Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
T he sun was hardly visible by the time I left the forge—curfew was coming as Smitty had said, and I had to hurry or be caught by the night watch. One hour. I had one hour at best to get to the O’Donnellys and back through the magic shroud.
Honestly, things had progressed far quicker than I’d even hoped.
With the lockpick ready, we were one step closer to being back in The Hollow. Once there…things would be better. We’d be safe.
Would you be safe? Moll will never be able to grow her hair out again. You’ll have to keep it dyed dark…she’d hate that.
I hated that my thoughts felt like a betrayal. One step at a time. We’d get home and then…then we’d figure things out from there.
An image of the dark-haired stranger from my dreams ran through my mind, unbidden. A fantasy would not help me now.
My bigger concern was Molly. Because this was the ticket out of Little Alabaster for the both of us, and I needed her to not be too in her feelings. I needed her to be…less like herself. I winced at the thought.
I pulled my hood up a little further as a guard strode past. The Smudge was swarming with the bastards, as if they were lurking around every corner now, unlike on my last visit.
No doubt due to my big fat mouth suggesting that they search for the king’s attacker by casing the shops for similar shoes. No, not in so many words, but I might as well have said it.
“Abundance Feast is a day away, and we’ve yet to find the culprit, despite rounding up women to try on the shoe daily. You know how many warts I’ve seen?” one guard complained to another, as I strode by. Neither didn’t so much as look at me, though they spoke loud enough that I heard them even after I passed.
“And to stab him with a shoe? Crazy, she had to be crazy to think she’d get away with it!”
I cursed inwardly, mentally replaying said stabbing for the hundredth time. Not because of Molly, but because I still just couldn’t understand how Heinrich had survived.
What kind of person could take a glass heel to the heart, and then be out hunting only days later? I shivered just thinking about his leering, predatory gaze. The thought of Heinrich remaining king made my eye twitch, but there was nothing I could do about it. The hunt had shown me just how quickly things could turn on me. Not that I didn’t know, but the reminder was like a slap to the face.
I was nothing.
And Heinrich?
He was a fucking king. Untouchable. Even a blow to the heart couldn’t kill him, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Now that I could finally see a clear path out of here, there was only one downside. As much as I hated to admit it, leaving Duncan would be hard. The feeling of his hand on the small of my back, his dispersing of food to the people in The Smudge, the way he’d leapt in front of a fucking bear to save me…
All of it. He had shaken up everything I’d known about nobles, and it was getting increasingly hard to pretend otherwise. The way he’d insisted on bringing me back, even as Heinrich bragged and gloated about the mangled boar he and Bertrand had managed to kill, was so different than any noble I’d ever heard of. I’d written off the idea of an honorable ruler as a fantasy, no matter how many times they’d been mentioned in the fairy tales. But it seemed like a stance I might have to reconsider. The system was broken, but, if any man was fit to rule, it was Duncan Westerly.
The sound of laughter pricked at my ears, and I pulled myself back to the present.
A place like The Smudge could be dangerous at the best of times, never mind after nightfall—which I was dangerously close to. But my goal was in sight.
Hurrying, I was at the big door of The Hoof and Saddle in three more strides and knocked out the pattern. Three. Two. Three. The bartender let me in with just a wrinkle of his nose this time, then stood back as I looked around the room.
Jacob was pressed against one wall, with an apple perched on his balding head, while the other three brothers stood a dozen or so feet away from him. The bartender and other patrons looked on from the far side of the bar, nervously watching their antics.
The youngest one turned and shushed me before he pulled back a dart and stared down at his very nervous-looking brother.
“Hold still now, Jake,” Paddy laughed. “You know the kid’s aim isn’t great.”
Jacob let out a low moan.
“One, two…” The boy’s arm snapped forward in a smooth, practiced motion, and the dart hurtled through the air at tremendous speed.
He spun the moment it left his hand; he took a single, confident stride away from the throwing line, not even seeing the dart land. “Easy?—”
The yelp that pierced the air silenced him, and I cringed as I saw the dart that had lodged itself two inches deep into Jacob’s shoulder. Better that than an eyeball at least.
He tore it free, chucking it toward the youngest brother in an explosion of fury. “Fucking kids, you?—”
“You had it coming for what happened last time, if you really think about it,” Paddy said, smacking his knee in a fit of laughter.
Jacob sprang forward as if to strike the boy, and Scotty leapt in between them, holding up his arm as the youngest one snickered.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” A bubble of laughter burst from my lips as they froze in place like they’d been caught by their mom.
“It’s just the black-haired lass, here I thought it was Auntie Lacey, come to beat us,” Scotty muttered.
“ Just ?” Paddy asked, lips already tipping into a smile. “She’s plenty more than just, if you’re asking me.”
I ignored his not-so-subtle attempt to hit on me. “Dare I ask why you are throwing darts at Jacob?”
They shared a round of looks that I didn’t understand, though there were plenty of snickers and muttered expletives.
While they may have lived a hard life, by Little Alabaster standards, they'd kept their sense of humor…but how the hell they’d managed to secure their near-monopoly on smuggling in these parts was beyond me. Not one of them seemed quite sharp enough to run a group of smugglers and not get caught.
Paddy gestured to his bespectacled brother. “We had a job this morning, and Jacob was slowest when we were running from the guards. It's a penalty game…of sorts.”
“Did you finish it already, then? The thing we discussed.” Scotty strode over, expression growing serious as I pulled the easy lockpick from my pocket.
“I did. Do you have a lock you want me to demonstrate on?” Excitement burned in my belly. I’d tried it quickly on Smitty’s lock, but that had been simple. Still, it was quicker by far than my last lockpick.
Scotty stepped uncomfortably close to my side, staring down at the invention. “Let’s head to the back for a little more privacy… Andrew, grab those fancy locks.”
The youngest brother—finally named—nodded, dashing down a side hall in advance of the rest of us. I sucked in a breath, doing my best to appear unfazed as I followed the brothers down the narrow hall to the backroom once more, the pool table as it had been on my first visit. As nerve-wracking as this was, it wasn’t like I had much of a choice. This was it. Do or die.
I was really hoping it wasn’t die.
I’d prove the value of my invention and secure our passage to the Hollow, or they’d rob me blind and chuck me back on the streets, if not worse.
Andrew came back a couple minutes later with a leather bag slung over his shoulder. He made a beeline for the large square table in the corner of the cluttered room and emptied the contents of the bag onto the dusty tabletop against the wall.
I moved to stand beside him and gazed down at the array of locks spread over the surface, taking them in one by one.
There were six in total, I let my fingers trace over them.
“Two are child's play. I don’t need a fancy lockpick to open them. A pair of needles would do.”
Scotty looked to Andrew, who nodded in agreement. “She's right. You don't have to bother with those two. What about this one?” he said, selecting a large, heavy lock and handing it over. This one was different, more difficult for sure.
I peered into the elaborate keyhole, taking note of the multiple dips and divots. Then, I picked it up and slid the flat, master key of the lockpick into the place. The gem caught the light, and I could see all the mechanisms clearly.
“Watch carefully,” I whispered, holding the lock close to one eye and shutting the other. “Each of these tiny buttons will raise or lower the internal mechanisms inside the master blank up to a half a millimeter. Once it’s filled the space, you lock it in place like so,” I paused, clicking a second button, “and then you move onto the next until you’ve built a temporary key that lines up with the space within the lock.”
I blocked everything else from my mind as I did just that.
“All it takes is a steady hand and a little practice and—” I broke off, a sense of pure satisfaction coursing through me as the lock clicked and I tugged it open. “Done!”
Paddy clapped Andrew on the shoulder. “Better be careful, boyo. She's awful fast. You might be looking for a new job.”
Young Andrew gave him a playful shove back. “Well, I didn't have one of those fancy lock pickers now, did I? All right, how about this next one?” Andrew said, holding up another lock. This one featured a round hole, so there was no real way to tell what was going on inside the mechanism, but that was okay.
I motioned at it. “The good thing about my easy lockpick is that it’s built to be versatile, and there aren’t many locks it won’t get into.”
“We have two of that type,” Scotty said, tipping his head in challenge as he eyeballed me. “Why don't you race Andrew here, and we'll see who can do it faster.”
I was about to agree and then had a thought. “All right, but if I win, I want something from you.”
“You're not exactly in a position to be negotiating, woman,” Scotty snapped back.
Paddy crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“If you didn't melt that watch down already, I'd like it back,” I said simply. I wasn’t about to tell them that Duncan had saved my life that morning, and that the least I could do was return his watch to him. That was the only reason, too. I refused to examine why taking it had bothered me so much. Plenty of people had done far worse for a whole lot less. But ever since Duncan had put his life on the line to rescue me from that bear, I had this pit in my stomach at the thought of leaving him without even his damn watch. Stupid, I know.
If I got the watch back, I could leave it behind at the hut before Moll and I skipped town. At least then he'd know what he'd done to help had meant something to me...
Scotty scratched at his nose and then shrugged. “Fine, fuck it. I didn't want to have to deal with that anyway. Besides, Andrew here has been messing with those locks since he's been in diapers. You're about to lose this bet. And when you do, you’ll give us whatever you got left in your bag of coins.”
Well shit. I grit my teeth and give him a nod. “Fine.” I still liked my chances; I just didn’t want to give up the little coin I had left.
Andrew selected the lock that was twin to mine, only instead of bronze, it was colored silver. Then, he tugged a toolkit from his pocket and unzipped it. After carefully selecting a pick, he eyed me expectantly.
“Ready?”
“As I'll ever be,” I said, picking up my lock and holding it close to my face.
“Ready, set, go!” Paddy called gleefully.
Again, I sucked in a deep breath and shut everything out, focusing only on the lock. I slid the flat blank key back into its slot and tugged out a cylindrical pick. Then, I slid it into the keyhole.
This time there was no looking down the barrel to see what matched—no amount of light from the gemstone would help. This one was all feel.
I turned the pick half click to the left, attuning my body to the slightest bit of tension against my fingertips. When it came, I stopped and pressed a button that filled the space.
Next section.
I spun the pick again, making a full 360, but this time there was no tension to be felt.
Strange.
I squeezed my eyes tighter, and my head started to pound. My hands went clammy.
Not this. Not now...
I pushed through the sensation and tried to picture the inside of the lock in my mind. It came to me in a flash, like a picture, as my brain created a schematic of the empty space.
Two more protrusions. One, a half click to the right—I pushed the corresponding button—and the second a quarter down from the first.
I didn't wait to hear the click as the lock disengaged. I just opened my eyes and held out my hand for the watch.
A second later, Andrew called out, “Done!” as his lock slid open and he held it up.
“Sorry, buddy,” Paddy said with a chuckle. “The pretty lady got you by about half a second.”
Andrew looked down to find the open lock swinging on the end of my index finger, and he drew back like I'd slapped him right in the forehead.
“Not possible!” he said, staring at me as if I was a ghost. “I've done that one a million times. There's no way you could have used that gadget to open that lock in that amount of time after trying it once. It should have taken you an hour, maybe more.”
I held out the lock pick for his inspection. “That's what I was trying to tell you. It's a great invention.”
“Fuck the invention,” he whispered, looking over towards his brothers. “It's her. She needs to do it. That’s our best chance; she’s got a feel for this…”
They all exchanged looks, and their silence had my stomach roiling.
“Look…guys…I've done my job. I brought you a fancy, easy lockpick. We had a deal. You get me and my friend out now.”
Scotty stepped forward, taking the pick from my unresisting hand, his face closing down. I never did like him. “Deal's changed. I'll give you the watch back. I have no problem with that, but we're going to need you to do the job yourself with your…fancy easy lockpick.”
“I didn't sign up to be a thief,” I said, shaking my head and backing away. There was bad blood between them and the crown already in some way, that’s what Smitty had said, and I trusted the old blacksmith—at least as much as I could trust anyone here.
“That's rich given the watch you stole and tried to sell us to make this thing,” Scotty said with a snort, holding up the lockpick.
I shook my head, not sure if I should try to back out or snag my lockpick first. “Those were extreme circumstances. Whether I get caught stealing here or the other side of the shroud, I'll be hanged. I'm not even supposed to be on this side of the Cradle. You guys have less to lose than I do.”
“Be that as it may,” Paddy said, brow wrinkled with what looked like genuine regret. “All this drama since the Jubilee has made things a lot more difficult—particularly the job we need to do. And I have a feeling you and your friend know a little something about all that trouble, don't you?”
And to think he used to be my favorite of the bunch…
I let out a hiss, knowing they had me cornered. It wasn't a threat outright, but it might as well have been. Either I agreed to steal whatever it was, or they would turn me and Moll in.
This was the risk I'd taken by trusting thieves, but I couldn't turn back the hands of time now. Gayelette had sent me here and…well, I did strangely still trust the weird old flower lady.
“Fine, you bastards. You win. Where am I breaking into?”
Jacob pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “The palace dungeon.”
“To get what?” I asked the question before I thought it through. Of course, there was only one thing in a dungeon that would have value. A life.
Please, let me be wrong,
Paddy let out a heavy sigh. “Billy, the oldest of us, and the heartbeat of the O'Donnelly clan.”
I let my eyes drift shut and tried to will away the nausea. Fucking hell. They didn’t want me to steal some piece of jewelry, or a bucket of gold. They wanted me to spearhead a prison break and snatch their brother out of the palace dungeon right under Heinrich and Relyk’s noses.
Lovely.
I hated being right.