Chapters (122)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Map
- Prologue
- Part I - A Thief’s Ransom
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Part II - An Unquiet Crown
- Interlude
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Chapter Forty-Seven
- Chapter Forty-Eight
- Chapter Forty-Nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Part III - The Crew
- Interlude
- Chapter Fifty-One
- Chapter Fifty-Two
- Chapter Fifty-Three
- Chapter Fifty-Four
- Chapter Fifty-Five
- Chapter Fifty-Six
- Chapter Fifty-Seven
- Chapter Fifty-Eight
- Chapter Fifty-Nine
- Chapter Sixty
- Chapter Sixty-One
- Chapter Sixty-Two
- Chapter Sixty-Three
- Chapter Sixty-Four
- Chapter Sixty-Five
- Chapter Sixty-Six
- Chapter Sixty-Seven
- Chapter Sixty-Eight
- Chapter Sixty-Nine
- Chapter Seventy
- Part IV - The Job
- Interlude
- Chapter Seventy-One
- Chapter Seventy-Two
- Chapter Seventy-Three
- Chapter Seventy-Four
- Chapter Seventy-Five
- Chapter Seventy-Six
- Chapter Seventy-Seven
- Chapter Seventy-Eight
- Chapter Seventy-Nine
- Chapter Eighty
- Chapter Eighty-One
- Chapter Eighty-Two
- Chapter Eighty-Three
- Chapter Eighty-Four
- Chapter Eighty-Five
- Chapter Eighty-Six
- Chapter Eighty-Seven
- Chapter Eighty-Eight
- Chapter Eighty-Nine
- Chapter Ninety
- Chapter Ninety-One
- Chapter Ninety-Two
- Chapter Ninety-Three
- Chapter Ninety-Four
- Chapter Ninety-Five
- Chapter Ninety-Six
- Chapter Ninety-Seven
- Chapter Ninety-Eight
- Chapter Ninety-Nine
- Chapter One Hundred
- Acknowledgments
- Excerpts from A Thief in the Night and Honor Among Thieves
- A Thief in the Night - Prologue
- A Thief in the Night - Chapter One
- Honor Among Thieves - Prologue
- Honor Among Thieves - Chapter One
- About the Author
- Books by David Chandler
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
- Cover
“I am taking an enormous risk by trusting you. I have no way of knowing you will not repeat to Hazoth everything I say. Yet I have no choice but to ask your help. I seek to get the crown back. Once it is in my hands, Anselm Vry will have no choice but to arrest Hazoth, and likely execute him. Your mother will be freed, and you with her. Croy will be so beloved by the Burgrave that his banishment will be lifted, and with it the noose that belongs around his neck.”
“And you, Malden? What will you gain? Can I afford your services?”
“I get my heart’s desire,” he said. He lowered his eyes. “But you need not pay that price. Meet with us tonight if you can. I have a room in the Stink.” He described the street where he lived and how to reach it from Parkwall.
“Very well,” she said. “At midnight, Hazoth will retire to his bedchamber and be occupied there until dawn. I’ll come then.”
“My thanks,” Malden said. He watched her head back into the square, never once looking back. “Croy—we have to go now. There is no more time.”
The knight didn’t move. “Her arm?” he asked, his voice very small.
“Come! Or be damned,” Malden hissed. “I only needed you to make contact with her. Get yourself killed now, if that’s how you’ll find your glory. But if you would aid me—if you would aid Cythera further—come. Now.”
Eventually, Croy followed where Malden led.
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-One
Malden spent the day drawing crude maps of the villa, showing all of its entrances and exits that he knew of, and the location of each room he and Kemper had seen. He studied them over and over with a feverish intensity. Endlessly he made corrections to them as he remembered something, as some detail that had previously seemed trivial suddenly offered new possibilities—or new hazards. His hands grew black with charcoal as he drew the maps again and again, then tore them up and made new drafts.