The Scorpion had been delighted when she asked him to be her aide. Ilanna knew that what he lacked in interpersonal skills, he more than made up for with his keen intellect. He and Bryden would figure out how to keep the Night Guild solvent until the Houses’ earnings picked up.

  With a nod, Darreth retreated. A moment later, Errik strode into the room.

  “Master Hawk.” He nodded to Bryden.

  “Master Serpent.” Bryden’s tone held ice. He turned back to Ilanna. “If that is all, Master Gold.” His face twisted as if in revulsion at the words.

  “Thank you, Master Hawk.” Ilanna inclined her head. “The Guild Council convenes in an hour. We have much to discuss.”

  With a grimace, Bryden limped from the room.

  Errik waited until the Hawk had left before letting out a small chuckle. “You’re going to have to make peace with him eventually, Ilanna.”

  Ilanna rolled her eyes. “Infuriating man.” She knew Errik was right, but she wanted to continue her dislike of the Hawk for at least a while longer. Her pragmatism hadn’t yet overruled the part of her that Bryden forever seemed to rub the wrong way.

  He sat in the chair opposite her and ran a hand along the Guild Master’s desk with an appreciative whistle. “Fancy digs, Hawkling.”

  Ilanna scowled. “That’s Master Gold to you, young Serpent.”

  “Master Serpent,” Errik said, his face twisting into a mock frown. He shook his head. “You really don’t do anything by half-measures, do you? The Black Spire, Lord Auslan, even the King himself.”

  “That was your idea, just so you know.”

  Errik’s eyebrows hovered near his hairline. “You’ll have to explain that to me.”

  Ilanna grinned. “If I recall correctly, you once said to me ‘Next you’re going to tell me you’ve convinced the King of Voramis to take care of the Bloody Hand for us.’ Seems like the blame for all this mess falls squarely on your shoulders.”

  Errik laughed, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Only you could turn an off-the-wall remark into a crazy plan to save an entire city.”

  Ilanna shrugged. “Why else do you think they made me Master Gold?” Her expression grew suddenly serious. “How much of this is your fault? Were you the one who suggested it to Bryden?”

  “Well,” Errik said, hesitant, “it was my idea, but he didn’t take a lot of convincing. He may not be your favorite person in the world—mine either, I’ll admit—but he’s bloody smart.”

  Ilanna grimaced, but she couldn’t deny it. Bryden shared her sense of pragmatism, and he understood what needed to be done to move forward.

  That doesn’t make him any more likeable.

  “The Duke will be coming for you, you know.” Errik fiddled with the hilt of his dagger. “He won’t let this go.”

  “I know.” Ilanna shrugged. “But he swore an oath to the King, and he’ll honor it. For a while, at least. Long enough for us to get back on our feet.”

  Ilanna’s nonchalant tone hid her very real concern. The Duke knew where to find them, and he wouldn’t be content until he rid himself of the stain on his honor. He’d find a way to come after them—her personally, as well. Her agreement with the King would only last until the Duke found a loophole or a way to get what he wanted without violating his oath to King Ohilmos.

  “And if he sends someone after you?”

  “Assassins?” Ilanna raised an eyebrow. She’d considered it. The Duke had gold enough to hire the bloody Hunter of Voramis if he decided she had to die. “Good thing I have a few of my own, then.”

  She met Errik’s gaze. The Serpent—I’ll never get used to calling him Master Serpent, she thought—gave her a smile. “You’re the talk of the Night Guild. General consensus is that you’re either the best thing to happen to us or the worst. A bit of both, I’d say.”

  Ilanna mock-scowled at him. “They don’t have to like the changes. They just need to accept them. And for that to happen, I’m going to need your help.” She gave him a wry smile. “I always knew it’d be handy having a House Master in my back pocket.”

  Errik chuckled, but a hint of sadness shone in his eyes. “It’s going to take us a while to recover from this.” From within his robes, he drew something small and dark and placed it on her desk. “Some of us more than others.”

  A lump rose to Ilanna’s throat at the sight of the little wooden figurine taken from her when she stood trial for Master Gold’s death. She closed her fingers around it and gripped it so tight her knuckles turned white.

  She would never recover from her loss, that much she knew. Her desire to change the Night Guild had come from the pain she felt at Kodyn and Ria’s death. No one else should suffer as she had. She would do what she could to ensure the Night Guild wasn’t the cause of further misery.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking.

  He nodded and stood. Without a word, he left her alone with the memory of her son.

  * * *

  Ilanna strode through the tunnels of the Night Guild. The handful of Journeymen and apprentices she passed regarded her with mixed awe, anger, suspicion, and respect. An odd combination, one she found terribly disconcerting. Hearing them address her by the title of “Guild Master” made her feel even more out of place.

  It’s definitely going to take a while to get used to this Master Gold thing.

  She rounded the corner and came face to face with the familiar double doors of House Hawk. Her heart lightened; stepping into the Aerie felt like coming home. Bright sunlight streamed through the window at the top of the Perch, and a cool breeze drifted through the room.

  Memories flashed through her mind: of the hours spent training in the Perch, running the Hawk’s dozen around the Aerie, laughing and chasing Prynn, Bert, Willem, Werrin, and Denber through the maze of ropes and ladders. The images brought back the burden of her sorrow. She would never see her friends again, never hear their inane banter, never challenge them to a race up the Perch or across the rooftops of Praamis.

  But there was one friend she would see again. Jarl sat on the lowest level of the Perch, legs dangling off the wooden platform. The huge Hawk glanced down and grunted as she strode toward him. “’Lanna. Or Master Gold, now.”

  Ilanna grimaced. “Not you, too!”

  Jarl shrugged. “’Tis what it is.”

  Ilanna clambered up the rope ladder, danced across a narrow plank bridge, and settled to a seat beside her friend. She leaned her head on his huge shoulder. For long moments, they sat in silence. No words were necessary.

  Jarl spoke first. “You need anything, you let me know.”

  Ilanna took a deep breath. “I could use your help with the Bloodbears.”

  The big man shifted but said nothing.

  “I need you to keep the Journeymen in line, train the tyros and apprentices to be better.”

  He gave his usual eloquent grunt.

  “Make them more like the Pathfinders. Helping, not harming.”

  Jarl nodded his shaggy head. “For you, ’Lanna.”

  She climbed to her feet, kissed his craggy forehead, and darted up into the Perch. Up the ladders and ropes she went, muscles bunching as she hauled herself higher and higher. She refused to let the pain in her chest slow her. Her eyes never left the window at the top of the Aerie. Beyond it stood the Hawk’s Highway and freedom.

  Her role as Master Gold would condemn her to a life of endless drudgery, politics, and arbitration. The daunting task of revitalizing and restructuring lay ahead of her. The threat of Duke Phonnis and the Bloody Hand hung over her head. As Master of the Night Guild, the burden weighed more heavily on her than ever.

  But she didn’t have to start yet. Guild Council be damned—she needed a final moment of freedom. She would take one last trip across the rooftops of Praamis as Journeyman Ilanna of House Hawk, with nothing but the open sky overhead and the city spread out below.

  She would fly one last time.

  Epilogue

  Warm sunlight bathed Ilanna’s face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as a gentle breeze wafted past. For a moment, she basked in the muted sounds of the city around her. Up here, atop the Hawk’s Highway, all was still. Below, life had begun to return to Old Town Market.

  King Ohilmos had hired builders to clear away the wreckage of the burned marketplace. No doubt the coin Grand Reckoner Edmynd had turned over defrayed some of the burden on the Crown. The first vendors had hauled their carts into the sections not covered in ash or rubble. People trickled past in twos and threes. Old Town Market would be revived within a month.

  That was ever the way of people: to find a way to rebuild what was destroyed. She would do the same with the Night Guild. The Bloody Hand and the Duke had decimated their ranks, but they would rise from the ashes. They would be better.

  Her duties as Master Gold beckoned, but she had to visit her old home one last time. She had to bid farewell to the life she’d lived. Only then could she move on.

  She slithered down the drainpipe and dropped to the alley below, then slipped out into the streets. Hood thrown back, head held high, she crossed the marketplace in full view of the Praamian Guards. The olive-clad guardsmen watched her with wary expressions and hands hovering near their sword hilts.

  Ilanna ignored them. She didn’t care that every Praamian Guard and Arbitor in the city recognized her. They couldn’t arrest her, not without breaking the Duke’s oath to the King. Unless she committed a crime, they couldn’t lay a hand on her.

  Not today, at least.

  Her steps led toward the blackened skeleton that had once been her home. Only the front wall remained upright; the weight of the collapsing roof had brought the rest of the house down. A pile of burned wood and ash was all that remained of her life outside the Night Guild.

  She carefully opened the front gate and walked up the stone walkway. She didn’t go inside—she had no need. She could send Jarl to retrieve the chest buried beneath the rubble. He’d do it without asking questions. The gold—a little over eight thousand imperials, at last count—would aid in her efforts to revitalize the Night Guild.

  Instead, she turned toward the garden at the rear of the house. The fire had destroyed her violas and the lilies so carefully tended by Ria, but the first blades of grass had begun to poke through the scorched earth.

  Kneeling in the dusty earth, Ilanna bowed her head and closed her eyes. She let the memories of the garden wash over her. Images played through her mind: dancing in the garden with her mother, practicing the sling with Ethen, laughing with Kodyn, learning the Kim’ware war dance with Ria. The garden had served as her refuge from life in the Night Guild.

  But those days were gone. She had chosen to become Master Gold—she could no longer strive to escape her life. She had no use for the refuge any longer.

  She loosened the leather strap around her wrist, coiled it, and set it gently on the ground beside the little creek that ran through the garden. Producing the wooden hawk figurine from her pouch, she ran her fingers gently over the scorched surface.

  She pressed her lips to the figurine. Goodbye, my little hawk. A lump rose in her throat as she placed it next to Ethen’s sling. For long moments, she remained unmoving, her eyes fixed on the last two links to her past. The past she had to leave behind.

  With a heavy sigh, she rose to her feet and turned away. She gritted her teeth against threatening tears and strode from her house. She dared not look back; if she did, the sorrow would overwhelm her.

  Yet she couldn’t help it. She cast one last glance over her shoulder. The house—her house—stood silent and mute, a shell of what had once been.

  Swallowing hard, Ilanna turned to leave when something caught her eye. Two figures shuffled toward her. Bandages swathed the face and hands of the taller one. Long, dark curls streamed from beneath the smaller figure’s slouch hat.

  They seemed somehow…familiar.

  No! Ilanna’s eyes went wide, and her heart paused mid-beat. It can’t be.

  Her feet moved of their own accord, sending her stumbling back toward the wreckage of her house. Her eyes never left the smaller figure. The child.

  “K…Kodyn?” The word came out barely above a whisper, drowned out by the bustle of workers and tradesmen moving through Old Town Market. She tried again. “Kodyn?”

  The little figure turned, scanning the crowd. His eyes, those honey-colored eyes that shone bright against his dark curls, settled on her. “Mama?”

  Ilanna broke into a run, and the child tore from the bandaged hand of the taller figure. Ilanna scooped him into her arms and pressed him to her chest. Tears flowed now and sobs shook her shoulders, but she didn’t stop them. She clung to Kodyn as if afraid the chubby arms wrapped around her neck were nothing but a figment of her wishful thinking.

  But there was nothing imagined about the little body in her arms. Kodyn held her tight. “I knew you’d find us, Mama!”

  Ilanna couldn’t speak. She showered his round face with kisses until he complained and squirmed from her grasp.

  Kodyn turned to the figure behind him. “See, Ria, I told you!”

  Pressure mounted in Ilanna’s chest as she stared into Ria’s dark eyes, the only thing visible through the bandages covering her face. She could find no words.

  Ria hesitated and dropped her gaze. Ilanna stepped toward the Ghandian girl and reached for her. Ria took a reflexive step back. “Please, don’t. The fire, it…” She motioned to her bandages. “I had to save him.”

  Ilanna gently took Ria’s bandaged hand and pressed it to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

  Tears filled Ria’s eyes. She nodded and returned Ilanna’s grip.

  Kodyn tugged at Ilanna’s robe. “Did you see the big fire, Mama?”

  “I did, my little hawk.” Ilanna reached down and took his hand.

  “It was so bright.” His expression darkened. “But it burned our home.”

  “Don’t worry.” Ilanna pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek. “We have a new home. One with so many tunnels for you to explore, and a maze of ropes and ladders for you to climb on.”

  Kodyn’s eyes widened. “Really, Mama?”

  Ilanna hesitated. She’d accepted the position as Master Gold believing she had no reason to leave the Guild. But here were Kodyn and Ria, alive. How could she continue in the Guild now?

  She didn’t have to figure it out today. She had them back. It was enough for now.

  Ilanna kissed her son again. “Yes, it will be our new home.” She looked at Ria. “For all of us.”

  The tension in Ria’s shoulders drained, and her hand squeezed Ilanna’s once more.

  “Come, my little hawk.” Ilanna scooped him into her arms. When had he grown so heavy? “Let me tell you all about the Night Guild…”

  The End?

  Please enjoy an excerpt from Child of the Night Guild.

  Chapter 1

  Viola huddled in darkness, shivering. The sobs and whimpers of the other children echoed in the close, stale air. Her back ached from hours—or has it been days?—of sitting on hard stone.

  Confusion drowned out her fear. How could Papa abandon me?

  She hugged her knees tighter and rocked. “Bright Lady, hear me and protect me in my hour of need.” She whispered the prayer over and over, clinging to the litany like a lifeline. She wouldn’t succumb to her terror.

  The door swung open and she shielded her eyes from the harsh light.

  “Up, little ’uns.” A man’s voice, gruff, impatient. “Time to meet your master.”

  Viola tried to stand, but her legs refused to cooperate. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She swallowed. Her tongue felt thick and coarse, her throat filled with grit.

  “Up, I said!”

  Viola lowered her hands and blinked back tears. A bearded man stared down, the fire in his eyes matching the torch in his hands. She shrank back, for the first time realizing she was alone in the cell.

  The man snarled. “Are you deaf, child?”

  Viola shook her head.

  “Just stupid and useless, are you?”

  Again, Viola shook her head. Her parched throat refused to form words.

  “Then why in the Watcher’s horny elbows are you not on your feet?”

  She struggled to stand, but her knees gave way. With a curse, the man seized her and dragged her upright. His fingers dug into her arm and she cried out.

  He shoved her forward. “Now, walk!”

  Viola stumbled toward the door and caught herself on the frame. Her legs wobbled, but she stood.

  The man pushed past. “Keep up or else…”

  She shuffled to catch up to the other children. After the rank air of the room, Viola welcomed the musty odor of the passageways. Flickering torchlight set the shadows dancing through the tunnels of earth and stone. The dim light sent an eerie glow over the markings etched into the walls. She shivered.

  The sound of sobs and shuffling filled the tunnels. The passageways twisted and turned, rising up a gentle incline. Before she’d taken a dozen steps, Viola’s lungs begged for air and her legs burned. She refused to slow. It would make the man angry. He looked meaner than her father, even after Papa had drunk too much.

  The stone walls and low roof gave way to a massive open space. Lanterns hung from the walls, casting light on an enormous chamber nearly the size of Old Town Market. The ceiling rose beyond the torchlight and a chill wind gusted through the room.

  A man stood in the center. His beard looked like Papa’s after a week without shaving. A tall hat flopped at an awkward angle. Silver shone in both his ears and in one of his teeth.

  He spread his arms wide. “Come in, my little cherubs, come in. Stand over there. And you, take your place there. Over there, my lad. Yes, good.” He rubbed his hands together.

  His smile reminded Viola of Master Umlai’s cat after he caught a mouse, though with fewer teeth. But it was his waistcoat that drew Viola’s eye. Bright as a tomato, it looked out of place against the rest of the man’s dun-colored clothing.

 

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