The rains did not come.
Elandor had hoped for it would. The noise of rain on the rooftops of the houses drowned out every other sound. And she needed silence if she and her gang were going to pull off this heist.
"Damn the sky and its empty threats," Elandor cursed.
She was on the roof of the tallest building in all of Tahok, crouching like a garygole. It was Lord Chase's mansion. From her perch she could see the entire estate.
Lord Chase was not a man who hid his wealth. His estate was the grandest in all of Tahok, perched on a hill with sweeping views of the city. The estate gleaming, gilded taunt to those beneath him. His walls were lined with tapestries and rare silks; his hallways were decorated with intricate carvings and imported art pieces. Every window sparkled with glass imported from far-off lands, polished to a shine. Each of these luxuries whispered of money amassed through deals that left others poorer and Chase richer.
It made him the perfect target: someone Elandor could rob without any guilt.
Lord Chase's greatest error was that he did not believe anyone could touch him. He lived behind his wealth like it was an iron shield. But tonight, Elandor and her crew were going to show him just how wrong he was.
The plan had taken weeks of preparation. Every guard, every trap, every flicker of light had been mapped and marked. But the key—ah, the key—that had been the thorn In her side. The west wing, where the Chase family vault was hidden behind layers of security, was locked at all times, and the key hung heavy on Lord Chase's belt, a silent boast of his control over his empire. To rob Lord Chase of anything, you had to rob him of his pride first. And that, to Elandor, was a sweeter reward than gold.
Her fingers drifted to the knife at her side as she waited. The house's interior hummed with the murmur of voices. Laughter spilling out from the grand hall where Lord Chase entertained his guests tonight. Down there, among the oblivious guests, were her two companions—William and Lucy. William was small and wiry. He had a child's face despite his age, but there was nothing innocent about him. He was the finest pickpocket Elandor had ever seen—a man who could swipe a merchant's pouch with ease. Lucy, she had met at one of Tahok's many brothels. Lucy was never suited to the place. She was too loud, too raucous.
Elandor thought back to the small, cramped room at the inn where they'd planned this heist, each of them gathered around the table, eyes intent on the map laid out before them.
"William," she had said, her finger tracing a line down to the west wing. "You're the one to snag the key off Lord Chase. I don't care how clever you think you are, no showing off. Just get it quietly."
William had nodded with a grin, hands twitching with anticipation. "Consider it done," he'd replied, cockily.
"And Lucy," Elandor had continued, casting a glance at the broad-hipped woman who stood beside them. Lucy had a face and figure that could stop traffic on the busiest market day and she knew it. Hers was the kind of beauty Lord Chase couldn't resist, much to the horror of his lady wife, a woman whose charms had long since faded in her husband's eyes. "Your job's the hardest," Elandor had told her. "Lord Chase has to take one look at you and forget he even owns a key. Keep him occupied."
Lucy's lips had curved into a smile of pure mischief. "I think I can handle that."
"And remember," Elandor had said, tapping a spot on the west wing of the map, "when you've got the key, William, find your way to this window. Give a low whistle. Nothing too loud. I'll be ready."
Now, on the roof, Elandor watched the windows below for any sign of her crew. The wind howled around her, biting and cold, but she barely felt it. She was waiting for the sound of that whistle.
It was not long before she heard the whistle. Low and long. Elandor grinned, adrenaline surging. Tonight, she thought to herself, Lord Chase's wealth wasn't his anymore. It was theirs.
Elandor slipped through the unlocked window with practice ease and landed gently on her feet. But her triumph was short-lived. There, standing like a brick wall in front of her, was a guard. He had one thick arm wrapped around William, squeezing him against his breastplate.
"Ten hells," she cursed silently. The plan had already started to go wrong.
Elandor's gaze darted between William and the burly guard. William was pale; he struggled to breathe. Her heart began to pound in her chest, but she forced calm into her body.
"This is your accomplice?" he asked her pointedly, offering her a dark grin that showed off his one silver teeth. "This? I would pick sturdier men if I was going to try and rob the richest man in Tahok."
"My mistake," Elandor drawled, cocking her head. "Now, do you mind easing your grip off my friend there? I don't think he can breathe."
The guard let out a low chuckle. "Your friend here's done for," he said, glancing down at William with a sneer. "And if you're smart, you'll drop those knives of yours and slide them this way. We don't want any trouble, do we?"
"Oh, I love trouble." She took a step forward, her fingers slide to the knives at her sides and lingered. "Especially the sort that comes with men who think they're invincible."
The guard's sneer twisted into a scowl. "Last warning. Step into the light and drop the knives, or I squash this rat."
William whimpered as the guard's grip tightened, his face now ghostly pale. Elandor's heart pounded, but she kept her expression casual. Her hand drifted to her hood as though considering his command. "Fine, fine. I'll step into the light. Wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea."
She moved forward, still in the shadows, stalling for every second she could, her gaze trained on the guard's arm pinning William.
"Keep moving," he snapped, jerking William closer. Elandor could see the vein in the guard's neck pulsing, the impatient twitch of his fingers.
"All right, all right." She stopped just on the edge of the torchlight and reached up, fingers grazing her hood, her eyes narrowing as she fixed on her target. "Hope you're paying attention."
With a flick of her wrist, she reached for her knives, drew them and let them fly.
One blade struck true, slicing into his thick arm, and the other plunged into his shoulder. The guard let out a strangled yell as his grip loosened on William, who stumbled free, clutching his side.
Elandor was on the guard before he could recover and raise an alarm. She clamped her hand over his mouth and drove her knee into his chest, sending him staggering back. He tried to yell, but she twisted, bringing her fist down hard on his temple. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped forward. Elandor caught his body before he hit the floor with a thud and eased him down gently.
"Didn't anyone tell you," she muttered to the unconscious body, retrieving her knives with a swift tug. "You really shouldn't underestimate a woman who knows her way around a knife."
She turned to William, who was breathing hard. His entire body trembled as he tried to straighten himself.
"You all right?" she asked, looking him over.
"Fine," he mumbled. But his hand shook as he passed the key over to her.
She squeezed his shoulder, then gave him a grin. "Next time, try not to get caught. And leave the small talk to me, yeah?"
Without waiting for a response, Elandor slipped silently into the corridor. The thrill of the heist burned in her veins.
The hallways were a maze, torch-lit and winding. She moved fast, every sense honed as she listened for the shuffle of armor and the murmur of guards on the other side of the walls. Twice, she had to duck into an alcove as footsteps neared, her heart pounding. Elandor pressed herself into the shadows until they passed. She'd almost reached the west wing when a pair of guards appeared in the next corridor.
Elandor held her breath, slipping into the shadows and pressing herself against the wall, close enough to see the shine of their armor as they walked past, oblivious to her presence.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she reached the vault. The iron door loomed before her. It was made of solid steel and looked impenetrable, but she only grinned. The weight of the key in her hand was a reassurance. She slid the key into the lock and turned it. There was a heavy metal click and at the sound, a thrill ran through her body. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and it gave.
Elandor slipped into the darkness beyond. Inside, the vault was lined with chests and crates. Gold coins spilled from a half-open chest, their gleam catching even the dim light from the torches she'd lit. Jewels sparkled in deep reds and blues, and there, resting on the top of a silk-lined case, was the real prize—the string of pearls they'd come for. It was called "the mother of pearls" and it was rumored to hold magic.
Elandor lifted the pearls and examined them. The beads had a soft, pearly glow and an almost otherworldly elegance clung to them. She was not sure about it being magic, but at least it had enough allure to fetch a hefty price from the right buyer.
This was it, she thought. All those plans, all those risks. They were all worth it. But there was no time to bask in triumph. A muffled shout echoed somewhere in the hall, and her blood ran cold. The guard she'd taken out must have been found. Quickly, Elandor tucked the pearls into her pouch. She stuffed a few handfuls of gold from a nearby casket into the pouch before securing it tightly, then exited the vault and closed the metal door softly behind her.
Next came the tricky part: getting out.
Elandor moved fast, slipping back through the maze of corridors. The sound of footsteps approaching her position grew louder, the distant clink of armor and murmured voices signaling more guards on high alert. Keeping her breath steady, Elandor edged around a corner. After a short while, she peered out from her hiding spot. Two guards stood in her path, scanning the hall with wary eyes. She weighed her options. She could take them out quickly, or wait until they moved along, if they moved along.
Every second counted now, with William and Lucy waiting on the signal to get out. Elandor glanced at the ceiling. A formed in her mind as she eyed the low-hanging beams. With a practiced leap, she hoisted herself up and gripped the beam. She climbed the beam and steadied herself above the guards. They were muttering to each other, one complaining about the late night shifts, the other cursing the drizzle that had soaked them through on patrol. She thanked her stars when they finally shuffled along, none the wiser to her presence overhead. Once they were clear, she dropped down and kept moving, silent and swift, until she reached the corridor leading back to where William and Lucy were supposed to be waiting. She spotted them crouched near the exit, William's face was still a sickly shade of grey. Lucy grinned, relieved to see her.
"Got it?" Lucy whispered, her eyes bright with excitement.
"Got it," Elandor replied, patting her pouch with a grin. "And a bit more, just for good measure."
Lucy let out a soft laugh, then motioned to the open window. "We'd best leave now. Guards are swarming this place. You must have raised hell back there."
"Oh, you have no idea," Elandor smirked. "They'll be talking about this for weeks."
With one last glance over her shoulder, she led them out into the night, slipping away from Lord Chase's mansion and into the winding alleys of Tahok. The city was quiet now. The rain had begun falling in a light drizzle, and she tilted her face to the sky, savoring the feeling.
They'd done it.