Songbird

Chapter Fourteen - Thief

The next night, Kal prowled with the Hounds through the dark streets as they made their way to the first of the targets that Corvin had selected for them. They were in the noble district again, and their objective was the heirloom tiara said to have belonged to a beloved princess of Bellhaven who had lived centuries before.

They approached the manor from behind, on a street that was below the house itself. A rocky part of the hill led up to a rear terrace set with several tables and chairs, and a pair of double doors led inside. Lanterns illuminated some of the area, but much was still left in shadow that would allow Quin and Kal to sneak in undetected. Corvin, Leah, and Raven would act as lookouts outside.

Quin tapped Kal on the shoulder as they sidled up to the hill, the signal that he was ready to follow. Kal sprang up onto the rocks and began to climb, carefully placing each hand and foot until he was able to vault over the railing that encircled the terrace. At the top, he fastened his hook to the rail and lowered the rope for Quin, who followed just after him, his movements obviously practiced, footsteps silent on the stone. Kal guessed that the mercenary had done a fair amount of climbing himself.

Kal stood lookout while Quin examined the doors, using a set of picks to unlock them. With a faint click, the lock turned and Quin eased the door open with a light push, waiting for any reaction from within as Kal held his breath.

When there was no cry of alarm or investigating footsteps, the pair entered the house and found themselves in a cozy parlor, filled with plump couches and armchairs, shelves of books and trinkets, and a large cabinet to one side. A globe occupied one corner, and a guitar rested on one of the chairs. The room was dark, the sconces scattered throughout the room unlit as the two thieves crept onward. On the far side of the room was a display case formed of four panels of what Kal thought was glass that sat atop a slender stand. Within was the tiara.

It was forged of gold, rumored to be solid rather than plated, the metal twisted into graceful curves that ended in three soft points. A single stone was set just beneath the larger central point, a giant ovular sapphire that was an inky abyss in the darkness. Kal couldn't imagine what it must be worth. Even the coins used in the city were somewhat foreign to him—back home, people mostly bartered or traded for goods and services, making money something of a rarity.

Up close, the display case actually shimmered and distorted, more of fog than glass, causing the tiara to ripple as if he was looking from the corner of his eye, not quite able to focus on it. To the naked eye, the case wasn't secured in any way. Quin produced the ghostblade with a wink, then stabbed it into the top of the case, where it stuck as if meeting a physical barrier. A moment later it winked out with a dull whump that Kal felt as much as he heard.

But Quin didn't take the tiara yet. Instead, he passed the ghostblade through the air around it, searching, Kal supposed, for any magical traps or alarms. It seemed there were none, as he sheathed the blade and placed the tiara in a bag padded with bundles of cloth, slinging it over his shoulder.

Quin shut the door behind them as they exited the same way that they had come, vaulting the terrace railing and hopping down the hill to rejoin the others. Every slight noise grated on Kal's frayed nerves as they made their way back to the Water Dancer, being careful to stay near the buildings and pass through back alleys to remain hidden from the patrols of guards that occasionally passed on the streets. He felt as if he could breathe for the first time all night when they finally made it back, collapsing gratefully into his bed.

But despite his exhaustion, it took him some time to fall asleep. He felt filthy, guilt making his ears burn. Was he the type of person that would skulk around another's home while they slept, slinking off with their precious heirlooms? That person wasn't the son that Mum and Da had raised. Wren had told him that he hadn't changed. But what if she was wrong?