Eos pushes intricate silver braids behind her ears. Resolute, she lifts her chin and marches up the grandiose staircase. “You can have it back once we’ve excavated our treasure. Now, get inside before we’re tossed into prison.”
Prison.
I shudder.
No way is anyone locking me up tonight. My hands curl into my palms, turquoise nails slicing half-moons into my lightly golden skin. The pain grounds me. It reminds me of what I left, what I’m still running from. No. I’m not going back there ever again.
I hurry up the stairs, gently smacking Eos on the shoulder. “Don’t boss the adults around.”
“I’mseventeen.”
“You’re a child,” I tell her. “But it’s okay. We love you regardless.”
Eos grumbles under her breath, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. At four foot eleven, with cherubic cheeks and a frame as slender as a skeleton, Eos is constantly mistaken for an actual child. Pretty helpful when she needs to purloin a meal or two for her and her sister, though she would never admit it. Not only do people pay less attention to children, but they’re also less likely to turn one in if they’re caught thieving. Of course, Eos doesn’t get caught. Neither do Vesper or Stavros.
Neither do I.
Huffing, I throw myself inside the temple with seconds to spare. The abacus shields us from the weather, but there are no walls to hide within. Instead, the four of us press up against separate marble pillars for sixty full seconds before peering out.
Sure enough, four guards stand watch with their backs to us. In another eighteen minutes, they’ll begin their rotation again, splitting up and marching for the south side. We’ll have to climb down into the antechamber fast if we’re going to rob this place and escape before they notice we were ever here.
“Statue,” Stavros whispers, his voice as light as the summer breeze. He twirls his mustache six times for good luck. “In three, two…”
One, I think.
We race for the massive statue in the middle of the temple on quiet feet. No socks. No shoes. Silence is as much a necessity for these jobs as gunpowder and daggers. Though Vesper believes me to be an amateur, I’ve managed to steal enough to keep away from the sea for over half a year. No one treats this more seriously than I do. Because if I’m caught…
If I’m caught, it won’t necessarily mean a swift hanging in the city proper.
If I’m caught,hewill come for me. And all the progress I’ve made, all the freedom I’ve stolen, will be for nothing.
Vesper reaches the target first, and she yanks Eos after her. The two crouch behind a set of chiseled charcoal wings. I join them by pressing up against a rather impressive oblique. My hand slips with sweat, and I find myself accidentally fondling the stone ass cheeks of Mortia’s most revered god.
Mortem.
The God of Death; the first and worst traitor to mer-kind.
I consider snatching my dagger from Eos’s belt to slam the blade up his emphasized ass crack, but Vesper grips my wrist with a surprisingly strong grasp. “No, Zephyra,” she hisses, so low, I almost don’t hear it. “I know that look. Don’t do anything reckless.”
Reckless.
The word crashes overhead like a dangerous current, threatening to pull me under. I blink hastily, however, erasing the bitter memory before it can drown me. Not here. Not now. Not when a trove of gold awaits.
If I can just make it through tonight—if we canallmake it through tonight—there won’t be any reason to worry about trauma and pain again. We’ll have enough coin to go our separate ways, to fund mildly lavish lifestyles in whichever cities or kingdoms we prefer. I’ll move to the mountains, as far from the sea as I can manage, and buya small cottage with a real bed. Real pillows, and maybe even a stove. No more rooting through the garbage for scraps or sleeping on the hard limestone of dark, dirty alleys. I’ll buy a home, and I won’t have to run anymore. Won’t have to hide or pretend. I’ll be safe.
Free.
Goddess.It’s so close now, I can almost taste it. Like sweet, ripened berries plucked from a garden no one else can enter. Wiping my hands on my linen trousers, I refocus on the present moment. On the temple and my three associates staring at me with their hands outstretched.
Fuck.What did I miss?
“Um… hello,” I say blandly.
Vesper glares at the ceiling. “Thekey, Zephyra.”
Oh. Right. I force a cheery grin, and Eos instantly groans at the sight. “See, the thing is… I couldn’t actually get it.”
“Youwhat?” Stavros asks. His biceps strangle his precious satchels, and a bit of gunpowder spills from the openings. “Where is the key?”
