The Thief Queen's Daughter (15 page)

“Oh, no,” Clem whispered. “You’re sure? What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t have any idea,” Ven admitted. He looked at Ida, who was wearing Saeli’s token around her neck. “Thanks for coming in to help look, Ida.” The girl nodded curtly. “I think you both ought to get out of here while you can. Go back to Mouse Lodge, and make sure Nick got home.”

A harsh clanging shattered the air. The children looked out of the alleyway toward the great town gate as it slowly closed, slamming shut with a terrifying
thud
.

“Bright idea, Ven Folly-scheme,” Ida said. “Little too late, though, doncha think?”

“Well, that’s it,” said Char dismally. “Any chance we had of gettin’ out of here just disappeared. I guess we should find somewhere to hide for the night an’ start working on findin’ her in the morning. I don’t think we’re safe in the dark in this place.”

Ida chuckled sourly. “
You
wouldn’t be safe in this place in broad daylight, surrounded by an army.” She turned away and started up the main street toward the Inner Market.

“Ida, where are you goin’?” Char demanded, chasing after her. He grabbed for her wrist, but she twisted away, knocking him onto his backside with the movement of her arm. Ven and Clemency exchanged a glance, then followed her, Ven stopping long enough to pull Char from the ground.

She walked resolutely down the main central street, out of the festival square and into the gray, decaying part of the Outer Market, all the way up to the keyhole gate. The other children trailed behind, exchanging confused and terrified glances.

Ida stopped at the gate, directly in front of the swarthy man with long, greasy black hair. She stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“I want to see my mother.”

T
HE GATE GUARD MOTIONED FOR HER TO COME INSIDE. UP ON
the wall, the archers lowered their weapons.

Ida turned to the others and gestured for them to come.

Ven, Char, and Clem looked at each other.

Ida exhaled in annoyance. “Excuse me a minute,” she said to the huge men and the wiry guard with the greasy hair. She stalked back to the group of children.

“Maybe I should have made this clearer,” she said in a low voice. “You’ve got no chance of gettin’ out of the Market alive if you don’t come with me. Now, decide. Live or die. I don’t care what you choose, but you’re makin’ me look bad, and that’s
very
unwise.”

She turned and walked back to the keyhole gate.

The three exchanged another glance, then hurried after her.

They passed through the iron grating, wincing as it slammed securely shut behind them. Ida didn’t seem to notice. She just continued walking down the middle of the dark street, the sun setting to her left, spilling bloody red light across the unevenly cobbled streets.

As the four walked deeper into the Inner Market, shadows began slinking out of dark alleyways and from around corners of buildings. Many of these people were gray, like the Market itself, and slowly appeared at the edges of their group, walking casually alongside them. The farther away from the keyhole gate they got, the larger the number of people in the group escorting them seemed to become. Ven, Char, and Clemency kept glancing sideways, their anxiety growing as the size of the crowd grew.

Ida just kept her sharp chin high and her focus directly in front of her. She didn’t even glance to the side. And she said absolutely nothing.

A flash of black in the sky caught Ven’s eye. He looked up. Above their heads a flock of birds was circling, moving deeper into the Market with them. Their shadows danced in the red light of the setting sun on the street.

By the time they arrived at a place where streets split off, the people crowd was beginning to murmur and laugh under their breath, a terrifying sound that blended with the raucous noise of the birds above. It was all Ven could do to keep from shaking as he walked. Clemency’s back was rigid, and Char was as pale as Ven had ever seen him.

They turned left at an enormous public well in the center of a street that led toward the harbor. By now darkness had set in, the darkness of coming night adding to the darkness of the crumbling buildings and the mist that hung everywhere. The last light of day was leaving the sky, taking with it any hope Ven still had.

As they turned onto one last street, the crowd began to peel away, leaving only the ravens circling above them.

At the end of that street stood a building larger than any Ven had seen since entering the Market. Like the others inside the Gated City, it had an odor of decay about it, but it was grand in size and scale. Huge pillars of carved dark stone held up the roof, while the walls were formed of sculpted granite with no visible windows in the front. The building seemed to go back forever. A tall tower hovered above the roof in the center, around which more black birds than Ven had ever seen in his life put together were roosting.

Out in front of the building were rich gardens blooming with beautiful flowers, mostly in purple and white, some red, carefully tended. A neat pathway led through the gardens up to the heavy brass door in the center of the windowless wall. In the center of the door was a brass knocker shaped like a raven, its feet clutching a brass necklace set with brass gems. Ven suspected that while this door might be usable, most of the people who entered this establishment did so from other hidden entrances.

“The Raven’s Nest?” he murmured quietly to Ida.

Ida nodded ever-so-slightly in return.

Wonderful,
Ven thought.

Ida marched up the path, the other three close behind, seized the knocker, and banged loudly on the door.

It opened very quickly, as if she was expected.

A thin man with very thin, white hair, an oversized skull and deep-set eyes, was standing in the doorway.

“Miss Ida,” he said in a brittle, thin voice. “So nice to see you back home again. We’ve missed you.”

Ida’s face did not change. “Take me to my mother.”

The thin man smiled unpleasantly. “As you wish.” He held the door open wider so that all of them could enter, then closed it quickly behind them.

It was very dark within the foyer of the Raven’s Nest. A single lantern burned near the doorway, casting light down a long, dark hallway ahead.

The thin man walked over to a wall to the right of the hallway where many long-handled levers jutted. He took hold of two of them and pulled, then moved farther along the wall and pulled a few more.

Horrible grinding noises could be heard down the dark hallway.

Suddenly a wall slid out of the left side of the hall, blocking it off and revealing a different passageway, this one running in the opposite direction.

“They change the entrances and exits bunches of times a day,” Ida muttered under her breath. “Don’t bother to memorize where you are. It’ll be different in a few minutes.”

All three of the others sighed in unison.

The thin man led them down several twisting corridors, all of them without light. Ven could hear Clemency and Char stumble on occasion, but his Nain eyes had little trouble adjusting to the darkness.

After what seemed like forever wandering through hallways that circled back on themselves, they finally came to a place where the corridor ended.

Directly across from them was a wall of rough bricks and stones, mostly dark, on which had been sculpted a huge three-dimensional dragon, cruel-looking and sinister. It had obviously been carved from the stone of the wall, but it was so real-looking that Ven could have sworn he saw its narrow, glinting eyes move. A second later he thought he saw it breathe.

The stone dragon was draped over the top of what appeared to be a keyhole-shaped doorway. Its top claws clutched the lintel above the door, while its lower body hung down the side and curled around the bottom, so that someone would have to step over its tail to enter the doorway.

Instead of empty space, the doorway opening appeared to be made of stone as well. In the center of it was a jumbled pattern of stone puzzle pieces that looked like they formed a key when correctly assembled.

The thin man stepped aside and gestured at the doorway.

“Would you like to open the dragon trap again, Miss Ida?” he asked politely. “It’s always such a thrill to watch you do it, a true artist at work.”

Ida’s stoic expression relaxed into her usual smirk.

“I dunno,” she said. “Are you gettin’ rusty? It would be so much more fun to watch you burn to cinders.”

Ven looked down. On the floor and walls around him were scorch marks, signs of fire and soot. Dust and ash clung to the cracks in the floor.

The thin man smirked in return, then went over to the wall. He stared at the puzzle pieces for a moment, then reached out and carefully slid one into place.

The picture on it disappeared, leaving the stone piece blank.

The children blinked, all but Ida, who was watching intently.

The thief studied the wall again, then selected another puzzle piece. He moved that one lower down, below where the now-blank first piece had been.

The second picture disappeared.

“Oh man,” Char whispered to Ven and Clemency. “That’s
murder
—you have to
remember
what each piece looked like? Who could do a puzzle like that?”

“I bet Ida can,” Clemency said quietly in return. “But I sure wouldn’t want to try.”

The thief moved a third, then a fourth piece into place.

In a flash, the eyes of the dragon shifted. Its gaze was now locked on the white-haired man.

Ida looked over her shoulder at the other children. “You guys may wanna step back,” she said.

The thin man looked up. He glanced at Ida, then up at the dragon above him. Beads of sweat popped out on his pale, oversized forehead.

“I hear it’s painful,” Ida added helpfully. “Gettin’ crisped.”

The expression on the thief’s face hardened. He returned to the puzzle, slowly sliding the remaining pieces into place, as steam began to leak from the dragon’s nostrils. Char and Ven exchanged a glance, and then slowly inched back and away from where the man was standing.

Without turning around, the thief whipped a dagger from his sleeve and heaved it at the floor half a step away from Char’s toes. The knife landed, point stuck into the cracks of the stones, with a metallic
thunk
.

The boys froze in place.

The man returned to his work. Finally, when the last piece of the puzzle was in place, a puff of smoke, but no fire, emerged from the dragon’s nose. The wall within the keyhole doorway separated into many jagged pieces and slid out of the way, leaving an entrance that led down another long hallway, this one so bright that their eyes stung.

The thief let out the breath he had been holding, then turned and smiled at them.

“This way,” he said, gesturing through the doorway.

Ida stepped over the dragon’s tail and into the long corridor beyond, followed by the others. When it ended, the thief opened a door and led them into a bright room with a glass ceiling. The room was filled with even more plants than grew in the gardens out front, most of them fragrant and bursting with flowers.

“Try not to breathe too much in here,” Ida said quietly.

Clemency nodded as she looked around. “Datura, belladonna, white cedar, oleander. These are all very poisonous. The Spice Folk at the inn won’t even speak to the fairies who take care of these plants—they consider them evil.”

“Imagine that,” said Char. “Evil plants in this place. Shockin’.”

At the other end of the garden was a door that opened into a room where a fire was burning on a large hearth. Huge mirrors hung on every wall, reflecting the light of the fire, making the room full of shadows. They followed Ida inside.

That room was also full of glorious plants, tall, twisting vines with trumpet-shaped flowers dangling from them. Mist hung in the air, which was heavy and hard to breathe. On the floor, lazing in the shadows, were many black cats. They watched the children as they entered the room with yellow eyes that glowed eerily in the dark.

The door to the large room closed quietly behind them.

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged back into the Market.”

The voice was low and musical, almost sweet to Ven’s ear. He followed the sound of it to a corner of the room partially hidden in shadow and flowers.

A beautiful woman sat on a gigantic chair of heavily carved dark wood. She had pale skin, long blond hair looped in what looked like nooses, and eyes so black and deep that Ven felt like he was drowning in them when they came to rest on him. A thin silver knife was in her hands, which she was using to clean beneath long neatly manicured red nails, nothing like the black talons on the scale in Madame Sharra’s deck. In fact, if she had not been stretched across a throne in this room of shadows, Ven would have believed she was nothing more than a pretty sailor’s wife, a teacher, or any other normal person.