“The good news is, he’s not seriously expecting anyone,” Kildare told Fir. “He’s sitting with his legs crossed—it gives him a slower response time.”

  “Slow enough that you can get there before he screams a warning?” Fir asked.

  Kildare gnawed on the inside of his lip. “Maybe if I shifted.”

  “We could go back outside and get up to the window.”

  “Might be the least risky idea of them all,” Kildare agreed. “Let’s get moving before someone decides to check the servants’ stairs.”

  As they headed back down the stairs, Kildare reached out past his own stressed breathing, the creaks of the house as it settled around them. Waited to feel any breath of wind across his face.

  Nothing.

  They left by the same window that Snitch and Serene had used to get in and slunk along the foundation of the house. The fireworks had stopped, but he could still hear the sound of voices out by the west side of the estate.

  They made it around the house without any trouble. Kildare glanced up at the second story, trying to figure out which window was Mock’s, when one of the windows opened and a figure leaned out.

  “Quickly,” Serene hissed.

  There was no ivy on this side of the house. Kildare scanned the wall, searching for possible handholds, when voices caught his ears. He swiveled, searching for the noise. Four men walked toward the house from the back of the estate. One gestured with a burned-out firework stake in his hand, the end of the stake still glowing with embers.

  And there were other voices in the front of the house.

  He gripped Fir’s shoulder and hissed, “Guards.”

  The Alfaren went instantly still.

  Rot. If they left the shadow of the house and tried to run back to the hedge, the guards would spot them running across the moonlit lawn. The front was guarded. If they stayed where they were, the guards coming back from investigating the fireworks would see them.

  He had to move fast.

  Kildare eyed the distance, then without warning, wrapped his arms around Fir’s chest and shifted. Scales pricked his cheeks and hands. He could feel the drag of his shirt as it shifted with him—any extra material threw off his balance, but he could cope with it. More worrying…Kil could feel the tightness of the collar pressing into his neck, cutting off his air. He shoved down his panic and sprang upward, using as much wing movement as he could with his front claws clutched around Fir. The movement sent black spots swimming across his vision.

  He shoved Fir at the window. The Alfaren scrambled in.

  Kildare grabbed at the windowsill. His claw tips latched onto the wooden surface, and instantly Serene’s hands shot out, gripping his wrists.

  Kildare shifted.

  Without the lift of his wings, his body dropped like a rock. He brought his feet up just in time to keep from slamming into the brick side of the house. Serene grunted as one of his hands slipped off the windowsill. He dug his feet in against the house and levered himself up, grabbing the windowsill again and hauling himself in. Serene clutched the back of his shirt, then the waistband of his pants as he struggled into the window.

  Kildare rolled onto the floor and lay still, panting, his eyes closed.

  “Not your most graceful moment,” Serene chuckled as she closed the window.

  Kildare snorted and opened one eye to look up at her. “No, I—”

  Serene lifted a finger to her lips in a shushing motion, then nodded to the other side of the room. Kildare sat up.

  The room was about the size of the room Basalt had housed them in at the Broken Chair. They were in the bedroom area, and out the door at the front of the room, Kildare could see a small living space.

  Mock sat on a tall four-poster bed beside the fire, one leg tucked up and underneath her as she leaned over a small, curled up form tucked under the covers on the bed. The child moved restlessly, and Mock bent down, whispering something to her.

  Kildare gulped, suddenly understanding at least a little of why Mock did what she had. The child was a miniature copy of Mock, from the rough, tousled blond hair to the slim jawline. She blinked, and Mock ran her fingers over the girl’s face. Another blink, and the child’s eyes remained closed.

  Snitch and Fir stood by the bedroom doorway, glancing between Mock and the child, soft expressions on their faces.

  After a moment, Mock stood and made a shooing motion. Kildare got up, and they all crept from the room. Mock gently closed the door behind them, then walked to the fireplace that was shared between the two rooms. She lit a taper and used it to light several candles, until Kildare could see the well-kept furniture and thick rugs scattered around the living space. Whoever owned this house, they had been able to afford to fill it with durable, well-made pieces. It wasn’t a king’s palace, but it was most definitely on the level of a rich merchant. He could even see a couple of gas lanterns on the walls, with thin iron piping running up the wall to them, but guessed that they made too much light for their purposes.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Mock tossed what was left of the taper into the fire and turned, putting her back to the wall beside the fireplace. She sank down to her haunches and stared at a spot on the rug about three feet from Kildare, shoulders hunched and arms drawn around her knees.

  Kildare glanced at Serene. She perched on the back of the couch, facing Mock but not engaging with her. Serene looked over at him, her eyes glimmering pale in the dim light of the room. Snitch and Fir both stood to the side, looking awkward.

  Apparently, everyone was content to leave it to him. It was only fair, Kildare guessed. He was the one who had wanted to actually find Mock and talk to her, as opposed to the others who had just wanted to get the puzzle box and get out.

  He sat down on the thick, plush rug in front of Mock and reached out, gently putting his hand over hers where it laid on her knee. She looked up, brushed the curtain of thick hair out of her face. Tear trails glimmered down her cheeks.

  “Mock…” Kildare sighed and cocked his head to the side, unsure of how to continue.

  She took a deep breath. “So. I guess you know why I did what I did.”

  Kildare leaned back on his hands. “I want to hear it from you. What happened? And why did you give me this?” He rubbed his thumb along the charm bracelet.

  Her lips twisted, and she leaned her head back against the wall. “Back before you found me—before you rescued me from that brothel—I’d had a baby. In fact, it was about six months before you offered me a spot on your team.”

  Kildare well remembered the day he’d leaned across the bar, sliding a note under his money to the Alfaren girl who had served him a drink. He’d been looking for someone good at acting, good at distractions. He’d seen Mock break up potential fights with a well-placed sentence or two. Watched her smile and laugh until she thought she had a private moment—and then he’d seen the mask fall and her eyes darken and her lips tighten. She’d never talked about it—he’d just eventually assumed it was because she knew what her eventual fate would be, working in a brothel bar.

  But no. She’d had a daughter. But why had Mock kept her a secret?

  “It’s not what you think,” Mock said quietly. “It was by someone who loved me. Who promised he’d marry me. But shortly after I discovered I was pregnant, he was knifed in a fight. I’d been a barmaid elsewhere, but the brothel was the only place that paid enough to support both of us. I planned to keep the baby, but shortly after she was born, Oak’s men came knocking. They said that because the girl’s father had been Oak’s contracted worker, the baby was under contract as well. I fought, but I’d only given birth a few hours before and I couldn’t stop them from taking her.”

  “You told us that you’d been forced to work there,” Snitch said sharply. “That you were afraid that they’d force you to sell yourself.”

  Mock shook her head. “I did think that was a possibility, but...at that point, I was just sick and heartbroken, and I wanted away from that place. I...I thought that was the end of it.” Mock’s voice cracked. “I thought I’d lost my girl forever. But right after you told us we were coming here, Oak contacted me again. He knew Basalt had hired us, even before we did. He said that if I took what we’d been hired to steal and brought it to him, he’d give me my daughter back.” She nodded to Fir. “I was talking to one of his men in the stable the night you saw me.”

  Snitch looked around the dark room. “I don’t see freedom here yet, Mock.” His voice was gruff, as if he was fighting hard to hold back even a hint of gentleness.

  “Oak said I had to stay here. He said it was for my protection.”

  Kildare leaned forward and put his hands on hers. “Why, Mock?” he whispered.

  She sniffed. “You’d been sneaking out, and I was afraid you were done with us, and… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She hunched forward, pressing her hands to her mouth.

  “It’s all right,” Kildare told her softly. “Stars, Mock, I don’t think any of us would’ve done differently in that situation.”

  Snitch snorted. “Maybe I wouldn’t have left my teammates for the city guard, but yeah.”

  Mock glared at him. “That wasn’t me. I wanted to leave you all conscious and let you run. But Oak’s lieutenant, Whisper, he wouldn’t allow it. He forced me to leave while his team knocked you guys out and tied you up. And what I said in there…I’m sorry. I was scared. I thought I had to show Oak’s men that I was really on their side.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell us, Mock?” Serene asked. “We all would’ve helped you.”

  Mock drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t know. Oak threatened me, he told me to keep quiet. I just assumed he’d just know. And I was afraid of who Kildare was meeting in secret and what he might say. I just—I couldn’t risk losing my daughter again. I haven’t seen her since she was only a few hours old.”

  Kildare leaned back, mind spinning. He could feel his freedom—Serene’s freedom—slipping through his grasp. Who was he to ask Mock to exchange her daughter for them? She wouldn’t do it, anyway. She’d already proven that. He rubbed his thumb along the bracelet. “But you gave me this to warn me that something was off.”

  “I hoped you’d come after me,” Mock said quietly. “I hoped I’d at least get a chance to explain to you. What happened, anyway? They wouldn’t let me stay to see.”

  “Snitch got thrown into prison,” Kildare said. “Taoh snuck Fir and me off to meet with Basalt.”

  Mock’s face paled. “Oh no. I didn’t even think about… I was hoping you’d been able to make it out somehow, that you’d split from town and Basalt wouldn’t be able to find you.”

  “Seem like you left an awful lot to chance there, Mock,” Snitch growled.

  “I was panicking, all right?” She shot back. “How would you feel if you suddenly had a chance to reunite with your family, Snitch?”

  Kildare swiveled to look over his shoulder at Snitch in time to see the thief wince. Snitch’s family was all dead—a plague had swept through when he’d been a boy. He’d grown up like Kildare and Fir, on the streets.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “I see your point.”

  Mock looked back to Kildare. “What did Basalt say?”

  “He said that if I didn’t get the puzzle box back from you, he would sell us—Fir, Serene, and me—into slavery.”

  Mock bristled. “He can’t do that!”

  “He can,” Serene said shortly. “He holds my contract. As for Fir and Kil, they may not be formally registered, indentured slaves, but there are markets where that sort of thing doesn’t matter.”

  Mock shrank back from Serene’s harsh tone, biting her lower lip. She rubbed the back of her neck, the charm bracelets on her wrists jingling quietly.

  “Where’s the puzzle box, Mock?”

  She looked sideways at him. “But my daughter…”

  “You and your daughter can come with us,” Kildare said. “No one’s going to ask you to give her up again.”

  Mock shook her head. “I can’t take that chance. Oak found me once, to hold her life over my head. You don’t think he could hunt us down again if we run out on him?”

  Kildare sat back, sighing in frustration. It was no good. Mock was simply too scared for her daughter’s sake to consider letting them have the puzzle box. A cold fear spread over his chest. They would sell him and Serene. He’d never see his bond-mate or his best friend again. It was hopeless.