Chapter One Zephyra
CHAPTER ONE
ZEPHYRA
This is disgusting.”
“Then perhaps you should eat some ginger or, even better, leave.”
“I didn’t say I was going to puke. I said it’s disgusting—which it is. There are dead bodies in there. Freshly slaughtered. Days ago. By sirens. Remember? Rumor has it that the gore will stain the palace forever.”
“Remind me again why you demanded to come?” Vesper asks me with a deepening frown.
The sight of it is almost as unnerving as seeing the kingdom splashed behind her, all razor-straight edges and glistening white marble.
Ancient and fortified and deadly. Maybe I’ll puke after all.
Mortia has never been a welcoming place, least of all for someone like me.
If this goes wrong in any way, that’s it. For all of us.
Vesper moves two steps above me, and the torches outside the temple walls coax her shadow larger and paint her dark skin an even deeper shade of brown.
She crosses her arms beneath her navy cloak, and the silver bangles on her wrist clang from the movement.
Navy to match her eyes. Silver to match her hair.
All things considered, she looks exceptionally beautiful for a midnight grave robbery.
I would tell her this too, if she hadn’t spent the entire walk here searching for excuses to send me back to the streets. No matter how anxious I am, I refuse to let it show. I refuse to leave. The score is too big. It could change my entire life. “I told you. I’m the one with the key.”
Her gaze narrows, and she licks her lips. Obviously, she isn’t finished with me yet.
“Show us.”
“What?” I blink wide turquoise eyes at her and run my hands through my thick honey curls.
“Show us the fucking key.”
“The most important part of teamwork is trust. After three jobs together, I thought you would trust me more—”
Vesper slides up another step, halfway to the temple now. “First job,” she says slowly, “you scorched half our map and we had to fumble our way through the jeweler’s vaults while three soldiers chased us down. Second job, you fell asleep when you were meant to be our lookout. Third job—”
“Third job, you exploded my babies,” Stavros says gruffly, stroking the gunpowder satchels in his arms with a pallid hand.
I half expect him to kiss the rough fabric, but unfortunately, he chooses now to keep his oddities to a minimum.
His mustache twitches. The veins twining up his thick neck begin to bulge.
I sidle up beside him to pat him on the shoulder.
When he growls, however, I think better of coddling the five-foot-tall three-hundred-pound ball of anger and quickly dance away.
Snatching a dagger from the belt strung across my waist, I lean against a massive column. “If you despise me so much, you shouldn’t have invited me.”
“You invited yourself,” Vesper hisses, “because you claim to have the key.”
“Trust is not just a five-letter word—”
“Guys! Stop fighting,” Eos snaps. “We have three minutes before the guards’ route returns them to the front of the temple.”
She is the only one who doesn’t glare at me, instead directing her ire at her older sister. Vesper meets Eos’s gaze with an eye roll.
“Zephyra is right,” Eos says. “The only way we pull this off is if we work together.”
I smile brightly, winking my victory at Stavros, but Eos pulls the dagger from my grasp and stuffs it into her tool belt.
“Excuse me? I stole that. It’s mine.”
Eos pushes intricate silver braids behind her ears. Resolute, she lifts her chin and marches up the grandiose staircase. “You can have it back once we’ve excavated our treasure. Now, get inside before we’re tossed into prison.”
Prison.
I shudder.
No way is anyone locking me up tonight. My hands curl into my palms, turquoise nails slicing half-moons into my lightly golden skin. The pain grounds me. It reminds me of what I left, what I’m still running from. No. I’m not going back there ever again.
I hurry up the stairs, gently smacking Eos on the shoulder. “Don’t boss the adults around.”
“I’m seventeen.”
“You’re a child,” I tell her. “But it’s okay. We love you regardless.”
Eos grumbles under her breath, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.
At four foot eleven, with cherubic cheeks and a frame as slender as a skeleton, Eos is constantly mistaken for an actual child.
Pretty helpful when she needs to purloin a meal or two for her and her sister, though she would never admit it.
Not only do people pay less attention to children, but they’re also less likely to turn one in if they’re caught thieving.
Of course, Eos doesn’t get caught. Neither do Vesper or Stavros.
Neither do I.
Huffing, I throw myself inside the temple with seconds to spare. The abacus shields us from the weather, but there are no walls to hide within. Instead, the four of us press up against separate marble pillars for sixty full seconds before peering out.
Sure enough, four guards stand watch with their backs to us.
In another eighteen minutes, they’ll begin their rotation again, splitting up and marching for the south side.
We’ll have to climb down into the antechamber fast if we’re going to rob this place and escape before they notice we were ever here.
“Statue,” Stavros whispers, his voice as light as the summer breeze. He twirls his mustache six times for good luck. “In three, two…”
One, I think.
We race for the massive statue in the middle of the temple on quiet feet.
No socks. No shoes. Silence is as much a necessity for these jobs as gunpowder and daggers.
Though Vesper believes me to be an amateur, I’ve managed to steal enough to keep away from the sea for over half a year.
No one treats this more seriously than I do. Because if I’m caught…
If I’m caught, it won’t necessarily mean a swift hanging in the city proper.
If I’m caught, he will come for me. And all the progress I’ve made, all the freedom I’ve stolen, will be for nothing.
Vesper reaches the target first, and she yanks Eos after her. The two crouch behind a set of chiseled charcoal wings. I join them by pressing up against a rather impressive oblique. My hand slips with sweat, and I find myself accidentally fondling the stone ass cheeks of Mortia’s most revered god.
Mortem.
The God of Death; the first and worst traitor to mer-kind.
I consider snatching my dagger from Eos’s belt to slam the blade up his emphasized ass crack, but Vesper grips my wrist with a surprisingly strong grasp. “No, Zephyra,” she hisses, so low, I almost don’t hear it. “I know that look. Don’t do anything reckless.”
Reckless.
The word crashes overhead like a dangerous current, threatening to pull me under. I blink hastily, however, erasing the bitter memory before it can drown me. Not here. Not now. Not when a trove of gold awaits.
If I can just make it through tonight—if we can all make it through tonight—there won’t be any reason to worry about trauma and pain again.
We’ll have enough coin to go our separate ways, to fund mildly lavish lifestyles in whichever cities or kingdoms we prefer.
I’ll move to the mountains, as far from the sea as I can manage, and buy a small cottage with a real bed.
Real pillows, and maybe even a stove. No more rooting through the garbage for scraps or sleeping on the hard limestone of dark, dirty alleys.
I’ll buy a home, and I won’t have to run anymore.
Won’t have to hide or pretend. I’ll be safe.
Free.
Goddess. It’s so close now, I can almost taste it. Like sweet, ripened berries plucked from a garden no one else can enter. Wiping my hands on my linen trousers, I refocus on the present moment. On the temple and my three associates staring at me with their hands outstretched.
Fuck. What did I miss?
“Um… hello,” I say blandly.
Vesper glares at the ceiling. “The key, Zephyra.”
Oh. Right. I force a cheery grin, and Eos instantly groans at the sight. “See, the thing is… I couldn’t actually get it.”
“You what?” Stavros asks. His biceps strangle his precious satchels, and a bit of gunpowder spills from the openings. “Where is the key?”
I push Vesper’s hand away. “I tried, okay? But the merrow attack was only four days ago. The palace is swarming with guards and soldiers and executioners, and King Constane is on high alert for any sort of treachery. Soldiers have been told to arrest any suspicious persons without trial. I couldn’t exactly seduce the High Priest right under their noses. ”
Vesper glowers at me now, and Eos doesn’t try to stop her. Sharp as a blade, Vesper says, “You can’t seduce the High Priest. Mortia priests and priestesses vow eternal silence and celibacy in honor of Mortem. You should know that.”
I blink at her. “Oh. Well—good thing I couldn’t try.”
Vesper seems about ready to throttle me. “I cannot believe you. Why are you here if you don’t have the fucking key?”
It’s not a bad point, but there’s no way in the Fathoms I’m missing out on this score. “I offer this group more than just a key.”
“I’m not seeing evidence of that.”
I narrow my gaze. “Who told you that the king’s premier jeweler was moving inventory three months ago? Who found the records for the shipwreck you plundered?”
Vesper seethes, her cheeks flaming red. “You are not and have never been a real part of this crew. You found us in a tavern, and you attached yourself. We allow you to help us—”
“Two hundred twenty-six,” I hiss. “That’s how much copper we’ve made the last few months.
I’ve helped plenty. Stavros may have been the brains behind this particular plan, but that’s because he’s desperate for a reason to explode his newest shipment of gunpowder.
I’m here to make sure it goes smoothly and we actually nab the jewels. ”
“It is true,” Stavros answers earnestly. “I want to make boom.”