After eating, Lucia took Benj by the hand and led him down a passageway toward the middle of the building to a red door. She opened the door to a round room with a domed ceiling made of Iron and wood. In the center, a tall, angry-looking man leaped over a wooden barricade, rolled under a log suspended by two ropes, and stabbed a dummy with a long, sharp dagger. He pulled the thin blade from the dummy's straw heart and slowly turned his head toward them.
"Sorry," Lucia apologized, backing out of the room and pulling Benj after her. "Thought no one was in here."
"What was that all about?" Benj asked as she shut the door after him.
"Come on, I'll tell you when we're in private." She whispered, ushering him away.
They walked through several passages. Benj tried to remember every twist and turn to escape later, and he took mental notes as one turn led to another. Lucia took a lantern off a desk and led him up a spiral staircase that seemed to take forever. He felt they should be nearing the top as the stairs got more and more narrow. Lucia stopped on a small platform leading farther up and rested, waiting for Benj to catch up.
"Tired?" Benj asked when he had caught up to her.
"Dizzy," she replied and added, "Don't worry about the boyfriend comment from earlier. It's hard to explain, but I thought that if everyone knew I had chosen you, then maybe the idea of me being taken would solidify in their minds."
"It's no problem," Benj said, leaning back to make more space between them. He was conscientious about how close they were standing to each other and nervously tried to put distance between them. The platform they both stood on was a slightly bigger step in the tight circular staircase. She stood close, and her breath cooled the skin around his face and neck. He felt his body wanting to draw closer to her despite also wanting nothing to do with her or her gang of thieves.
"Come on. It's not that much further," she tugged on his shirt and continued upward, causing the steep staircase to twist around the lantern light. At the top, she unlatched the door and swung it outward, spilling soft sunlight on their faces. Through the door, Benj could see the rooftops and spires of the entire city. The sun was setting behind the mountains in the West, leaving behind a vibrant orange and violet hew.
"Welcome to the roof," she said, walking out to showcase the view. The wind blew gentle gusts of cold air that seemed to change directions at random intervals.
"It's nice up here," Benj said, awestruck by the city's canopy.
"And it's secluded enough to talk." She added, waving him forward. "There doesn't seem to be any unwelcome assassins lurking about."
They sat on the ledge of the building, feet hanging over a massive drop to a busy street below. A moment of silence passed as they both collected their thoughts and soaked in the view.
"You told me you were John's daughter," Benj said in a slightly accusing voice.
"I am John's daughter," Lucia crossed her arms. "I didn't lie to you about that. I thought you said you owned a bakery. Why are you here?"
"I am a baker," Benj replied carefully. "But I was only an apprentice when we met. I'm a full baker now, if that makes a difference, but I did lie to you about owning the place. I might have been trying to impress you. I don't know what I was thinking when I did that, but I'm sorry."
"I hope you're sorry," she huffed. "I was going to run away to that little village and marry you. The only thing that kept me from leaving was caring for my dad. He's in some trouble."
"John's in trouble? What kind of trouble?" Benj wondered before registering the rest of what she had said. "And who said I would marry you in the first place? Two people have to agree to be married."
"I guess I was looking for a way out," she muttered, half to herself. "And then I met you. I thought, "I could enjoy the simple life as a plump, old baker's wife," so I planned to come back as a last resort.
It got quiet between the two.
"What happened to your father?" Benj asked, but then remembered the question that was really burning in his chest, "Was that man back there an assassin? Is that why you were so afraid of him?"
"Now isn't the time to talk about my father's problems. Maybe we will soon," Lucia positioned her body on the ledge so she could face him. "And first of all, I wasn't afraid. Secondly, if anything, I want to know about how you saved my life back there."
"Now isn't a good time to talk about how I saved your life," Benj retorted with the same tactic she had just used. "Why do they call you Bash?"
Lucia shot him a look of irritation. "I'll tell you about Bash if you tell me how you got Gallows' ring. You're not even from Thannon; I know where you're from."
Benj let the offer hang in the air.
"Don't worry, you can trust me." She added, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And you need me if you're ever going to learn what a 'point' actually does."
"You make a good point," Benj said accidentally, resisting another urge to extend his index finger.
"And you will, too, when I'm done with you," she laughed once. "Just so we're clear, you're an imposter who has saved my life, and I'm a woman of great mystery, but if we don't get you up to date on how everything works around here, nothing will matter. Until then, you and I will just have to trust each other with our lives."
Benj agreed, and they shook hands.
"Where do I start?" She asked herself out loud, "The Crownsmiths are an organization started a couple hundred or so years ago to rid the city of some horrible tyrant. The goal was to remove a bad king from the throne and replace him with a good one. The organization has evolved but has fancied itself a political equalizer ever since.
"There are three factions within the Crownsmiths, the Overseers, Executioners, and Levelers: basically, planners, assassins, and thieves. Reese is the head of the thieves, which is consequently the guild you just got involved in."
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Benj shot her a doubtful glance. "I can't help but feel like you're not giving yourself enough credit for that."
"Now, now," She objected and continued, "The executioners are the assassins. That man you saw earlier who was stabbing the ever-living straw out of the training dummy was one of them. Don't worry; they won't bother you if you don't bother them."
Benj seemed to recall someone saying that once about mountain wolves.
She raised a finger and corrected herself, "But stay away from them as much as possible."
"Got it." He said, gently pushing her finger out of his face.
"The Overseers, or planners," she continued, "Are made up mostly of the upper class and gentry, but we don't really know who they are, so they could be anyone. When crooked people enter court politics, the planners put that person up for a private vote. If the vote is unanimous, they make a plan to get rid of them. They also oversee other aspects of the community; I'm not sure what they do; the thieves' guild never meets them."
"So, they're kind of the good guys?" He asked.
"Oh no." She laughed cynically. "Some are, maybe, but there will always be someone who takes advantage of their position. I've heard some overseers write up jobs for relatively good people just because the target is wealthy or won't sell their property to them. I've heard there have been jobs for people over simple offenses. Sometimes, I wonder if the planners even exist and if we just do these jobs to keep the organization alive.
"Tomorrow, the job is for a noble who bought the assassinations of several Crownsmith members. We only found out because, apparently, their assassin knew ours. Somehow, word got out, and now it's back to the Creator for him and another day of work for us. You have to take the good with the bad sometimes.
"As the Crownsmith has evolved, they added another faction into the mix. They refer to it as an investment branch. They do stuff like lending money to people like my father for wild interest rates, building brothels, and selling protection. Gallows is in charge of most of that branch. He also works some jobs with us."
"How did you become a part of all of this?" He asked,
"I can't very well be a woman of mystery if I told you that on our first date." She teased.
"I wouldn't call this a date, but if anyone asks," he continued, "how should we tell them we met?"
"We met while I was traveling through Thannon," She said, adding, "You were quite smitten with me, as I recall."
"Now, now," Benj had been waiting to say that back to her. "You came through with your wagon, and we talked. That's all there is to it."
"I can agree, but we will have to work out the rest later," she said before continuing her lecture. "Before I forget, a basic team consists of three parts, locks, baggers, and a point. The person in charge of locks is responsible for getting in. That's usually me. If I have time to pick a locked door, I will try my best, but most of the time, I'll sneak in through an open window or smash through it. Baggers are just people with bags. It's their job to grab everything that will fit in it and stuff it in. The point has maybe three jobs. First, you are responsible for going in and looking for people. If you are spotted or chased, simply leave through of the door you came in from, stay in sight, and someone will hit them over the head. After the place is clear, your job is to find all the very expensive and hidden treasures while leaving the easy-to-find items alone. Check behind paintings and bookshelves, and look for secret compartments."
"If a housekeeper is in the house, what do I do?" Benj asked for clarification.
"By the time we show up to sack the house, anyone who is supposed to be dead will be dead already. Anyone else just needs to be tied up for the evening."
"Oh," Benj said. "That-" he cleared his throat, "makes sense."
"If the house is confirmed empty by the point, we all go in as baggers. There's a little bit more to it, but I want to show you this first," Lucia said, pulling out a small box and offering it to Benj. "Here, take it."
Benj took the box and opened it to find a bracelet of thin twisted rope with a grey metallic orb in the middle. The orb had a foreign script engraved in small letters wrapping around from one string point to the other. He picked it up and inspected it, holding it by the string.
"You have to blow on it for it to work," Lucia instructed.
He blew on it. "Like this?"
"Harder." She corrected.
Benj blew in loud huffs. He blew until he was lightheaded. Lucia's smile grew bigger until she couldn't contain her laughing.
"Okay," She said, wiping a tear from her eye. "I think it's good now."
Benj looked at her with a cautious eye and then realized he had been tricked. "You don't need to blow on it, do you?"
"No, silly," she said, still recovering. "Just put it on."
He coiled the bracelet around his wrist, and the world exploded with movement. The air around him mixed in chaotic and rhythmic patterns like the flames and heat of a fire. There wasn't a color, but somehow, he could see waves as if seeing the wind for the first time.
"Weird, right?" She said with an assault of words that bounced harmlessly off him in close circles, rippling around and off him. He took the bracelet off.
"What is this thing?" He asked, holding it pinched between his fingers like a dead rat.
"It's a Soundsight," she said. "It mixes what you hear with what you see. I personally hate using it. It makes me sick to my stomach. Now, turn around, plug your ears, and count to ten. Then, put it on and see if you can find me."
Benj turned around and complied. As soon as he was finished counting, he put on the bracelet and looked around. The roof had many places to hide; there were old clay pots, pieces of bricks, and debris in piles scattered everywhere. Various waves of sound bounced up and around the walls of the building. Every footstep and conversation from the street twisted up and around the roof's edge and blended.
He looked carefully around until he saw what he was looking for - small, almost imperceptible lines came from behind a wall holding a small brass bell.
"Found you," he said, walking toward the wall.
"That was fast," Lucia said from behind him.
Benj froze and slowly turned to see her standing behind a large clay pot. It wasn't where he expected she was.
They met eyes. Lucia saw the look of concern on his face.
"What is it?" she asked, with waves of sound protruding through her mouth.
He pointed toward where the sound had come from, where it was still coming from. She stepped back and waved to him to follow, but Benj pressed forward. Lucia made frantic gestures to stop him, but all her efforts fell on deaf eyes.
Benj moved soundlessly towards the wall. Thick boots stepped between rocks and chipped mortar, creating waves of distractions. He moved his head slowly, glancing around the corner to see what or who was back there. He saw movement, and then two eyes shot right at him. He jumped, and Lucia dove back between the clay pots where she had first hidden.
The eyes belonged to a grey cat that scurried away after being surprised.
"You can come out now," he said, watching the cat scamper off.
"What was that?" She asked, standing up with relief.
"A cat," he replied. "What did you think it was?"
"I don't know," she said, carefully navigating the obstacles around her. "There are plenty of dangerous people here. I don't like taking any chances. Don't scare me like that."
"I've never seen anybody move so fast to hide from a cat," Benj jabbed at her pride.
"You're the one who turned white," she accused. "It's getting dark anyway; we should start moving down."
Benj followed Lucia down the stone stairs and through the Crownsmith Cathedral until she reached an intersection and stopped.
"You're that way," She gestured. "They have you in the first door to the left. That's where they put all the guests. I'm this way." She leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm in the second door to the right if you need somewhere to hide from another cat."
Instead of pointing out that she would more likely need to hide from a cat, he wished her good night. She wished him likewise and went to bed.
Benj found his room. It was small but cleaner than the inn he slept in the previous night. He found his saddlebags on the floor beside his bed with the sword on top. He wondered if the sword would be recognizable. He could always say that he borrowed it if anyone asked. As he sank into bed, he couldn't help but feel his future loom ahead like the gallows loomed before a damned man.