Now I Rise (And I Darken Series, #2)(12)

Patrols tromped through the streets with aggravating consistency. Finally making it close to the governor’s house did not simplify things, though. Three guards were stationed at the door, while others ringed the perimeter. Lada had counted on breaking in through a first-floor window, but that was not possible.

Matei waited in silence, but she could feel the question pulsing off him. What now?

Lada raised her eyes to the night sky to curse the stars, but the lines of the roofs caught her attention. The houses were built close together, elbowing each other for space. Sometimes the alleys between them were so narrow one had to turn sideways to make it through.

She did not need to break into the governor’s house. She just needed to break into one of his less-protected neighbors’ homes.

“How do you feel about churches?” she whispered.

Matei frowned at her in the dark.

“Did you notice how, in the countryside, all the churches are fortified? They provide shelter for everyone during an attack. But here in the heart of the city, the church is beautiful and cold. They do not let any of the Wallachians in to worship. I think we should warm up the church.” She held out her container of oil. Understanding lit Matei’s face as he took it from her.

He disappeared into the darkness. Though Lada had more men now, she always trusted her first few above all others. Matei would do the job. Nicolae and Bogdan might have balked at setting fire to a holy building, but how could something be holy if it was denied to Wallachians?

She slid from her shadowed nook and raced through an exposed alley. Four houses from the governor’s was a three-story home with large windowsills, perfect for flower boxes in the spring.

Lada stepped onto a windowsill and pulled herself up to the second story, then the third. The roof had an awkward angle and jutted out too far for her to catch hold. Above her, tantalizingly out of reach, was a small attic window that would give her easy jumping access to the next roof.

The window in front of her was not sealed shut. One corner was lifted enough to slide a knife in. Lada worked it open, each tiny creak or protest of the wood making her certain she would be discovered. When it was wide enough, she pushed herself in feetfirst.

A girl sat in bed, staring directly at Lada. She could not be older than ten, her hair pinned beneath a cap, her nightshirt white.

“If you scream,” Lada said, “I will murder your whole family in their sleep.”

The girl was solemn—and silent—in her terror.

“Show me how to get into the attic.”

The girl climbed out of bed, shivering, her small feet soundless on the wood floor. She eased open the bedroom door, looking both ways before gesturing for Lada to follow. At the end of the hallway was another door. Lada braced herself to face a foe, but the room was empty save for a jumble of old furniture and a ladder.

The girl pointed up.

Lada put one hand on the ladder, then paused. She turned back to the girl, who watched her in the same wide-eyed silence she had maintained since Lada first entered her bedroom.

Lada reached into her boot and pulled the small knife free. She turned it hilt out and bent down. “Next time someone comes into your room in the middle of the night, you should be prepared. Here.”

The girl took the knife, staring at it like it was a puzzle. Then she gripped the hilt and nodded.

“Good. I am leaving now. Go back to sleep.” Lada climbed up the ladder and eased open the trapdoor to the attic. The attic window, though, would not open. Cursing her luck, Lada grabbed a chair with a broken leg and smashed the window. She hoped Matei’s work had begun in earnest, distracting anyone who might raise an alarm.

After pushing the jagged remnants of glass free, Lada climbed out and crouched on the sill. Beneath her the night waited, dizzying and dark. She jumped.

The roof slammed up to meet her faster than she had anticipated, and she nearly rolled off before she caught herself. Then she ran. Up and over the peak, gaining momentum before launching herself across the void yearning to claim her. Another roof. This one was angled the opposite way, and the roof after that was several feet higher. Lada ran along the peak, put on a burst of speed, and jumped.

Her hands found the edge of the next roof. Her legs dangled, her weight threatening to drag her down. Swinging from side to side, she hooked a knee onto the roof and pulled herself up.

One more.

This time she crept carefully across the tiles. Though the air was icy, her body itched with sweat. The governor’s roof was higher than the one she was on, but it was not her goal. She prowled along the edge between the houses until she found what she was looking for—a window with a small ledge beneath it. She had planned on breaking in, but luck was finally on her side.

The casement window was flung wide, and a balding head leaned out, looking down toward the city center and the shouts echoing from that direction. There was a faint glow, and the distant sound of shattering glass.

For the eternal space between one breath and the next, Lada paused. He looked old and soft and vulnerable in his baggy nightshirt. He was a husband. A father. Then he cleared his throat with that same phlegmy rattle he had made while promising to help her and already planning to betray her.

Lada jumped the distance, slamming into the governor. They rolled together into the room. Lada recovered immediately and knelt on his chest, her knife to his throat.

“Who wanted me dead?”

He trembled, eyes crossing when they tried to focus on the knife.