Locked?
“Haern, look at me,” she said. “Can you pick a lock? Not some apprentice’s creation, I mean a true smith’s lock. I’ve never had the fingers for it, but could you?”
He looked away from her, angling his head so the sun no longer reached through the leaves to light his face. In the shadows, he seemed to grow more confident.
“Your daggers are thin, and I could try. I’d need something else, though, something even thinner.”
She handed him a dagger, then reached into her belt and pulled out a small spyglass. She used it when she needed to be absolutely certain who a person was, when guesswork and reliance on body structure, walk, and clothing would not be enough…or when naming the wrong name could get her killed by all parties involved.
The spyglass wasn’t what she wanted, though. What she wanted was the cord of wire wrapped around the middle to reinforce the fragile creation. Haern saw and nodded happily. He snatched the spyglass from her hands, unwound the wire, and handed the spyglass back.
“How long?” she asked.
“Master Jyr was my teacher,” he said. “When he left, he said I was his fastest student ever.”
Kayla shook her head.
“Not good enough. Tell me, how fast?”
Haern shrugged.
“Two minutes? Three if it’s expertly made.”
“Expect three minutes,” she said. Her blue-green eyes darted about. It wouldn’t be long before a servant or two headed out for the market to fetch fresh eggs and warm bread for when their master broke his fast. The sun had barely risen, perhaps they could go unnoticed. She had seen no guards, but that meant nothing. After five years of warfare, there were always guards.
“Pick the lock as fast as you can,” she told him. “If anyone tries to stop us, I’ll kill them.”
Haern nodded.
“I’ll do my best.”
The ground wasn’t far, but Kayla worried about Haern’s leg. Once they made it to the streets, they could lose themselves in the sea of merchants, tradesmen, and common folk that always swelled in the morning hours. Until then, they’d be horribly vulnerable.
“I’ll help you down,” she said. “Hurry, but don’t injure your knee any further. An open gate does us no good if you can’t walk through it.”
She guided him gently down to the grass. Limping like an old man, Haern approached the closed and barred front gate. Kayla remained hidden in the tree. She was close enough to intercept any guards that might spot him, and she hoped to surprise the first few that might try to stop the boy.
When Haern reached the gate, he knelt down on his good knee, cupped the lock in his hands, and examined it. After a moment, he glanced back to the tree and smiled.
Two minutes, she thought. The gods are kind.
She began counting in her head. At seventeen, she heard a cry of alarm. By twenty-nine, she saw several men run around the side of the estate, all wearing brightly-polished chainmail and brandishing curved longswords. They were five in all, and glumly Kayla checked the daggers at her belt. She had only three left. There would be no whittling them down before they reached her, and she knew veteran killers were underneath that armor. Not good, she thought.
“Up, down, sideways, and every way between…” she muttered. If Haern knew of their approach, he obeyed Kayla’s request and kept his back turned and his eyes focused. Twirling one of her few daggers in her fingers, the woman silently dropped to the grass. One good throw, and she could make it four to one. Her speed was good, so she might blind or wound another before they realized she was there. After that, she might distract them long enough for Haern to open the gates. Would he escape, limping on a busted knee with angry guards chasing after?
“Should have just let you run,” Kayla whispered as she began her sprint. “Easy money is never easy.”
The whole while, she had never stopped her counting.
…thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine…
She chose not to throw her extra dagger. An errant throw might alert them to her presence, and surprise was the only advantage she had. Her heart pounding in her ears, she angled toward them. If she was right, she’d slam into the pack only ten feet away from Haern.
…forty, forty-one, forty-two…
She cut one across the eyes as he turned toward the sound of her charge. Another screamed and fell back, blood pouring out from underneath his arm. Better than expected, Kayla thought as she tried to twirl away. A hand latched onto her short raven hair. Now it was her turn to scream as she felt her scalp tug painfully, her momentum far too great to stop. The guard swore and tossed a handful of hair to the ground.
…fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…
The blinded man staggered back toward the mansion, screaming like a stuck pig the whole time. Two chased after her, slashing the air before her chest and waist with their curved swords. The other man she had stabbed collapsed to the ground, only an occasional moan escaping his pale lips. That left only one to make for Haern.
Their lives depending on it, Kayla hurled a dagger between the two guards chasing her, through the air, and toward Haern’s attacker. The dagger struck true. The man collapsed, a blade embedded in his neck.
…sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four…
Now able to focus solely on the two guards, she went purely defensive. Her daggers could never compete for reach with the swords, but they had seen her throw, and that fear was strong enough for her to work with. As she twirled and dropped, she would randomly pump a hand as if to throw. Each time, one of the guards would back away and hunker down, trying to protect his exposed parts with the bulk of his armor. She never let one go, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before they stopped falling for such a simple trick.
…seventy, seventy-one…
More shouts came from the house. The five they had sent had only been a quick roundup of the outside guard. They had expected only a young boy picking a lock. Now that they saw their own dying, the doors flung open, and a group of at least twenty approached in an impressive collection of swords, armor, and shields.
Kayla laughed, her situation so dire she found it somehow amusing.
“Fuck, seventy-seven, me, seventy-eight, up, seventy-nine, down, eighty…”
Now her opponents stepped back, clearly knowing numbers and time were on their side. They also blocked her way to Haern. Fear clawed at her throat. Accompanying Thren Felhorn’s son into the grounds of Keenan’s estate? She might as well have spat in the Reaper’s face. They would be tortured, killed, and sent back to the Spider Guild in many different sized containers. After five years, the Trifect was desperate for any sort of victory.
…eighty-five, eighty-six…
She heard Haern shout her name. The guards must have seen her own shocked look, and they spared a quick glance. Haern stood before the gates, lock in hand. Men charged after him from the estate, murder on their minds, yet the boy only smiled and hurled the heavy metal contraption toward Kayla’s attackers. When they glanced back, she had already thrown her daggers.
She didn’t wait to see how badly they hurt them. Haern had pushed open the gate for her by the time she arrived. She grabbed his arm as she passed, never slowing. He cried out in pain, but his leg pumped fast as it could go, which was not fast enough.
The guards poured out of the gate, sure to catch them.
For a moment, she thought of ditching the boy and saving her own skin. It would do her no good. Kayla knew she would spend the rest of her life, or at least Thren’s life, waiting for a poisoned dart to jab her neck while she slept. Too many had seen her during their flight. Even if it took years, Thren would find out who she was and deal with her. Some fools might think Thren would have more on his mind while waging war with the Trifect, but Kayla knew better. If you crossed Thren Felhorn, you died. There were never, ever exceptions.
Kayla had hoped to lose herself in a crowd, but the crowd gave way instead, wanting no part of the bloody affair. Kayla spun to face the guards, determined to die fighting rather than in the cells of Keenan’s mansion.
A small quarrel shot into the nearest guard’s throat. Several others fell back as more crossbow bolts whizzed through the air. Kayla grabbed Haern and pulled him down, cradling his head against her breast as she held him
