Sunbolt (The Sunbolt Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Ghost had given me—I nearly trip over my own feet. Better suited? I’m a thief . If the man won’t rent me a carriage, I’ll just have to ‘borrow’ one for the night.  
    Kenta would howl with laughter if he knew how long it took me to figure that out.  
    With renewed purpose, I start down the street, never looking back. If Master Khalid, the proprietor, is watching me, I want him to feel confident that I’ve given up. At the next corner, I turn and walk on. I circle around by the smaller alleys to the back road that services his stable. It’s narrow and edged with refuse, dirtier than the paths between the backs of the stalls at the fish market. But then the fishmongers take pride in their market, working together to keep it clean. It’s clear neither Master Khalid nor his neighbors take ownership for the alley that serves the back of their buildings.  
    The inn stands just two buildings down from where the alley comes to an abrupt end at a wall. There’s only one way out. I’ll just have to hope no one is coming in when I need to get out.  
    There aren’t too many good niches to observe the inn from. I settle for scaling a boundary wall across the alley and hiding among the branches of a small, sickly mango tree. I pat the tree trunk in apology before picking the only edible mango in sight: a pock-marked, yellow fruit hardly larger than my palm. Despite its appearance, it smells delectable. I use my knife to carve off slices to eat, licking the juice that dribbles down my fingers as I ostensibly observe the inn.
    The length of the stables doubles as the boundary wall of the alley. A derelict metal gate, hinges hanging loose, has been left propped against the wall, leaving the entrance to the yard wide open. I tilt my head, but from my vantage point I can’t spot where the carriage waits. I’d guess it’s inside the yard, probably parked alongside the small stable.  
    I watch the kitchen door and windows as I finish my mango, gauging the movement within. They haven’t yet lit a lamp, so I can’t tell from here if anyone’s looking out. It must be close to dinnertime, which means the kitchens will be busy. It’s not a good time to try to sneak past them. The plan, then, is to sneak as little as possible.  
    Climbing down from my perch, I cross the alley and peek around the corner of the stables. The doors must face the inn yard; not unexpected but certainly not what I would have liked. A glance skyward tells me that I don’t have time to waste on wishful thinking.  
    Gathering my confidence, I stroll into the yard, following the wall of the stable and turning at the corner. The carriage waits in the yard just before the stable, directly opposite the kitchen. It appears to be nothing more than a box with a door mounted atop a set of wheels. Who would want to rent that? I’m beginning to think Master Khalid is quite the penny-pinching, close-minded lizard-brain.  
    Breathing a prayer, I saunter up to the stable doors and let myself in, leaving the door cracked behind me. I pause in the semi-darkness, listening for sounds of alarm, but none come. If anyone noticed me, they must have thought I belonged.  
    On my left, a horse whuffles. I blink a few times, letting my eyes grow accustomed to the dark. The interior smells overwhelmingly of manure and damp. The humidity has gotten into the walls, and apparently Master Khalid hasn’t taken it upon himself to care. I let my breath out slowly, unclenching my hands. Not my concern. I just need to select a couple horses, harness them, and get out.  
    The Ghost has no idea how fortunate he is that I’ve worked odd jobs for four years now. For a short time, dressed in boys’ clothes, I’d gotten work at a rich man’s house helping in the stables. That lasted until they realized I was a girl, but it was long enough for me to learn everything I needed to know about harnessing a horse to a carriage. And even a little about how to recognize carriage horses.