Chapter Four. Eban
CHAPTER FOUR
EBAN
Vergel pushes his toes into gaps in the wall and scales the rotted face of the building while I keep watch from below.
The night air is still and humid. Drops of water fall from the edge of the roof, making tiny plinks when they hit the shallow puddles below.
From a block or so away, a cat screeches and another hisses in return.
There’s a brief commotion, two starving animals fighting over the same discarded bit of rotted fish, and then the clatter of metal knocking to the ground.
I wait for someone to shout at them, but no one does. So far, so good. We’re alone.
Once Vergel reaches the top, he vanishes for a moment, then reappears, and motions for me to follow.
We squat on the roof, still slick and shiny from the earlier rain, and look eastward over the ragtag, mismatched rooftops of the Sleeve: broken, multicolored shingles, thatched straw, tin that sounds like a drum if walked on—those, we’ll avoid.
There are lines of laundry strung across some balconies, broken chairs strewn on others, and some buildings are nothing but makeshift tents, with remnants of blankets, still damp, their edges drooping onto the ground.
It’s usually cooler up on the roofs than trapped inside the stuffy shanties, and safer than sitting out by the streets, so many sit or sleep up here on nicer nights, if the structure can support them.
We’ll use those to travel across the skyline, particularly on a night like this one, when the lingering wetness keeps everyone indoors.
I scan the area, searching for the thieves we’re supposed to follow, as well as anyone else who might pose a problem.
Most residents of the Sleeve are asleep at this hour, or at least unwilling to venture out; but in the middle of the night, there are always troublemakers—like the two of us—lurking around. They’re just more difficult to see.
“What if this guy Zagar was lying to us?” Vergel askes. “What if it’s a trap?”
I shake my head. “It’s not. I’ve worked with him before.
His tips have always been reliable. He’s just looking for easy coin.
Besides, if it was a trap, he could’ve just taken us right then.
” Still, I consider Vergel’s concerns. Not that it would stop me—I need this badly—but it does mean I should be more cautious than usual.
Normally I’d ask around before taking on any work, big or small, particularly night work like this.
I’d track down sources, scout locations.
There’s no time for any of that, though.
We also know nothing about these thieves we intend to ambush.
Then again, you know one thief, you know them all.
Sometimes the prep doesn’t turn up anything, but it does make us feel better going into a heist.
“I don’t like it,” Vergel stresses.
“You never do.” I pat him on the back. “You’re like having my own personal guard dog, always barking at anything you don’t like. It keeps me on my toes.” I push my own misgivings aside. I’d never let Vergel know I have any doubts, no matter how minor, else the entire thing falls apart.
Besides, on the surface, the job is a simple one, the kind of thing we’ve handled countless times before, without any complication.
The thieves who hit House Dominant were forced to hide their loot when they, similarly to me and Verg, ran afoul of the Blackcoats the night before.
Tonight, before sunrise, they planned to retrieve the loot and head out of the Sleeve via the main route that leads to Lucent Quay, the main dock for the entire island of Lacon.
As Zagar said, they’ll be disguised as gong farmers to avoid detection while the stolen treasure will be concealed in a sewage barrel.
All we have to do is steal the barrel from the thieves.
Vergel turns to me. “Are we certain they’re going to come this way?”
“It’s the only way to the docks,” I assure him. “They have to.” I just hope it’ll be soon. By dawn, the world will begin to stir, and at that point the risk will be too great.
We observe in silence for a while. My stomach growls.
On the positive side, the celebratory feast afterward will be that much more satisfying.
We always take a bit of coin and splurge on the biggest meal we can, huge bowls full of meat stew and tankards of ale, as much as our stomachs can handle. Thinking of it makes my mouth water.
Vergel looks at me. “By the way, did you hear what happened at House Eternal?”
I shake my head. I couldn’t care less about the estate born, but Vergel’s only trying to make conversation, so I humor him. “Another hedonistic soirée for the ages, I’m guessing?”
“Nah, worse. The Blackcoats aren’t the only ones getting riled up. Apparently, the Matriarch, Lady Ariadne, had an Ophir—one of the servant girls—executed. On the spot. During a party. Didn’t even have a chance to defend herself. I heard she was caught by the lady herself.”
“Doing what?”
“Rumor is she was the lord’s girlfriend. The son’s, I mean.”
I whistle. No wonder the girl hanged. There’s no way Laconians would allow filth like us anywhere near their precious heirs.
Vergel shakes his head. “Poor thing.”
I feel a flash of anger. It’s not as if I’ve known anything else living in Lacon, but lately, the highborn really are getting worse, more vengeful, less forgiving (which doesn’t seem possible), as if things aren’t bad enough for us Ophir.
Though I don’t voice that sentiment aloud.
No reason to get Vergel more riled up. “What about the lordling? Didn’t even protest at seeing his beloved hang?
” I spit in disgust. What kind of man would do such a thing?
At least help her escape. At least try to save her life.
“You ever get caught?” Vergel asks.
“Once, when I first started. But I escaped,” I say, more to myself than Vergel. I add, “Barely.” I don’t like to think about what happened to me and Uncle. I’ve spent my whole life since then trying not to think about it.
“I think you mentioned that once,” Vergel says carefully, as if he’s trying not to scare off a nervous foal. “You never told me how you pulled that off.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” I say quickly. I know Vergel’s curious.
I shouldn’t have brought it up. Some secrets are too dark, even for my closest friend.
I change the subject to one I know will distract Vergel.
“By the way, I heard there’s a new food hall that just opened up.
” I nudge him with my elbow. “On the other side of town. Best meat pies in the city, they say.”
Vergel smiles mischievously. “Well, then. Might have to try it out, they’ll need our support. It’s only right.”
I chuckle. “I bet.”
Hushed voices in the distance. I hold my hand up to warn Vergel.
We both snap into work mode, crouching down and scanning every window, every door in sight, waiting for whoever’s attached to those voices to appear.
The talking grows louder. I can almost make out what they’re saying, an isolated word here and there, but not enough to make sense of it.
Then, around a corner, they emerge, two by two.
Four men, all dressed as gong farmers in dark gray cloaks, lugging a large barrel with them. Exactly as Zagar said they would.
“It’s go time,” I whisper.
We step carefully across the roof of the abandoned warehouse, crouch over, our eyes focused on the thieves.
At the edge, we pounce from one rooftop to the next.
For one heart-pounding moment, Vergel teeters on the ledge; I grab hold of his arm.
“Careful,” I mouth. Last thing I need is to mess up this job and lose my only friend at the same time.
We continue, trailing the men below, until we come to the end of the road. From there on, there are only a few rooftops we can travel.
The men drop the barrel at the corner. A couple of them bend over, panting.
“Heavy,” I whisper to Vergel. Vergel raises his eyebrows.
I know we’re both wondering just what—or how much—is inside that barrel.
It could truly be the biggest heist we’ve ever encountered.
And so far, one of the least complicated.
Yes, there are four men, but we’ve bested as many as twelve on our own, and Blackcoats at that.
Even if these men are armed, we can take them.
I try not to count this as a victory before we have the goods in hand, but it’s difficult not to when the outcome is already plainly obvious.
I can tell these thieves are large and slow.
Vergel and I will make quick work of this.
We scan the space around us. Not a soul in sight.
Even the animals are silent. The sun will begin to rise soon, and then the world will stir again.
But for now, everything’s on our side. We look at each other.
Vergel nods, he’s ready. He knows what I know.
These thieves are lumbering and dim. For once, Vergel appears as confident as I am.
We move to the edge of the rooftop, directly over the men’s heads, which are all facing the other direction.
I hold up a finger. I can’t help but smile as I mouth silently, “One.” I can already imagine the two of us, practically swimming in coin.
A hearty meal at the Silent Unicorn. Beer and brats swimming in onions and butter.
“Two.” The best room in a warm inn. Feather beds and a real mattress.
We prepare to leap.
“Three.”