The next set of lessons proved difficult for Tythonnia and even more so for Par-Salian. It was a step up in daring, robbing a shop in the middle of the night. Par-Salian insisted on keeping a tally of what they stole, to reimburse the shopkeepers when their assignment ended. Ladonna wanted to argue the point, but Par-Salian insisted with a stiff jaw. He saw no reason not to make amends once the mission with Berthal was done.
In the span of four evenings, they robbed two stores of Ladonna’s choosing. One, a barter house, was in the Merchandising District, while the second was a jeweler in the more affluent Palanthas Trade Exchange. In both cases, Ladonna chose places protected with mystical wards. It was time to incorporate magic into their theft, she said, to attract Berthal’s lieutenant.
From the barter house, they stole what people would need to survive: equipment for traveling and monies. From the jeweler, they stole what greed dictated, though Ladonna took longer to pick out certain pieces to nick, all of them antiques. Tythonnia couldn’t be bothered to mention it, even to Par-Salian who decided it best if he served as lookout.
It was on their way back from the second job that Ladonna broke the bad news. As they kept to the shadows and avoided the well-patrolled, main thoroughfares, she told them.
“I think it’s time we redouble our efforts. I say we rob shops in daylight, where people can see us use magic.”
Par-Salian’s jaw seemed to knot up; Tythonnia knew he was upset. “We’ll discuss this later,” he said, his voice dangerously low.
“If you insist,” Ladonna said, her voice equally low and dangerous. They continued on their way home.
The courtyard was dark and empty when they arrived. The Vagros had left the day before, much to Tythonnia’s regret. She’d wanted to spend more time with them, instead of engaging in such messy business. Par-Salian and Ladonna had barely given the Vagros a nod good-bye, but Tythonnia spent an hour speaking with Grandmother Yassa and Kandri in the privacy of their wagon. It was like talking with family.
Sebastian also told Tythonnia she’d be welcome among them if she ever needed shelter or traveling companions. She thanked him for his hospitality then watched him usher along five new kender as though they were his most beloved children.
Tythonnia looked around the courtyard and felt hollow for its emptiness. Ladonna stopped, however, and hissed at the others to freeze. Par-Salian complied and Tythonnia immediately noticed the exterior lanterns had been extinguished, heightening the darkness in the courtyard. Before any of them could react, however, several figures seemed to appear from the shadows. Tythonnia felt the blade against her throat before she even realized someone was behind her.
Four men and a woman emerged into view. All of them were lean and masked by black cloth hoods that covered their lower faces. One man held Tythonnia to absolute stillness with the edge of a short sword pressed to her throat. The same held true for Par-Salian. The remaining three surrounded Ladonna, each ready to gut her. Only the man facing her, however, seemed confident and relaxed. Tattoos covered his arms, and he spun the two daggers expertly as he stood there.
“Little thief, little thief, welcome back home,” the man said.
“Sutler,” Ladonna replied. “You’re still alive? I’m surprised nobody’s crushed you under their boot yet.”
Sutler pulled his mask down, revealing a roadwork of scars. “They’ve tried,” he said. “Care to finish their work, little thief?”
Ladonna purred at the thought. She smiled. “In good time. What brings you here?” she asked casually.
“You left the guild. Nobody leaves the guild,” he replied. “You came back. Even dumber of you. But to rob guild-protected shops? You must be feeling downright suicidal. I came by to help you with that.”
Guild-protected shops? Tythonnia thought. Her strength fled; her stomach fluttered wildly. She could see it in Ladonna’s gaze, the guile, the machinations playing out. She was enjoying their situation; she felt in control. She’s out for revenge, Tythonnia realized. She used us to bring these people here so she could …
“Ladonna?” Par-Salian said carefully. His attacker pressed the knife to his throat.
“Shut up,” Ladonna said. “Let me do the talking.”
Sutler smiled and nodded to Par-Salian. “And who is this, little thief? Your boyfriend? Too pretty for your tastes,” he said. The knives in his hands danced between his fingers. “We simply can’t have you courting someone prettier than you.”
Tythonnia’s eyes widened. Par-Salian was in trouble; they all were. She looked to Ladonna for help, but the cool, calm gaze of her compatriot was gone. In its place was a feral expression: anger, hatred, pain. The real Ladonna was showing through, Ladonna the street urchin, Ladonna the animal, Ladonna the hurt.
“We can’t all like little girls,” Ladonna said; her voice seemed to chill the air.
In an instant, the mood changed. Tythonnia felt her assailant inhale ever so slightly, a small, panicked gasp that was shared in the glances of the other thieves. Whoever Sutler was, he was not a man to cross. Everyone there feared him, down to his own foot soldiers.
Sutler’s face contorted in anger. He bared his yellowed teeth and strode up to Ladonna. She stood her ground, however, her face turned up to his in defiance. The rogue’s blade flashed in his hands and across her face. Ladonna yelped in pain and immediately pressed her palm against the cut on her cheek, but the blood flowed freely over her fingers. His hands danced again, and another cut appeared on her exposed arm, then another.
Ladonna stumbled back and the woman behind her pushed her forward. Sutler caught Ladonna by the jaw.
“What was that, little thief?” Sutler said.
Despite the cuts to her face and her arm, Ladonna stared at him with an unflinching gaze. “I’ve suffered worse at your hands,” she said then looked at Tythonnia. She smiled. “And one more thing,” she said, turning her gaze back to Sutler. “I’m no longer ‘little thief.’”
As Ladonna’s claws dug into Sutler’s chest, she cried, “Halilintar sentu!”
Electricity sparked and danced between her fingers and into Sutler. He screamed and jerked as the threads of static leaped across his body and plunged between the links of his chain armor.
Tythonnia kept her hands in front of her as she locked her fingers in three quick movements.
“Sihir anak!” she whispered. One dart of light curled back and struck the man holding her. He screamed and pulled away without drawing her blood. Another struck the man holding Par-Salian. He, too, stumbled back as Par-Salian shrugged him off and prepared his own spell. The final two darts struck the man and the woman behind Ladonna, stopping them from falling upon her.
Sutler slashed out, cutting Ladonna across the ribs with his blade. She dodged another swing, but already her hands and mouth were moving with the dance of another spell. Par-Salian cracked his wrists together, producing a bell-like clang from the bracers around his wrists. The air around his body shimmered with heat, and three blazing arrows appeared. They shot out, their paths straight and true.
The first arrow repaid Tythonnia for her favor by striking the man behind her. He cried out in pain as a patch of clothing caught fire. The second arrow caught the woman behind Ladonna in the abdomen. She gasped and went limp, falling to the ground. She didn’t stir again. Unfortunately, the third arrow missed its mark. The other man flanking Ladonna barely managed to twist away, avoiding the bolt that struck the stone wall behind him. It vanished in a blazing pop. The cutthroat stabbed at Ladonna, catching her across the back. Whatever magic she had in store vanished from her lips in that moment of pain. The spell was lost. Ladonna was defenseless against Sutler and the other attacker.
Tythonnia saw everything happening too quickly, her own reactions too slow. The man behind Par-Salian was already at his back again, his dagger poised to strike; Ladonna fell into the mud, bleeding and flanked by two men who eyed her throat with a predatory gleam. The man behind Tythonnia scrambled to get up.