Page 3 of For the Love of the Quest

With a curse, the barman spit on the floor and thrust Edith toward the newcomer, who caught her by the shoulders and looked down at her with a barely restrained snarl. “The boss wants to see you.”

Edith brushed the wrinkles from her skirt and threw a pointed glare at the barman. “That’s what I thought.”

She was led not through the door behind the bar but instead up a shadowy staircase near the back of the room. She counted the flights as they went, and on the seventh and final floor, they stopped in front of a door that was painted pitch-black.

The slender man knocked three times, turned the handle, then pushed Edith through the doorway before slamming it closed again between them.

She stumbled alone into the dimly lit room. It was a long, rectangular chamber, with slanted walls that came to a point above her. The attic.What an odd place for a crime boss,Edith thought, her eyes widening at the almost cozy feel of the little chamber.

A tapping noise drew her attention to the far side of the room. There, shrouded in shadow, was a figure in an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair. Not that one could tell from the way the person was lounging in it. Their back rested against one arm, and their long legs were carelessly thrown over the other.

Edith cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Are you in charge of the Sunless Syndicate?”

“That’s what they tell me,” came a low voice with just a hint of raspiness. The figure’s head tilted up, and although Edith could make out a mass of long curly hair, the features were still lost in shadow. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

Edith felt her cheeks flush at the endearment. The cadence of the person’s speech was vaguely familiar, but she brushed the thought away due to its impossibility. “Actually, it’s what I can do for you,” she said.

“Oh, really?” The figure swung their legs from the armrest.

After a steadying breath, her fingers tingling in anticipation, the words that she had practiced fell from her lips. “My name is Edith Darling, and I have an opportunity for you. An opportunity to change the world.”

“Tell me more.”

Edith opened her mouth to continue her speech, but all thought fled from her mind when the person in the chair leaned forward and into the light.

Because the most dangerous criminal, the boss of the most feared syndicate in England, was a woman. And not just any woman, but the highwaywoman herself.

“It’s you,” Edith breathed, absolutely stunned by her good fortune, but also struck by the oddness of it. She couldn’t fathom why a crime boss would be out committing petty thievery alone. Whatever the reason, though, she was glad for it.

“It’s me,” the highwaywoman said with mock surprise. “Thomasin Shaw, leader of the Sunless Syndicate, at your service.” If the woman had appeared ruthless before, she seemed deadly now. Her hair, released from the knot, was an unruly mane of curls, darkest brown, almost black. Something like charcoal or ash was smeared across her brow and painted around her eyes, giving the impression that they were staring out at Edith from a night sky.

Laced all the way up to her neck was a leather contraption somewhere between jacket and bodice. The trousers, too, were black leather that clung tightly to her form. Edith could barely move past the fact that the woman was wearing trousers at all, let alone contemplate the sheer number of knives strapped along her legs. More than seemed reasonable.

The woman cleared her throat, and Edith dragged her attention back up her body, only to be newly impressed by the pistols hanging at her hips, and the even more knives buckled along her torso that Edith hadn’t noticed at first.

Catching Edith’s rapt attention, the syndicate boss laid a hand on the pistol that she had pointed at Edith only hours earlier. She smiled at Edith’s perusal of her.

For a split second, Edith wondered what in the hell she was doing. Fear mounted in her throat, and she wished that she weresafe at home, among her familiar things and favorite books, with people who maybe only tolerated her but who would never actually harm her. With her grandmother right down the hall if she got too lonely.

But the fear was gone as quickly as it had come. This criminal didn’t scare Edith. She looked like a villain plucked straight from the pages of her favorite stories, and that was what Edith had always wanted—to live in a story. So it wasn’t fear that sped up her heartbeat now; it was excitement.

Chapter Two

The girl with her fancy dress, bright-red face, and mouth hanging open like a fish was quite possibly the most adorable thing Thomasin Shaw had ever seen. To be fair, though, adorable things didn’t come along often in her line of work. Gruesome things, vile things, sometimes even funny things. But never adorable ones, and never twice in one day.

So consistent was the monotony of terrible that those gruesome, vile things had all just faded into boring. Thomasin’s instincts told her that this bizarre girl who had shared bread with her was anything but boring, and if she had learned anything, it was that her instincts were never wrong.

Edith’s round face was framed by loose strands of sand- colored hair. They must have fallen from the elaborate style that held the rest of her locks prisoner atop her head. She tucked the strands behind her ears. Ears, Thomasin noted, that had gone very red. Thomasin’s lips tilted up into the beginnings of a smile.

“This isn’t a very convincing pitch,” Thomasin drawled.

The girl’s mouth snapped shut, and she straightened her shoulders with awkward urgency. One of her hands came to rest purposefully on something in her bag. “I am here to hire your services. You see, I am embarking on a quest that will change the world’s understanding of history, science, even religion. All I need to accomplish this is an escort. The journey will be perilous, and I unfortunately do not possess the worldly skills that someone in your profession might have.” She finished her obviously practiced speech with a huff of breath.

“So, you want someone to do your dirty work?” Thomasin pointed a lazy finger at Edith.

“No! Not anything so nefarious. It’s quite a noble que—”

“Noble? You’ve lost my interest there, dear.”