Chapter 1

My fingers gripped the cold, uneven bricks as I scaled the townhouse's wall and felt the evening's damp chill seep through my gloves. As my thin-soled acrobat shoes found precarious purchase on the narrow ridges, my heart pounded with both the exertion and the thrill. I pulled myself up, muscles straining, and finally reached the roof. Crouching there to survey the surroundings, I savored the exhilaration mixed with the threat of danger.

I enjoyed the rooftops of Sageport. There was a sense of freedom up there that was hard to come by in the bustling city below. The rooftops were my haven, my escape. I was struggling to make my way in a new city, but they were a place I could leave expectations and ambition behind and simply be.

From the roofs, I could see the entire city spread out beneath me, a maze of cobblestones and narrow alleys. I could watch the sun rise over the Temple of Dawn, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink. Or I could see the flickering lanterns of the night markets and the pools of warm light cast by gas lamps in the Azure District. On clear nights when there was no moon, I could even see the distant glimmer of the Fae Council's castle in Mercia.

Tonight, moonlight bathed the rooftops in a silvery glow, while the streets below remained shrouded in shadow. I would have preferred to delay my mission until a moonless night, but the Guild of Thieves and Spies wanted Emil free from the local lock-up before the City Enforcers transferred him to Ironhold Penitentiary. Once there, security would be much tighter, and the chances of freeing him would plummet. Success on this mission could give me the boost I needed for my standing within the guild.

From my perch on a neighboring roof, I studied the imposing stone structure that housed the City Enforcers' holding cells. The building's walls were bathed in a ghostly blue light, courtesy of the magical alarms that protected it. As a human, I did not have the magic to negate those alarms, but they had one weakness—they were not designed to detect someone coming from above. Someone like me.

A grin crept across my face as I ran my fingers over the sleek, sturdy rope coiled over my shoulder. The anticipation sent shivers of excitement down my spine, and I felt the adrenaline surging within me like wildfire. I found a place to hide my bow and quiver of arrows behind a chimney. As much as I hated to leave them behind, I knew they would be more hindrance than help on this mission. Agility and stealth would free Emil, not a ranged weapon.

I secured my long hair in a ponytail to keep it out of my way and made one last check of my gear. Then, with silent steps, I slipped to the edge of the rooftop and uncoiled my rope. I tied a loop in one end and waited, watching. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter of the building, their silhouettes moving like wind-up toys in the darkness. My eyes followed the pattern of their rounds, ready for the perfect moment to make my move.

When the guards were on the far side of the building, I tossed the loop end of my rope across the gap that separated the Enforcers' roof from the one I stood on. It dropped over a large, wrought iron weathervane shaped like a griffin, the symbol of the City Enforcers. Quickly tying the rope to a vent on my rooftop, I gave it a tug, making sure it was snug and unyielding.

My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the rope, and I took a deep breath to center myself. Then I climbed onto the rope, rolled upside down, and shinnfied across with a speed honed by years of practice. I had no love for the circus troupe my starving family had sold me to as a little girl, but they had taught me well. Acrobatics, rope climbing, and archery had all been relentlessly drilled into me, and punishment for mistakes had been swift and harsh.

When I reached the neighboring rooftop, I unwrapped my legs from the rope and dropped lightly to the ledge of an upper-story window. I paused to listen for any sign of people inside. Hearing nothing, I slipped a thin, flat piece of metal between the window sashes and popped the lock. I doubted the lower-story windows were so poorly secured, but who knew? Maybe they were overly confident in their magical security.

I eased the window open and slid inside, just a phantom in the darkness. I found myself in a narrow corridor painted a dull gray and lit only by the moonlight peeking through the windows. Closed doors lined both sides, some with sophisticated-looking locks. A guild report had noted that this floor was devoted to office space, so I opened an unlocked door and peeked in at a battered wooden desk, sagging swivel chair, and a filing cabinet. It looked like the Fae Council didn't believe in spending money on Enforcer décor or comfort.

I hurried to a staircase at the end of the hall, my flexible shoes soundless on the scuffed, bare wooden floor. Pausing at the next landing, I listened for any indication that guards had learned of my presence. Sleepy, bored voices drifted up the stairwell from the floor below, but I heard nothing on this floor.

With a sigh of relief, I cracked the door and cautiously peeped in. As expected, this was the level with the holding cells, each housing those deemed undesirable by the city's elite before being transported to Ironhold and what passed for a trial. My fellow guild member was one such occupant, captured and imprisoned during an Enforcer raid on one of our safe houses.

From a hook on my belt, I lifted a small drawstring pouch and upended it onto my palm. A white cube the size of a gambling die tumbled out, and I ran my finger over it, searching for the tiny activation knob. When pressed, the cube emitted a soft green glow, indicating the absence of magical wards. I had purchased it shortly after arriving in the city from a dealer in black-market magical artifacts and, although expensive, it was worth every penny.

Dropping the cube back into its pouch, I moved through the shadows, careful not to wake the sleeping prisoners. According to our information, the next guard check would occur in half an hour, and I didn't want anyone making noise before then.

The cells were cramped with cold, gray stone walls that reflected the flickering light from a sputtering torch in the hallway. Thick iron bars fronted each small room, furnished only with a chamber pot. The smell of stale air, mold, and unwashed bodies assaulted my nostrils, and I wished I'd worn a scarf to pull up over my nose.

I reached Emil's cell and found him asleep on the bare floor. Without a word, I pulled out my picks and carefully inserted them into the lock, feeling the resistance and intricacies of the mechanism. I closed my eyes to concentrate, and the lock surrendered to me with a satisfying snick. Smiling to myself, I shook out my fingers. This was another skill I'd learned from the troupe, even though I'd never performed as an escape artist.

Emil woke with a start as the cell door squeaked open. He blinked rapidly several times before his face relaxed. "Ziola, thank the gods you're here."

"Shhh," I whispered. "I don't want any of these other poor sods to wake."

Emil nodded and stiffly rose from the floor. His light brown hair hung limply around his face, and he had the beginnings of a black eye. Dirt coated his clothing, and his shirt was torn. One reddish-brown stain looked suspiciously like dried blood. He had not been treated well and my throat tightened in sympathy.

"Too late," a hoarse voice said from a neighboring cell.

I glanced over to see a broad-shouldered man in rough-spun clothes with bronze skin and large, dark eyes watching me. His silvery-gray hair floated around his shoulders, catching the dim light of the corridor torch and gleaming like moonlit water. He smelled faintly of the ocean, and I wondered if he was a fisherman or stevedore.

Ignoring him, I turned back to Emil and said, "How badly did they beat you? Can you run?"

He grunted and rubbed his sternum. "I'll be fine. Lead the way."

I started back down the corridor, Emil at my heels, when the hoarse voice called, "What about me?"

I spun around. "What?"

"Let me out too."

"For all I know, you're a rapist. You're on your own."

He huffed out a sigh. "I agitate against fae policies. I'm not a rapist."

I shook my head. "Sorry, but there's no time to release everyone. The guards will be back soon."

"Or I could start yelling and bring the guards right now." He smiled broadly, displaying a lot of very white teeth that almost looked pointed in the low light.

I shivered and looked at Emil, who shrugged. "Let them all out," he said. "If we can't escape quietly, the distraction will help."

Resigned, I pulled my picks back out and reached for the first lock. There were only five other prisoners, so it didn't take long, and they remained blessedly silent while I worked. As soon as I finished, I grabbed Emil's hand and towed him into the stairwell. I heard footsteps heading in all directions and a single voice rasping, "Thank you."

The stairwell door clicked shut behind us and we climbed. Before we reached the next floor landing, I heard voices shouting from below and an alarm started to blare. I threw the door open and raced down the corridor to the window I had left open. Emil lagged behind and I suspected he was in more pain than he admitted.

"Move," I urged, trying to pull him faster.

He grimaced but nodded and kept going. When we got to the window, I shoved him out to the ledge and scrambled after him. Emil was breathing hard and holding his chest. I studied him and chewed my lip, not sure he could handle the climb. Unfortunately, we had no other options.

I yanked an extra set of leather gloves from my pocket and handed them to him. With shaking hands, he pulled them on and looked at me.

"Wait," I said. Bending my knees, I sprang up, grasped the edge of the roof, and flipped up onto it. I lay flat on my belly and wiggled to the edge, hanging my arms down to Emil.

"Grab my hands," I told him.

Emil raised his arms and then jumped. I caught his hands and heaved with all my might while his feet scrabbled for purchase on the rough stone exterior. Emil was slender, and I had good upper body strength for my size, but he outweighed me by at least fifty pounds. My arms felt like they were coming out of the sockets, and I was panting from the strain when I finally dragged him over the edge.

As his feet cleared the eave, boots thundered in the corridor we had just left. It wouldn't be long before they noticed the unlocked window and realized where we had gone. I wanted to take a moment to catch my breath, but we were out of time. Peering down at the street, I saw Enforcers running around like ants, but so far, none were looking up. I pushed Emil onto the rope and watched as he crept across like an inchworm on a vine.

The seconds felt like years as I held my breath, my gaze fixed on him. My muscles tensed, ready to act if anything went wrong, while he edged forward, deliberate and cautious. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the noise of the Enforcers pursuing us. I willed Emil to move faster, torn between urging him forward and fear of drawing attention to him.

At last, he reached the other side, and I let out a silent breath of relief. He had made it. Now it was my turn. I leaped forward, catching the rope before swinging my legs up and shooting forward. Halfway across, I glanced back and saw an Enforcer clamber up onto the roof. Cursing, I forced my legs to propel me faster.

A moment later, a knife glinted in the moonlight as the Enforcer brought it down on my rope. With a snap, the fibers parted, and I fell. Clinging desperately to my lifeline, I twisted so that I hit the side of the building with my feet, absorbing the impact with my knees and hips. Better than slamming into the bricks with my back, but it still hurt. Ignoring the ache, I curled my legs around the rope and shinnied up as fast as I could.

Emil was crouched on the slate roof, rubbing his chest and panting. His condition alarmed me, and I was worried he couldn't keep running.

"Can you breathe?" I asked.

"It's hard," he wheezed. "They worked me over with their fists. Can't get enough air."

"Hells." As soon as the Enforcer on the roof reported to his cohorts, they'd swarm the streets below. I prayed that the other prisoners were keeping some of them occupied. With a quick tug, I released my rope's knot and pulled what remained back up. My heart thudded as I retrieved my bow and quiver and pushed Emil up the peaked roof.

"There's a downspout on the other side," I said. "I'll tie the rope around your waist to support you, but can you climb down?"

"I'll manage." His breathing sounded even more labored. He would never be able to evade them in a chase.

"When you hit the street, go. Don't wait for me. I'll draw them off."

He turned worried eyes to me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Truthfully, I'll be faster on my own. I'll meet you back at the guildhall."

When Emil's feet were back on the ground and he had untied the rope, I gave him a wave. I watched until he was halfway down the narrow back alley before drawing an arrow and raising my bow. Sighting on a chimney pot three buildings away, I loosed the arrow and watched in satisfaction as the pot rolled off the roof and crashed onto the cobblestones below. I jumped across the narrow gap between my roof and the next and repeated the process—this time hitting a decorative urn farther down the street.

As soon as I was certain the Enforcers had taken the bait and were headed in the other direction, I turned, ran down the sloped roof, and leaped across the ten-foot alley Emil had escaped through. Then I fled across the rooftops.

By the time I reached one of the rougher neighborhoods, my muscles were quivering from a cocktail of adrenaline and exhaustion that made every movement feel both jittery and leaden. Descending a brick wall was a circus trick I'd done a thousand times, but fatigue made my steps less sure, my grip less steady. Suddenly, my concentration lapsed for a heartbeat and the bow that was slung over my shoulder caught on a ledge, shifting my balance. The bow flew off and clattered to the cobblestones below. I let out a soft shriek and panic flared as my foot slipped. Then the ground was rushing up to meet me with an inevitability that scattered my wits.

Unexpectedly, a figure emerged from the shadows and strong arms caught me, breaking my fall. The shock of the impact forced the air from my lungs, and for a moment, I lay gasping in his arms like a fish. The man's grip was firm but gentle, providing an anchor in the swirling chaos of my mind. I could feel the rise and fall of his hard chest, and the warmth of his body against mine in stark contrast to the cool night air. A sense of security enveloped me, a comfort I hadn't known for a very long time.

As I regained my bearings, I looked up into piercing blue eyes, and my still-pounding heart skipped a beat. High cheekbones, a narrow chin, and a straight nose that tapered to a slight point gave his face a sculpted appearance, while full, well-defined lips balanced the angular features. Not quite shoulder-length hair was tucked back behind his ears, and a day-old beard darkened his firm jaw. Even in my flustered state, there was no denying he was very attractive.

"I don't know how to thank you," I wheezed, still feeling breathless.

"No need. It's not every night that pretty girls rain down from the rooftops," he said with a rakish grin. His voice was smooth and silky and flowed over my skin. "Can you stand?"

"Yes." The heat rose to my cheeks as I realized he was still holding me. "Yes, of course."

He carefully placed me on my feet, holding my arm for a moment until I was steady. "Do you need help getting home?"

"No. Really, I'm fine. Just a little shaky." My legs were wobbly and my breathing uneven, but thanks to this stranger I was none the worse for wear.

"I'll be off, then."

I stared after him, slack jawed, as he vanished into the darkness as abruptly as he'd appeared. Who was this man who'd emerged from the shadows to catch a falling thief?