Page 92 of A Thief to Die For

‘What? What do you mean?’

I wheeze, taking in a laboured breath as Agatha gives a nervous laugh. She really thought she could dance with the devil and not get covered in blood.

‘But,’ Agatha says, ‘y-you said we would only use those weapons for our defence.’

‘This is our defence, girl. We are defending our right to have coal-powered electricity. Why would you object to our progress?’

‘I – I …’

‘Coatl,’ the Commander calls impatiently.

His weight on me disappears, and I greedily gasp in air.

‘Go with Agatha and assemble the explosives to be transported,’ Atlas calls. ‘All of them. Collect the catapults at the lookout posts and wagons, too. We’re going on an extended trip. Hand-select our most loyal guardsmen. But leave Soren. He will be in charge while we’re gone.’

‘And what about Marian?’ Coatl asks.

Silence follows for a few beats. ‘She will be too much of a risk. Same with Ryland. Get Soren to contain them both until we return.’

‘Agatha?’

In the morning, the bed is empty. The bathing chamber too. After a peek out of the window, I find only two guardsmen standing in the rising sunlight. Did the rest trail Agatha?

My jaw tightens. That’s inconvenient. The only thing I woke up certain of is that we’re getting out of here and away from Atlas.

Agatha’s got five minutes before I go after her.

After pumping water from the well behind the cabin, I haul the pail inside and dump it into the shower bucket mounted on the wall. Water sprinkles out of the shower head. It’s freezing but not brain-numbing enough to forget about yesterday or the way Marian looked at me like I’d stabbed her.

I grip the wall. She’s right – I need to go. If the roles were reversed and I had to watch her kiss another man, leave with him to spend the night together – spend every night together from then on …

Raw pain lashes me, and blood pounds in my head. I run a hand over my face, trying to pull myself together. No, leaving is a mercy, and it’s the least I can do after I collect Samuel and Levi. And … Agatha. Somebody else can try to outplay Atlas and salvage this coal dea–

The shower curtain is ripped to the side.

‘Hands up,’ shout multiple guards. Two hold out swords, while one aims a bow at me. A fourth throws my trousers at my face. ‘Get dressed. Someone wants to speak with you.’

‘Why the aggression?’ I ask, as I’m marched deep into the back end of militia territory with untied boots, no shirt and not a weapon on me. Atlas wouldn’t request a meeting out here, which is why I’m cooperating. Despite everything, I can’t help but hope this is Marian summoning me. ‘The terms of my contract with Atlas are fulfilled. I’m not a prisoner.’

‘You shot Soren from close range,’ says a spindly guardsman with a broken tooth. ‘Don’t mind us for being careful.’

My wariness grows as we reach a rickety multi-floor tower. It’s similar to the one from the archery competition and overlooks the same cliff, just further back where nobody would find it. From my count, there are over a dozen lookout posts surrounding Notting territory, but they only keep about half of them manned. This isn’t one of them.

‘Your visitor is inside. In the back room.’

It’s getting harder to believe Marian sent these goons, which puts me on edge. I step inside and Broken Tooth lights a lantern. I’m hit with a foul stench in the chilly air – someone’s been using this building as an outhouse. On my right is a decrepit staircase to the second floor. The lookout.

Bad vibes roll off this place, like it’s filled with ghosts. ‘Marian?’ I call out. I wait one second. Two. Then turn back and make a break for the front door.

Boots pound behind me. One guard grabs my arm, yanking me back. I’m slowed enough for the others to swarm. I land a kick. Throw a right hook and gift Broken Tooth a broken nose. He cries out. But I’m outnumbered. They work together, wrestling me to the back room, and before I know it a metal cuff is clamped on my ankle.

They scurry away, and I lunge after them but jerk to a bone-jarring stop as the metal around my ankle snaps tight.

With a snicker, one retrieves the lantern and hangs it on the wall.

‘This is a breach of our deal!’ I shout at their retreating backs. ‘This voids our coal contract. You tell the Commander he’s getting nothing!’

‘He don’t care about that any more,’ Broken Tooth mutters, then slams the door.