~ 5 ~
SAbrI
A burst of tepid air hits my back as the wall closes upon itself. The closed passage doesn’t just block the way back; it also shuts out the lights from my company’s torches. I freeze in the tense darkness, torn by the enemy in front and worry for my soldiers behind me.
I adjust my grip on my sword. With my other hand, I reach back to tap against the wall. The stone is solid and unyielding under my fist; there’s no discernible handle or button.
“Captain!” I call. “Can you hear me?”
There are muffled noises from the other side, but no reply. I can only hope the others are okay. If something happened to them, it would be my fault.
“I’d be careful, If I were you,” that awful voice says in the darkness. It echoes even stronger now, reverberating off the close, damp walls in a way that strains my mind. It’s smooth and infuriatingly cocky.
I’m vaguely aware of chills chasing down my arms, although I can’t tell if it’s from the low temperature or the heat of my fury.
Honing in on the woman’s voice, I swing my blade. The metal whistles through the air but doesn’t catch—whoever is here with me isn’t within reach. Straining my focus, I slam my fist against the mass of stone blocking me from my soldiers.
If it moved out, there must be a way to send it back where it was before.
More dust falls, but the wall doesn’t budge.
“Whoa, I really wouldn’t do that,” the woman—who can only be one of the criminal thieves—says. “That isn’t the only trap button around here. Make any drastic movements, and who knows what will happen. We haven’t tested them all.”
As if to echo her words, there’s a clink against my blade, accompanied by a slight vibration up the long stretch of metal. Although I can’t be sure, the weight of it makes me think it’s a small rock that fell from above.
I still my movements. Between the gaping pit in the floor and the moving wall, who knows what other traps this nasty person has ready to snap; a cave-in would be dangerous.
Fine. I’ll wait for an opening.
With the wall securely at my back, I lift my blade again and point it into the dark.
“Show yourself,” I yell. “If you dare to face me.”
“Oh,” the woman laughs darkly, “I dare.”
The sound of striking rocks is my only warning before a spark flashes. There’s a crackle and light fills the space. I blink my eyes quickly to adjust.
We’re in a small hallway with the same rough stone that has become familiar to me. But unlike the vast expanse of tunnels we’ve been wandering through, there’s actually someone in this one.
The woman is tall and lean, wrapped from head to toe in sleek black clothes. A belt of mean-looking daggers is wrapped low and tight around her hips. In her gloved hands is a candle; it casts dark shadows into her eyes. The rest of her face is hidden beneath fabric, but I have a gut-squeezing feeling that she’s smirking at me.
The nerve.
“ It’s an honor, Your Highness.”
I ignore her. It was an idiot’s mistake to trap herself here with me—now that I can see her, she doesn’t stand a chance. I’ll deal with this criminal whenever I wish; it’s more important to get back to the others.
I aim my sword at where her throat is hidden beneath the fabric. It would take me just a few steps to cross the distance. “Are my soldiers safe?”
“You think too highly of my skills.” She sighs, twisting the candle around. The flame flickers and flaps like a captured bird in her gloved hands. “I just press the buttons, I don’t control what happens. Your soldiers are probably fine. It’s just a blockade meant to split you up.”
All I hear is that she’s incompetent and desperate. It’s a potentially dangerous combination. Not to mention the added unpredictability of traps—there could be another above my head, or worse, something behind the wall that could injure my company.
It’ll be wise to tread carefully until I can subdue her.
“Why bother to split us up?” I say coolly, “What are you playing at?”
“I just wanted a chat.”
“As if anyone would go through so much trouble just to talk.” I frown. It’s irksome that she isn’t taking this seriously—someone ought to be a bit more stressed while committing treason against the Crown. “Are you intending to try to ransom me?”
It’s a ridiculous plan. Even if it worked and she somehow managed to restrain me, the council would surely get me back right away. The downside would be that I’d never hear the end of it from the councilors.
“Hmm? Ransom?” She opens her hands in a mocking gesture of goodwill. The candle almost rolls from her grip, but her fingers flick up at the last second to catch it. “Nah, I just wanted to have a little chat. So tell me.” She shifts, leaning into her hip. “What brings you to our doorstep? Uninvited too, I might add.”
It reeks of a lie. The base was empty as if it had been cleared out, and our company had been deliberately led to the traps. So much for an authentic tip—the captain was right to worry. It’s clear to me now that the thieves knew we were coming ahead of time.
No matter. That changes nothing.
“I’m not here to visit,” I snap. “I’m here for justice.”
The thief tosses the candle through the air into her other hand. She holds it up in front of her face.
“Justice?” she says as her brows press together. There’s something icy beneath her light tone. “How nice. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“The same—!?” I bite back my words, forcing my features into a stony mask. She’s goading me again. I won’t fall for the same trick twice. “You dare talk to me about justice.”
“Actually, this is my base. I can talk about whatever I please here. So let’s talk, shall we?” She swings one leg over the other, locking her ankles together.
I pause. Every move she makes bleeds a carefree and almost reckless demeanor. But the casualness is deceptive. Years on the training field have taught me to look below the surface in a standoff. Although her moves are exaggerated, each one is crisp and precise. She’s a trap that’s ready and waiting to spring.
This must be one of the leaders. She might even be the so-called Thief Lord themselves.
I take a deep breath, letting the cool air wash through me. The stakes of this encounter have been raised, but so have the potential rewards. My goal is right in front of me—what a stroke of luck.
“Fine,” I say as I grip my sword with both hands. “Does this ring a bell?” I cautiously step closer. It’s risky, but it’s getting me away from the trapdoor and closer to my target—who is potentially even more dangerous than the traps. “I’m here on behalf of the merchants who’ve lost their livelihoods. I represent all the families you so brutally harass.”
“Oh?” The woman rolls her shoulder. “That’s it?” She sounds oddly disappointed; as if a princess taking righteous action for her subjects is a disappointing thing to do.
I take a second deep breath through my nose.
Focus. I need to stay calm.
“So you mean merchants bought by the council and nobles who snatched up all the best goods at poverty prices. I’d say they got what they deserved.” She pauses. “Justice, if you will.” She tilts her candle directly at me. It’s a ridiculous mirror of how I’m leveling my sword at her.
I can feel my nostrils flare. People who block out the suffering of others to suit their own vision can’t be reasoned with.
Luckily, I’m not here to reeducate anyone—I’m here to bring a group of criminals in for their much-needed reckoning.
“That’s some nerve for a criminal to lecture the Crown about justice,” I cut back. “Who do you think you are?”
“What, you haven’t figured out who I am?” she says. “I’m offended. Maybe you really are all brawn and no brains, just like I used to say.”
There’s something in her voice that I can’t read—not that it could be anything of value. I shift my legs, lowering into a stance as I level my sword toward her neck.
She’s a raving lunatic—there’s no point in talking further. I’ll end this quickly.
The woman sighs. “Fine,” she says, reaching up to where the black fabric wrapped around her head is clasped on her shoulder. “I’ll show you.”
Curiosity stays my blade. After all, I have her—in the time it would take her to turn and run, I could plow her down easily. Might as well see the face of my enemy. It’ll good to finally turn the years of shadowy and faceless nightmares into something tangible.
She reaches up and pulls the scarf from her face.
The first thing I notice is the dashing smile. Her lips curl in a way that tugs at my heart, revealing a hint of teeth. There’s a small scar on her left cheek nestled beneath her brown eyes. Her short dark hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail, but a few rowdy strands have broken free to frame her face.
She’s prettier than I would have imagined the leader of a criminal organization to be, but that’s not what has me freezing in place.
Everything about her screams familiar, but how could I… she isn’t...
My heart stops.
“It can’t be…” The words break in my throat.
Fire erupts in my mind’s eye. It overlaps with a field of sunflowers—and there’s that same smile, albeit years younger and so much softer, kinder. I see black hair gleaming in the sunshine; there’s a muddy but warm hand in my own. It flashes to broken beams pocketed with hungry embers and the feeling of ash filling my screaming lungs.
Anya?
“So you do recognize me.” The woman who looks like Anya crosses her arms. The smug look on her face sends me reeling—it’s so familiar, yet twisted. “I was worried you were so busy eating crumpets in the castle and kissing noble asses that you wouldn’t remember. Maybe I should be flattered.”
“You…” I struggle to get the words out—everything about this is wrong. Anya is dead. She’s been dead for ten years. “You can’t be…”
I suddenly get it; everything makes perfect sense. After all, this woman does nothing but lie, cheat, and steal. Who could know what horrible tricks and traps the Lord of Thieves has up their sleeves?
This is just another trap. It has to be. It’s far more despicable than anything I could have imagined.
So I do what I do best—act.
“How dare you!” I hiss. The fire blinding my mind plunges to charge through my veins. My arms are shaking. “You dare take her face after what you did to her?”
All my restraint evaporates like tears in a blaze.
I lunge.