Page 72 of The Hood and his Thief

Nate’s eyebrows rose in admiration, a feat rarely achieved by anybody when it came to knife handling. “You certainly know your way around a blade.”

“That’s settled then,” Contessa said, with finality in her tone. “I’ll have plenty of protection.”

Rhosyn clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Let’s go catch a king killer.”

Chapter fifteen

Steam drifted through the early morning air in thick blankets, turning all the busy figures in the train-yard into hazy silhouettes. Rhosyn lifted another crate, this one labeled “Fire Whips”, onto the Archer’s Circus train.

Her hair was hidden under a woolen cap to conceal the color, but the hazy dawn made it seem unnecessary, even the garish green and yellow on the train cars appearing dull and muted. Her eyes darted down several cars to where Ansel stood, directing traffic as the circus loaded up their supplies for a supposed tour. The confident clip of his voice and sureness in his gestures as he pointed to where things should go painted him as in his element, but Rhosyn could just make out the outlines of weapons through his sleeves. She had even watched him shove a small pistol into the waistband of his pants before they left the safehouse this morning.

They had to be prepared for anything.

Two figures emerged from the mist and approached Rhosyn. The shorter of the two peeked up from under a hat, revealing Contessa’s determined face. The taller silhouette paused just behind her, and Rhosyn couldn’t help staring at the king’s face for just a moment.

Dressed in a worn, striped shirt and gray trousers, a cap pulled low over mussed hair, it was hard to believe he wasn’t just another lower city worker. Still, Rhosyn’s throat stuck with nerves as she went to speak.

“Grab that crate and take it to Ansel over there. He’ll tell you where to put it.” If the King took offense to being ordered around, he didn’t show it, doing as Rhosyn ordered. Apparently, Contessa had prepared him for the situation well, and he understood how important it was for him to get on the train undetected.

The pair disappeared into the mist, and the circus performers made quick work of loading the remaining crates and barrels in an organized dance, speaking of how used to being on the road they were. Before the sun had risen a few more degrees, Ansel was at her elbow, jerking his head to tell her it was time to get moving.

As he stepped up into the rearmost car and offered a hand to help her in after him, she opened her mouth to admit she had never been on a train before. Instead, she snapped her mouth shut as he helped her into the passenger car. This was too important a moment to admit to her inexperience.

Still, he saw her hesitation and interlaced their fingers, even when she was inside, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle on her skin.

“Nate will catch Mr. Gower,” he assured, voice soft enough to not be heard over the hustle and bustle of all the performers finding a place to wait out the journey. “Mr. Gower already accepted an invitation to go to the palace today to discuss his sponsorships and to bring his Talented servants with him. Once he has his entire Talented army at the palace, he won’t be able to resist taking another crack at the king…or the decoy who will be stationed in his study at least.”

Rhosyn nodded, but a lump still rose in her throat. “So many things could go wrong.”

“And he’s got the best possible team for thinking on his feet.” Ansel’s arm dragged up to her shoulder, warm against her skin that had been chilled by the morning air. “From what I heard of your friend Scarlett, I wouldn’t bet against her in any situation. She’ll be keeping a close eye on the situation from the shadows, especially given that her husband volunteered to be the decoy.”

Ansel pulled Rhosyn further into the train car, toward the cabin Contessa and the king had disappeared into. “By this time tomorrow, it will all be over, and you’ll be free to live your life.”

Rhosyn tugged his arm, stopping them in the hallway, now sparsely populated as people had hurried to find their place on the train. Slowly, the steam engine rumbled to life, and they started to trundle down the tracks. The train whistle blew, and Rhosyn paused what she was going to say until she could be heard, the locomotive picking up speed beneath her.

“What is the life I’ll be going back to?” Rhosyn asked.

“Well, you don’t have to go back to the exact same life you had, if you don’t want to.” Ansel hesitated. “You have some…new opportunities now. Archer’s Circus is always looking for more security and I—I would like to have you around.”

Rhosyn swallowed. It was such a momentously huge decision—to leave behind the life she had built to follow this thief, who had plucked her heart out of her chest as easily as she picked purses from pockets. But maybe it didn’t have to be. Maybe, for once she could make a decision based on her heart, instead of just volunteering herself to solve the biggest problem she could find.

She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the words to say this to Ansel. Before she could speak, an echoing thud ran through the train car. Rhosyn threw her hand out to catch herself on the wall as it rocked side to side, nearly throwing her off balance. Ansel frowned as the lamps hanging from the ceiling swayed in response.

Contessa’s head poked out of the compartment she had disappeared into with the King. “Did we hit something?”

“It sounded more like something hit us,” Ansel said.

Rhosyn moved to ask what would hit a train, but he held up his hand to silence her, looking up at the ceiling. They all froze, when over the rattle of iron on rails came the tromping of footsteps on the roof.

Rhosyn’s heart leapt into her throat. Contessa’s eyes widened.

“Stay in there, and bar the door,” Ansel ordered Contessa.

Then, he marched off down the hallway. Rhosyn wasted no time in hurrying after him, towards the door between cars. When he reached it, he slid it open and stepped onto the narrow metal platform between the two bobbing compartments. Rhosyn tried not to look down as she joined him, but the blur of rails flying by, just inches below her feet, made bile rise in her throat. She had enough fear about being thrown from a carriage, it hardly bore thinking about what would happen if she fell from a train.

With little hesitation, Ansel turned to the short ladder leading to the top of the car and began to climb. As his fingers reached the top rung, Rhosyn looked up and gulped. She might not have the advantage of his Talent for balance, or years of experience on a trapeze, but she would not let him face whatever was up there alone.

She scrambled up the ladder, knuckles white as she gripped each rung with all her might, following Ansel as quickly as possible. When she crested the edge to crouch on the swaying roof of the train, any fear of the climb was overshadowed by the sight that greeted her.