Kyra grinned. “Our landlord was also curious about the coin it’d fetch. He had the Palace herbalist price them, and I nipped that list too. Looks like he has a good stash of Far Ranger goods—the strange ones that the wallhuggers can’t get enough of. The dryad-raised flowers by themselves are worth a good quarter of all that was taken.”

She stood back, arms folded, not bothering to hide how pleased she was with herself.

“You’re enjoying this. Taking things back from the fatpurses,” said James.

Kyra gave a quick nod, which James acknowledged with a slight smile.

“I suspected you would,” said James. “You’ve got the skill, and you’ve got the drive. You could go far if you wanted. It doesn’t take long to rise in the Guild. I was fifteen when I joined.”

James had never spoken about his past before, and Kyra wondered how old he was. His face had no trace of boyish roundness, and his skin was smooth except for a slight crease at the corners of his eyes. He was older than she was, and probably older than Flick. But he was still in his prime. His quickness testified to that, the taut readiness obvious even as he sat at his desk. She thought back to their fight, remembering his intense gaze and fluid movements. How had he risen to power at such a young age? What did he have to do?

“Why did you join?” she asked him.

“Same reasons as most others. I wasn’t an orphan, but I might as well have been. Outside, you’re limited by your lineage, your family. In the Guild, if you do things right, you’ll go far. Use what you have to your advantage—your abilities, your speed. Some look down on you because they think a lass is too fragile to do what it takes. But even they won’t be able to deny your skill.”

“Do you look down on me because I’m a lass?” she asked.

“No.” He studied her a moment, his blue eyes pensive. “Not at all.” The last phrase was soft, as if he were talking to himself.

Silence hung for a moment. And then James gestured toward the parchment. “Let me look at these, and we can plan the raid in a few days.”

Rand was in the hallway as she left James’s study. He leaned against the wall, thumbs hooked in his belt.

“Thought he’d given up on women after Thalia,” Rand said.

Kyra only half heard him. “Hmmm?”

Rand snorted and rounded the doorway into the storeroom.

“Wait, Rand, what’d you say?”

He let her follow him across the room before he finally turned around. “Curious, aren’t we?”

She scowled. “I didn’t hear you. Who’s Thalia?”