Page 9

Chapter

Five

ARLON

Cold water drips from the edge of my hood, and I draw back under the awning of a shoemaker’s shop to escape the worst of the downpour.

The light drizzle that’s been wetting the streets of Ultrup all day has turned into a nasty, persistent rain, and to say I’m regretting my choices right now would be an understatement.

I should’ve listened to Major Strahl and found another inn for the night.

If I had, I could be sitting in a warm taproom right now, sipping from a mug of mulled wine and listening to whatever entertainment they brought in for the evening.

Taprooms are always lively when the weather turns sour.

Guests and locals alike crowd in to share the inviting warmth.

My oldest friend and mentor, Ozork, always said my impulsiveness would kill me someday.

Tonight might not be lethal, exactly, but I’m not sure this much water and cold is beneficial to anyone.

I fold my arms across my chest and swallow a groan as a trickle of icy rainwater flows from my cheek down into the collar of my tunic, sending a shiver through me.

Enough is enough. I don’t know what I was thinking, coming to the Ravens’ mansion, but that nagging feeling wouldn’t go away.

The more I thought about it, the more certain I became that the thieves must have noticed me around here and followed me to my inn.

They might even belong to Damen’s crew. If that’s true, Major Strahl might finally have the proof he needs to raid this place, but only if I catch the thieves and prove without a doubt that they’re the culprits.

So I made the rash decision to cancel dinner with my friends and come here instead.

I walked in circles for an hour, ducking into alleyways and watching the rooftops.

Finally, I was certain I wasn’t being followed, unless the thieves could turn themselves invisible.

I’d been careless before, assuming they wouldn’t target me, but tonight was different.

When I took my place in this entryway, hidden in the shadows, I settled in for a long wait.

The place has been buzzing with activity all evening. At first, I thought the Ravens were preparing for an event of their own, but the carriages that have drawn up to the front door tell me they’re leaving in numbers.

“Fucking unbelievable.”

I hunch my shoulders and pull deeper under the awning. I’ve wasted hours tonight watching this place, and they’re all leaving? I peer through the rain, trying to spot whichever one of Strahl’s people is on duty. They’ll likely follow the carriages to see what this is all about.

I want nothing more than to return to the inn, get a hot dinner, hang my cloak by the fire, and give myself a chance to dry off. But if I move now, someone will notice me, and all my stealthy maneuvers will be in vain. So I wait, resisting the urge to growl at them to hurry..

The first carriage pulls away from the front door, the horses nickering softly.

They’re a fine pair—tall, glossy, well-fed—and despite my dislike of the gang, I have to commend their driver Both animals wear leather rain covers, protecting them from the weather.

The carriage wheels clatter over the cobblestones, and the hanging lanterns sway gently.

Just a little longer.

Two more carriages stand ready nearby. I shift my feet, impatient. The moment they turn the corner…

Something flickers at the edge of my vision. A shift in shadow. I would’ve missed it, if not for the tension coiling in my gut.

It could be a cat.

I dismiss the thought instantly. Not tonight. Every stray cat in Ultrup has found a dry place to sleep. It must be the thieves. My heart pounds faster. I scan the rooftops, searching for confirmation.

Earlier, when I circled the district to shake off potential pursuers, I’d studied the buildings—stone structures, three stories tall at least. No easy access.

But one building stood out, a smaller annex at the row’s end, a barber’s shop frequented by the city’s wealthiest men.

That’s where I’d climb, if I were trying to get to the rooftops.

Now that I suspect the thieves are working tonight, all thoughts of the warm taproom evaporate from my mind. I want these carriages to fucking move. I need to get to that shop, now, before I lose the only lead I’ve got.

This is my only opportunity. I know it deep in my bones. If I fuck up tonight, I might never get another chance.

The second carriage lurches into motion. Blood thrums in my ears in anticipation.

It’ll be dangerous, especially working alone.

If the crew is skilled and used to moving as one, they’ll outmaneuver me.

Worse, I’ll be at a disadvantage up there.

I’m heavier than any human. Orsha, our trainer, had us climbing cliffs and trees in all weather, but those didn’t have slippery shingles and no handholds.

All it would take is one misstep. One shove from a terrified thief.

And it would be the last fall I ever take.

Backup. I need backup.

Strahl’s guard, whoever he assigned to watch the mansion, must be nearby. But before I can find him, the third carriage starts to roll. I press myself tighter into the shadows.

A moment later, a figure bursts from the alley across the street, a tall woman with a curly black hair rushing after the departing carriage. She sprints, boots splashing through puddles. Just before it turns the corner, she leaps, grabs the rear luggage rack, and hauls herself up.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

There goes my backup. Whoever that was, she must’ve concluded she could never follow the carriages on foot, not in this weather. I might have done the same if my mission aligned with hers. But I’m no longer part of the team.

There’s nothing else to do. I duck my head and run for the other side of the street, where I’ll be less visible to the thieves on the roof.

Then I put on a burst of speed and dash to the barber’s shop, which has long since closed for the night.

The scent of soap still lingers in the air as I round the building.

It would’ve been better to take a running leap, like that guard did earlier, but there’s not enough room.

I use the window ledge of the neighboring building to haul myself up instead.

The roof of the barber shop is flatter than those of the surrounding houses.

That makes it easier for me to roll onto, but it also doesn’t reach very high, which presents my next problem.

The side facade of the building in front of me looms in the darkness, and when I look up, rain pelts my face, obscuring my vision.

I won’t need a push to die tonight. The weather and gravity will take care of it, I’m sure.

I swallow a growl of frustration and unpin my cloak.

I’ll be soaked through by the time I make it up there, and I don’t need the weight of sodden wool dragging me down.

I pull the coil of rope from the cloak’s inner pocket and tie one end around my waist. The other reason I chose this route to access the roof is the wrought-iron flower boxes decorating the windows.

The flowers in the small troughs are mostly dead now, but those iron frames seem fastened into the stone itself.

Not strong enough to support my full weight, maybe, but hopefully they’ll help break my fall if I lose my footing.

I loop the rope in my hands and secure a climbing clip to it.

It’s similar to one of Torren’s, an invention he came up with long before we left the Stonefrost Clan lands to make the long trek to what would become our new kingdom.

In the mountains, a contraption like this saved countless lives, even though the older generation, including King Trak, complained that we were growing soft because we wanted assurances that we wouldn’t plummet straight off a cliff.

Since our new clan set up a trade route to Ultrup a decade ago, the wares from our forge have made their way into human lands. It only took me three tries visiting the local blacksmiths to find one who’s been copying my friend’s designs and selling them as his own.

Now it’s time to see if I remember how to do this correctly.

I reach for the first wooden beam jutting out between the stones and pull myself up.

Every surface is slick with rain, and by the time I reach the first window, I’m grateful I made the effort to buy the clips.

I fasten the first around the iron window box and tug on it.

It doesn’t budge, which bodes well, but that doesn’t mean it would hold the force of my falling body.

Another few minutes leave me huffing in relief as I narrowly avoid slipping.

My fingers ache from the strain, but I have the second clip in place.

At the third window, I wish I’d written a letter to my family before undertaking this incredibly stupid endeavor.

But I’ve made it this far, so I can’t stop now.

Before I haul myself over the rafters and the edge of the roof, I pause to breathe.

The thieves will surely have a lookout on the rooftops.

If I flounder around like a fish out of water, they’ll notice me.

Orcs are well-trained to hide in the forest, but I’ll be completely exposed up there.

Even in the dark, there’s no hiding my bulk.

But there’s nothing for it. If I want to catch this crew in the act, I need to move.

I secure the last clip and send a prayer to the gods and all my ancestors that this won’t be the last thing I do.

Then I grip the edge of the roof and lift myself slowly, poking my head over first to see if the lookout is waiting for me.

I can’t see anyone. I’m still a couple of houses away from the Ravens’ mansion, but I’d have expected at least one member of the thieving crew to stand watch on this side of the street, ready to alert their companions if any of the carriages returned suddenly.

With as little noise as possible, I haul myself up and crawl forward, staying low to the rain-slick tiles.

I untie the rope from around my waist and secure the end to the first gable I see.

I’ll have to descend somehow, and I’m not about to free-climb in this weather.

I edge up to the ridge of the first roof and peer over, squinting against the rain splashing in my face. Still nothing.

I slide over, careful not to dislodge any tiles. I have no idea if the people below are home, or if they use their attic at all. With this downpour, I hope my footsteps are muffled, but I still don’t want to raise any alarm. That’s a sure way to scare the thieves off.

I crest the second ridge without spotting anyone, and doubt creeps in.

What if I imagined the shadow overhead? It’s raining hard.

My eyes might’ve played tricks on me. The longer I think about it, the more certain I am that I’ve messed up—and badly.

The thieves would wait for better weather, wouldn’t they?

If I struggled with this climb, it would be even more dangerous for humans, no matter how agile.

A few more steps bring me to the edge of the Ravens’ mansion. The roof is solid and well-kept, and the tiles hold firm as I move forward, scanning for anyone who might be hiding. I check behind every chimney, every dormer window. Nothing.

My shoulders slump. I came all this way for nothing, and worse, if I get caught up here, I’ll have a hard time explaining what I’m doing. I might ruin whatever progress Major Strahl and his crew have made. The Ravens will be on high alert if they catch someone lurking atop their mansion.

“Damn it.”

I run a hand over my wet hair, brushing back the sticky strands. This is what I get for being impatient. If luck is on my side tonight, I’ll be able to keep this to myself. No witnesses means no one will know I fucked up this badly.

Keeping my arms out for balance, I turn back the way I came. I’ll climb down, erase any trace of my presence, and skulk back to the Heron for a hot bath and a bowl of stew if the kitchen hasn’t closed yet. The thought of finally getting warm and dry spurs me to quicken my steps.

My boot snags on something, and I pitch forward violently, then roll to the side, my instincts taking over.

I’ve been tripped, and my body reacts on its own.

I’m back on my feet a second later, arms raised in anticipation of an attack, a dagger already in hand.

The tiles groan under me as I shift my weight, scanning the roof for an enemy, but I’m still alone up here.

“What the…?”

My heart thuds in my ears. I crouch again and run my hands over the tiles, trying to figure out what happened.

And there it is—a thin rope, pulled taut. In the darkness, it’s nearly invisible, even to my eyes. I follow it with my fingers.

One end is tied to a chimney I just passed.

The other leads to the edge of the roof, but not the side that looks onto the street where I’d kept watch all evening.

It’s hanging into the building’s inner courtyard.

Just as I crawl closer to see where it leads, the rope goes slack, as if whatever weight it bore is no longer there.

Holding my breath, I lie flat, sliding as close to the edge as I dare, and peer over. There’s no sign of the thieves, but the rope dangles all the way down to a fourth-story window.

I have you now.

I pull myself back, regretting that I didn’t bring a second coil of rope. I could use the thieves’ own rope to follow them, but I don’t know if it’s strong enough to hold my weight.

They could be doing all sorts of nefarious things down there.

Stealing, even killing the remaining members of Damen’s gang.

I bite the inside of my cheek, debating with myself.

If I climb down and run to the front door to raise the alarm, the thieves would surely hear the commotion and escape through the roof, just as they did once before, at the inn.

No. All I have to do is wait. They didn’t enter this mansion when it was full of people. Hopefully, this isn’t an assassination attempt but a robbery. They’ll come climbing up that rope sooner or later. It’s their only safe way out.

And when they do, I’ll be right here to catch them.