It was always the children who were the biggest threats.

Itdidn’tmatterwhethertheywereorcs,dwarves,gnomesorhumans,Chancehadlongagolearnedthattheonlythingthathadtheabilitytosneakuponhimwasachild.

Therewasonestandingrightnowinthehallway–ahumanone–perhapssixorsevenyearsold,dressedinalong,whitebedgownandwithherstraw-blondhair,freshlybrushed,drapedoverbothshoulders.Shelookedup,unblinkingly,atChance,withlarge,darkeyes.

Staringwasconsideredbysomehyrrinxtobeanactofaggression.Chancehadneverhadtimeforthat,thoughhedidfeelaninstinctiveresponse,burieddeep,tothelittlegirl’sobservation.Itmadehim stare back.

“Kitty,”thelittlegirlsaid,slowlyandseriously.

“Perhaps,”Chancerepliedsoftly,tryingnottofeeloffendedatthecomparison.Herealizedhistailwasswayingbackandforth,anddidhisbesttoquelltheanxiousmovement.

“Kitty…wantsthejar?”thegirlwenton,aconfusednoteenteringhervoice.

Chancehadfrozeninthehallwaythemomentsawthegirlstaringathim.Thatmeanthewasstillclutchingtheornate,goldenLorimorvase,whichhe’djuststartedtoraisedelicatelyfromitsplinth.

“Kittywantsthejar,”heconfirmed,hisearstwitching.Thegirlfrownedandpointed.

“Kittyshouldnotsteal!Stealingisbad!”

Chancebaredhisfangs,theflashoffrustrationinvisiblebehindtheleathermaskthatcoveredhismuzzle.

“Whatif…kittyonlywantedtoborrowit,”hesuggested,tryingtocomeupwithawaytomakethe girl go back to bed.

CHANCEROBBIE MACNIVEN

“Wouldhavetoaskpapa,”thegirlsaid,stoicallyfoldingherarms.“Helikesthetwojarsverymuch.”

“I’msurehedoes,”Chancesaid.Thetwoantiqueshadbeenvalued–byanexperiencedcollector,whilebeingthreatenedbyseveraloftheOutlawPrince’senforcers–atasumofoverfivehundredcrowns.Betweenthem,theywerethemostexpensiveitemsownedbyLucasBrezer,partofafortuneacquiredbyanillicittradenetworkthatranfromLorimorinthesouth-westtoThelgriminthenorth-east.

TheOutlawPrincehaddemandedthatthevasesberevalued,inperson.ThatwaswhyChanceandTalihadbeendispatchedtotheBrezermanseinthedeadofnight.Theywereantiquehunting.

Chanceslowlybegantolowerthevasebackontoitsplinth.Thelittlegirl,presumablyBrezer’sdaughter,noddedsternlyashedidso.

“Goodkitty,”shesaid.

Chancewasabouttosuggestthatwasn’tespeciallythecase,whenheheardascream,ringingthroughthemansefromsomewherefurtherupstairs.

It was Tali.

Inandout,niceandfast.ThatwaswhatTalihadsaid.They’dgoneovertheplanadozentimesbeforetonight,evenrehearsedpartsofitintheabandonedwarehousedownbytheRivengatepartoftheOutlawPrince’sholdings.Tali,ashort,scrappyhumanwho’dbeenraisedamongstthePrince’sarmyofthieves,hadworkedwithChancebeforeonanumberofheists,thoughnonethisbig.ShewasolderthanChance,moreexperienced,afactthatthePrincehadhighlightedwhenhe’dgiventhemtheassignment.

“Fortunaalwaysblessesmewithgoodluck,”hehadsaid.“AndIinturnpassafractionofthatluckontoyou,Chance.Youwillneedit.Yoursuccesseshavebeentoo…precariousoflate.Taliwillkeepyouright.Defertoherasyouwouldtome.”

“Youknowhetalksdowntoyouonpurpose?”Talihadtoldhimlater,asthetwoofthemhadpouredovermapsoftheBrezermanseinthewarehouse’sshadows.

“Whodoes?”Chancehadasked,surprisedbythesuddenchangeoftact.

“TheOutlawPrince,”Talisaid,hervoicemoreearnestthanhewasusedto.“Icouldn’tpulloffhalfthestuntsI’veseenyoudosinceyoujoinedus.ForgetFortuna,you’rethebestthiefI’veeverseen.”

Chance’searshadflickedwithamusement.

“Don’ttakemeforafool,”hehadwarned.“ForallIknow,thePrincemighthavetoldyoutotellmethat,asatest.”

Talihadraisedherhands.“He’sawareofalotlessthanyoumightthink,Chance.He’snotall-powerful.”

Chancehadofferedasmallshrug,ahumanaffectationhe’dpickedupoffTali.

“WithouthimI’dhavenothing,”he’dsaid.

“That’swhathetellsyou,isn’tit?”

“Sometimes,”hehadallowed,notwantingtodwellonit.“Canwejustgetonwiththeplan?”

“Theplanissimple,”Talihadsaidwithasmile.“Inandout,niceandfast.”

“Thief’shonor?”Chancehadasked.ItwasoneoftheOutlawPrince’smanymottos,anoxymoronsupposedtopromote‘good’practiceamonghisunderlings–aneffectivethiefwouldalwaysprioritizethetargetoveranythingelse.

“Ifitcomesdowntoit,”Talihadsaid.“Thief’shonor.”

Tali’sscreamalmostmadeChancedropthevase.Heplaceditbackonitspedestal,glancingquicklyatthesmallgirl.Sheremainedrootedtothespot,thoughtherewasfearinherwideeyesnow.

“Stayhere,”Chancesaid.“Andprotectthevase.”

Hedartedforthestairs,onallfours,agray-furredblurasheboundeduptheminjusttwoleaps.Atthetopwasalanding,sumptuouslydecoratedliketherestofthemanse,indarkironbarkpanelinganddecorativeIsheimsheep’swoolrugs.Hissenseofhearing,razor-sharp,hadpickedupnotonlyTali’scry,butthesoundsofastruggleandthecrashofsomethingheavyfalling.Shewasbeingattacked.

Thelandingledtoanothercorridorwhichtookhimright.Hismindranthroughtheplanofthebuildingashewent,memorizedbeforethey’dsetout.Hetookadoortotheleft,andemergedontowalkwaythatranaroundtheupperwallsofthelibraryatthemanse’sheart.

HesawTalibelowonthelibrary’sgroundfloor,strugglingwithaguardinaleatherdoubletovertheremainsofafallensetofbookshelves.Anotherofthehiredmusclehadbeenpinnedbythecollapse,whileathirdwasracingacrosstheroom,aheavycudgelraised.

Chancehadhisthorntipknivesoutinaninstant,oneofthesmallthrowingdaggershelddeftlybetweeneachfinger.Ashedidso,hiseyeswerecaughtbyagleamtotheright,causinghimtohesitate.

HerealizedwhatTalihadbeentryingtodo–scalethebookshelvestoreachtheupperlevelwithoutnegotiatingthestairs.Onthewalkwayhe’demergedontosatanotherplinthwiththesecondofthetwinvases,shiningbrightinthelightofthechandeliersuspendedoverhead.

HelookedbackdownatTali.Shehadspottedhim,practicallynexttothevase.Theysharedanunspokensecondofrealization.

Thief’s honor. The target comes first.

Chancebaredhisfangs,andthrewthefirstofhisknives.Thelittlesteelbarbflewstraightandtrue,thumpingintothecalfofthecharging,cudgel-wieldingmanasheclosedonTali.Hewentdownwithayelpofpain.TheonegrapplingwithTalilookedupwithsurprise,spottingChanceabovehimjustbeforethesecondknifestruckhisshoulder,actuallyslicingpastTali’sarmbeforefindingitstarget.

Shethrewhimoffasheyelledinpain,shoutingatthesametime.

“Chance,watchout!”

He’dalreadysensedtheimpendingattack.Afourthguardhadsteppedoutontothewalkwaybehindhim,hisscarredfaceflushedwithrageashebroughtuphisclub.Chanceduckedandrolled,hearingasplittingcrashastheheavyweaponsplinteredthewoodenrailingthathadbeeninfrontofhimamomentbefore.

Hisrollboughthimintocontactwiththeplinthholdingthevase.Itwasbarelyabrush,butitcausedenoughofawobblefortheantiquetostarttippingovertheedge.Chancereachedoutwithoutthinking,catchingitneatlyinthesamepawhisshadowclawgauntletwasstrappedto.

Hestaredatit,realizingwhathe’djustdone,beforearoarbehindhimcausedhimtodartpasttheplinthwithtailraised.Anotherblowcrackeditandsentittopplingastheirateguardsurgedafterhim.

“Comeback,youmangylittlescavenger,”theguardbellowed.

Chancedidn’tgetfar.Adooropenedinfrontofhim,causinghimtocomeupshortasyetanothermemberofBrezer’sentourage,hairtousledfromasleepdisturbed,steppedouttointercepthim.

Helookedfromthenewarrival,backattheonepursuinghim,realizinghewascornered.

“I’mnotascavenger,”hetoldthemanraisinghisclubtostrike.“I’mathief.”

Chancethrewthevase.

Bothmencriedoutinhorror,staringatthegoldenantiqueasitseemedtoarc,inslowmotion,uptowardthelibrary’shighrafters.

Chancehissedandlashedout,hismovementsablur.Hisshadowclawsrakedacrossthefirstman’sthighs,bringinghimdownlikealeadensack,beforethelastofhisthorntipknivespinnedthesleeveoftheclub-wieldingguardtothewall.Thehyrrinxstraightenedasbothmenbellowed,thefirstclutchinghiswoundwhilethesecondstruggledtofreehisarm.Hestretchedouthispaws,andcaughtthevasewithdeftprecisionasitfellbackdowntohim.

Talihadpoppedhersmokebombs,choking,ashen-graycloudsbillowingthroughthelowerpartofthelibrary.SheemergedfromthembeneaththewalkwaywhereChancewas,wavingupathim.

“Dropit!”

Heheldthevaseoverthesideandletgo,followingitover.TalicaughttheantiquewithagruntjustasChancelandedbesideher,onallfours.

“Window,”hesaid,pointingwithoneclawthroughthesmokeatapossibleescaperoute.Talinodded.

Togethertheyrushedit,headsdown,smashingthroughitwithacrashofshatteringglass.ChancerolledthroughtheshrubberybeyondandwasupagainintimetosteadyTali,graspingthevasejustbeforeittumbledfromhergrip.

TheymadeitthroughtheWestportgateandintoanalleywayalongthebackoftheDuckandHarpinnbeforepausingtocatchtheirbreath.

“Somuchforthief’shonor,huh?”Talipanted,managingagrin.

“Hey,Igotthetarget,”Chancesaid,holdingupthevase.

“Mytarget,”shecorrected.“Where’syours?”

“Ithadaparticularlyfearsomeguardwatchingoverit,”Chancesaid,tuggingdownhismasktogiveTaliafangedgrinofhisown.Sherolledhereyes,clearlynotbelievinghim.

“Youcould’vejustleftme,”shesaid.“TheOutlawPrincewon’tbepleased.”

Chancegrimaced.“Ijusthopehewon’tfindout,”hesaid,theconcerninhisvoiceclear.Talilaughedandpattedhisshoulder,tryingtoencouragehim.

“Youknow,Chance,sometimesyoucanbeaterriblethief,”shesaid.“ButI’mgladyou’resuchagoodfriend.”