of copper and blades

CHAPTER NINETEEN,

CASSALYN WAS THE one chosen to put down the forged evidence, written in gibberish code that looked realistic enough, courtesy of her and Marcus. He'd always been horrible at codes anyways, so it hadn't been much of a feat for him to create whatever was now scribbled on those papers.

Darynne had given her a short lecture on where she could put the evidence. It hadn't precisely been specified, but Darynne told her that it was most definitely one of the statues of angels near the entrance. Most likely, she'd speculated, one of the guards on duty tonight would be in the Queen's Cards pockets. It wasn't a surprising thing, she'd said, and the Thief's Guild had plenty of men around the cemetery as well for their own safety.

She spotted the angel statues immediately. It was slightly eerie, the sight of the stone statues under the cover of the night, but she'd seen and been around far worse. Suppressing her nerves, Cass pulled her hood down tighter and stalked forward.

When she reached the third statue, she made a great show of looking around and being sneaky, as if worried no one would see her, which she was. After all this acting, she finally puts down the evidence in a visible spot before hurrying off.

And then she hides with Marcus and one of the guards of the Weeping Flames behind a group of half fallen walls.

It was five minutes before the bait was taken. One of the guards of the cemetery walked out from the little hut he was posted in, grabbing the bunch of paper. He went back into the hut, and a few moments later, a dark shadow shot out from the side.

"There!"

Cass and Marcus gave chase while their guard lit a lantern and placed it on top of the wall. That was a signal. Cass kept her steps quiet, not wanting to alarm anyone.

They quickly caught up with the shadow, staying a safe distance behind them. The shadow was skilled, quick, hopping over walls and other debris, not making a sound. They were running towards the south exit, where Darynne and a few of her men were posted. They wouldn't miss a commotion like this.

And they had a carriage there, if needed.

They still hadn't made out the shadow. Cass made a quick profile as they kept running: short and small in size, very likely a female. But there was no sign of long hair, so that was probably tied back. Clear skill and training, what felt far past what a soldier would have. One of the gangsters rather than the mercenaries.

There was a horse a street away from the cemetery. It didn't take much trouble for the carriage to start its chase, though they kept their speed slow to not alarm the enemy. Cass and Marcus took horses, speeding after the person. If they noticed, they didn't stop.

Gira at nighttime was not quiet. There were rowdy bars and screams and laughs and the occasional sound of bullets firing into the sky. They didn't have to try nearly as hard to hide the sound of their horses' hooves.

They sped through half the city. Sometime along the way Darynne had joined them on her own horse, somehow having caught up. Cass supposed Darynne knew a couple shortcuts, but the speed was still rather astonishing.

They kept going, speeding past alleyways and crowded bars where people didn't give a single glance in their direction.

This was one of the only things Cass had ever missed about west Gira. The fact that you could do the strangest, sketchiest things in existence, and no one would bat an eyelid. They were all used to it. They'd seen things no one else had before, and nothing could faze the west Girans. Violence was in their blood, unlawfulness a way of life. The only way of life. Most of them were born and raised on this side of the island, brought up with nothing but hatred for their eastern neighbours and the Ganans. They fed on that loathing. Swallowed it like salvation. It was how they kept themselves going.