, decrepit building where the High Circle held their meetings as soon as the sun had set. Some just looked curious. Some were clearly kids on a dare. But the later it got, the more deliberate these scouts were, with sharp eyes and undisguised weapons. Word had reached the Silvers in time.

From my vantage point, I waited-- and waited, as the shadows around me condensed into nearly physical forms, and the city around me fell into a deep sleep, and the criminals who ran it woke up.

Finally, someone entered. Until now people had only paced around outside and scanned the interior from the doorway, but this man haltingly stepped into the center of the room, set down his lamp, and slowly turned on the spot, shoulders hunched like he expected to be spooked at any moment. After surveying the space thoroughly, he allowed himself to gradually relax.

I admitted myself a small smile, then called down, "So you're the lucky guy who gets to test out the trap?"

He emitted a panicked sound somewhere between a neigh and squeak and skittered a few feet at my voice. Jerking his head up, his darting stare swept across the beams that crisscrossed the half-open ceiling.

I was wedged comfortably in a pocket of shadows, camouflaged in my black clothing. It would take him a while to figure out where I was. Invisibility was a good look for me, I could almost hear Cara quip. My heart squeezed with homesickness. No-- no regrets. Criminals, like wolves, could smell hesitation. I made my voice into silk, smooth and flowing and concealing with every fold. "Relax, it's not really a trap. You can tell your buddies that and then you can all come in."

I could've sworn that even from my height I could see him gulp. I didn't blame him. My voice echoed down to the floor rather dramatically. Shakily, he called up, "That-- that sounds a lot like you're trying to lure us into a trap."

"Well, you can stand around debating the likelihood of that for a few more hours--" I tried to project the image of me examining my fingernails in boredom but complete unconcern regarding their actions. "--or you can skip that, come in, and find out what this is all about."

He muttered a string of syllables that might have been mashed together curses, then half-ran out the door. I rolled my eyes and rubbed my bare arms, hoping they wouldn't make me wait much longer. Summer, I realized, had turned to fall sometime recently, and the nights were chillier than I had anticipated.

There was shuffling and murmuring outside, and the glimmer of lights. A heavy pause. The nervous man reentered, hurrying into the circle of light left by his discarded lamp. He was shortly followed by more people and more lamps that were set down around the room until the floor was lit honey-gold.