20 Maerryl
MAERRYL
Do you think it’s safe? For me to keep visiting the priory?”
Dove’s voice, smaller than usual, came from the circle of my arms. I squeezed her a little tighter, and she nestled in.
What could I say?
Realistically, I thought it unlikely that Stiv or any of Zephyra’s other henchpeople would attack again. At least not anytime soon, though I obviously couldn’t say that to her. He’d been sent to move things along, make Dove trust me more because I “rescued” her from danger.
It worked a little too well…
But Zephyra couldn’t know that, even if she did have an informer in the household or watching nearby.
At least not yet. If Dove and I acted friendlier—but not too intimate—that could buy us some time.
Until what, I had no idea. I didn’t know what to do anymore, and I needed time alone, to think.
Tendrils of panic curled up in my stomach as I tried to stay calm.
Keeping my voice level, I said, “I don’t know. It’s hard to say.” She sighed, and my chest squeezed.
“But what I do know,” I continued, “is that I’ll protect you from anyone who tries to hurt you.”
Dove pushed herself up to sit, looking at me in exasperation. “How? You’re already twice injured in as many days, and both were my fault! I can’t let you risk yourself like this. And I’m useless in a fight.”
I laughed, reaching for her hand. “Well, for one—I’d hardly call a cat scratch a proper fight. And two—if it makes you feel better, I’ll teach you.”
“Teach me?” Dove’s nose wrinkled. “How to, what, stab and throw daggers and such?”
“Among other things, sure. We can cover the basics before your next class with the children.”
She pondered it, playing with my fingers, then said, “Hmm… alright. Let’s do it. I know some self-defense—all ladies in the queendom are taught that in their teens, of course—but I’ve never trained properly, with knives and all that.”
“Alright then. We have a plan,” I said. As gently as I could, I extricated myself from our embrace and rose.
She protested, squeaking, and glared up at me as I threw my shirt on.
“Don’t look at me like that. I think we’ll both feel a lot better if I do another sweep of the grounds and check the manor’s security.
Want to make sure that carpenter and locksmith your mother hired did their work properly as I instructed. ” I twinged internally at the half lie.
She relaxed into the floor pillows. “Thank you. Yes, you’re right.
I’ll definitely sleep more soundly knowing we’re locked up tight, at least.” She poked her head up again before I slipped back to my bedroom.
“Come back tonight? We can have dinner together. My parents should already be on their way to the city by now.”
I nodded, then ducked through her bedroom and back into my own. Sealing the door behind me, like I knew Dove preferred, I slumped against the carved wood. Trying to focus on the feel of the thick pattern against my back instead of the storm instead my head, I took a deep breath.
What the fuck was I going to do now?
A firm double-tap against the windowpane—the slitling had returned.
I moved across the bedroom and let it inside, carefully keeping my distance.
After it checked me over again with its beady eyes and stuck out one leg, I tugged the message from its pouch.
It didn’t settle down on the windowsill or chirp for food like a normal bird.
Instead, it stood at attention, metal feathers rustling slightly, clearly waiting for my response to its missive.
Good work, M.
You have two more weeks there. Report again. I want more detail & a recommended plan of action. Any update on their secret source? Where is the coin coming from?
—Z
A heavy weight dropped into my stomach. Zephyra.
That raven I’d sent this morning after finding the gold felt like weeks ago.
She was checking in—wasn’t this what I’d wanted, just a few days before?
A message, some indication of how long I’d be stuck here serving these rich assholes, of when this job would end?
But now that it had come, I only felt dread.
The slitling sized me up with one beady yellow eye, as if to say Well? Why aren’t you writing a reply? I haven’t got all day. I grabbed parchment, quill, and ink from my bag and sat at the small table by the fireplace. Taking my time prepping the quill, my thoughts raced.
I couldn’t tell the Takers Guild leader what I’d found out from Dove.
That much was clear. Though it surprised me how strongly, adamantly, I felt that in my gut.
Somewhere along the way, my loyalties had shifted.
Maybe not to Dove fully—I still had no real idea how she felt about me—and definitely not to her parents, those lazy leeches.
But away from the Takers Guild. Away from Zephyra.
I doubted I’d ever felt true loyalty to her or the guild at all—more like a strong sense of fear and admiration, always grounded by my desperation for coin.
The coin I needed more than anything. The tiefling had sensed that in me from the first day I’d joined the guild.
She knew, somehow, how far I’d go for the right price.
But she was wrong. My loyalty belonged to myself. To my family. It couldn’t be bought.
The rumors appear to be true. Target has begun to trust me. Confirmed that a great-aunt in the Southern Isles died, leaving the family a small fortune. They seem to have spent most of it already on art and frivolity. Some liquid coin is just the gold in Lady W’s closet.
However—art collection in front hall should fetch a high price. Working to catalog it. And I suspect there may be secret cache of art or jewels that lord and lady keep hidden and sell on the sly in Talon.
Recommendation to hold off heist until found, for maximum profit. Small staff, and the lord & lady traveling for next few weeks. Ample time to plan. Suggest we pull a nighttime heist when ready—quick in and out, none the wiser.
Will proceed as planned and await next instructions.
—M
I sat back, blowing gently on the ink and waiting for it to dry.
There. That should buy us some time at least. And if it came down to it, the guild could pull a simple night heist with my help, take the Wistrallos’ precious art and get what we could for it on the black market, and grab Lady Iris’s stash for good measure.
Dove and the staff would wake up the next morning, with bare walls but unharmed, and everyone could move on with their lives.
Zephyra’s eyes wouldn’t be on them anymore.
The lord and lady would hopefully learn their lesson and store their future acquisitions in a proper vault or gallery rather than so gaudily clustering their wealth in the front hallway just for the sake of showing off.
And Dove would be protected from Zephyra’s attention.
Protected? Is that what I’m trying to do—protect her?
I thought back to earlier, when Dove started to confess something to me.
The truth of their suddenly revived fortune sat on the tip of her tongue, I could see it.
She said something about magic she possessed—how it was her that saved them.
She was the answer I’d been searching the manor for, clearly.
And in a moment of blind panic, I’d kissed her to cut off whatever she’d been about to say. I hadn’t wanted to know. If I did, some part of me was terrified I’d have to tell the guildmaster. I wouldn’t be able to resist, when Zephyra was able to give me what I’d wanted for so long.
So I’d kissed her. And then did so much more.
The memory of her underneath me, in my arms, was strong, almost overwhelmingly powerful.
I could still smell her on my fingers. I’d been pulled deep, deep under, and oddly, I didn’t feel the usual urge to drag myself away.
The thought of her half-lidded gaze as I touched her, the hesitancy in her voice as she asked me to dinner—goddess, I wanted to be back with her already.
Whatever magic she had, it wasn’t anything harmful. Dove may be a bit self-centered, and stubborn, and—okay, yes, kind of stuck-up and classist at times—but she wasn’t someone who would hurt others to get what she wanted. That much I was sure of.
And I had my own secrets too. We didn’t need to share everything in order to start trusting each other. At least a little.
I rolled the slip of parchment up tightly and approached the slitling.
One piercing eye sized me up again, unnervingly intelligent, before sticking its leg out.
I held my breath and tucked the message back into the pouch.
Backing away a few careful steps, I waited.
The slitling ducked down to make sure the message was secure, then eyed me again and shook out its wings suddenly.
I jumped, stumbling backward. It let out a small, sharp caw, then tapped its beak together rapidly.
Was this fucking bird laughing at me?? This is a new low.
Then it hopped on the windowsill and soared out without a backward glance.
Quickly shutting the window behind the slitling, I latched it as tight as I could. Then double-checked that it was secure. That thing gave me the creeps.
I took a deep, heavy breath and slowly let it out. Nerves jangled queasily as it fully hit me that I’d lied to the guildmaster. Or, at least, told a half-truth. I had to hope this worked—Zephyra wouldn’t take kindly to betrayal of any kind.
The next several days passed in a lovely, if slightly anxious, fashion. I woke before the sun, did my exercises and stretches while I tried not to think about Zephyra, the slitling, and the future.