The Royal Thief

Chapter Nine: the Match House

I would have felt too conspicuous riding into the city on Saffron, and besides her white coat and silky golden mane marked her as a palace horse, and that was probably not the first thing I wanted anyone to notice about me. So I saddled Pitch instead, telling myself Nemia wouldn't mind, though I had a suspicion she would.

When I trotted back to our training yard the rising moon was just starting to give off light. High above me, the constellation of the Thief wheeled overhead, and Jaden sat astride a dun mare in the shadows.

"Is she yours?" I asked curiously.

He seemed amused. "No." Kicking her into a cantor, he lead us down the hills of the castle grounds.

It was a ten minute ride to the edge of the city, where lesser nobles kept townhouses, and then another ten minutes through the well-kept neighborhoods of wealthy merchants. Jaden clearly knew the streets well, taking us through allies and short cuts deeper into the city. We left behind the Golden Quarter and rode through a market place, streets lined with shops, taverns where a few people still lingered over drinks. The streets grew dirtier, the gutters were clogged with filth, and tipsy-looking tenements leaned in over our heads, blocking the moonlight.

I'd always loved my city. Yes, I called it my city. If Princess Magali would one day rule in her palace, and if Nemia was destined to become the greatest of the spiders web of secret criminals, then the city was mine.

Jaden dismounted before a large inn with a sturdy wooden door that hung open, revealing that firelight still flickered within. A peek inside showed a huge fireplace, soot-streaked walls, and grimy tables, crowded with people despite the late hour.

"We're not going inside tonight. But we will leave the horses in the stable." I followed him around the back to a courtyard with missing cobbles. A ramshackle stable was guarded by a sleepy boy of about maybe twelve years who took the reins of the horses and Jaden's coin without question. Then Jaden lead me back to the street, and I noticed then the creaky sign that hung above the door. There was a fading black stallion, painted as though rearing, and words scorched into the wood: The Black Horse. Below that was a carving of a single feather, which didn't seem to belong. It was also much newer than the inn's name or the peeling paint. I made a mental note to ask Jaden about it then hurried to catch up to him. 

"Morane, this place I'm taking you to-- it's not always safe. I'm not sure I should even be showing you, especially with how reckless you can be. So I need you to promise me that you will always be careful, keep a look out for anything that seems off, use your common sense-"

"Don't talk to strangers, yeah, yeah, yeah."

"I don't care if you talk to strangers. Just don't let them take you into a dark ally and knife you."

There was a pause before I ventured to ask, "But that wouldn't actually happen, would it?"

"As I was saying, use your common sense, always carry a weapon, don't bring too much money, and don't break the rules."

"What rules?"

"The rules that you will learn by watching and listening."

"So, unofficial rules?"

"They're official enough if you break them." He turned a corner sharply and we were suddenly on a street even darker and grimier than the last. There were a few run-down tenements, one which had completely collapsed, and one larger building shoved between them. It was the only one which had lights on inside, leaking through chinks in the stone walls. Its windows were boarded up. Jaden rapped the door loudly and a moment later it opened.