Thief's Covenant (A Widdershins Adventure) Read Online Free PDF

to see so lovely a creature depart from their midst.
    One was not.
    All the houses of Davillon boasted their own guards. Even if most never saw the slightest action, it was simply Not Done to go without. Some were veritable armies unto themselves, while others consisted of anyone who could stand up straight and look competent while making parade-ground turns in formalwear or old-fashioned armor.
    Doumerge's guards were largely of the latter category, which meant that the baron's hiring requirements were rather more lax than those of the City Guard. And that meant that, though his ruined hand had cost him his commission in said Guard, Henri Roubet had never lacked for a position.
    This wasn't the first party at which the crippled solider had spotted the Lady Valois, though she had never spotted him in turn; it was part of his job, after all, to remain inconspicuous and out of the guests' way. But tonight was the first time he'd gotten a good enough look at her to be certain that she was who he thought she was.
    Madeline Valois was, indeed, Adrienne Satti. It was a bit of news for which his employer—his real employer, not the weaselly fool of a baron—would pay well.

     
    To those who dwelt outside the law, within the slums and poor districts, and among the population of the so-called Finders' Guild, she was neither Madeleine nor Adrienne. She was Widdershins, a simple street-thief like a thousand others. Tonight, Madeleine had done her part admirably; now it was Widdershins's turn to take over.
    Two blocks south of Doumerge Estates, sandwiched between a large bakery and a winery, lay a narrow alleyway that was nigh invisible in the late hours. Filled with refuse from both establishments, emptied once a week by underpaid city workers, it was ignored by those few who noticed it at all.
    At the moment, however, it boasted an abnormally large human population: that is, one. Madeleine edged her way down the alley, away from the boulevard. Knees bent, back pressed tightly against the winery, feet pushing against the opposite bricks, she passed above the reeking filth. Her gown lay in her lap, clasped tightly in her left arm; she wore, now, a bodysuit of supple black fabrics and leathers that had lain hidden beneath the forest-green velvet. At the end of the alleyway, she reached out, straining to grasp the pack she'd stashed earlier that evening. Though her entire weight shifted and she feared she'd dislodged herself from her precarious perch, her fingers brushed against the satchel. She quickly grabbed it and yanked it up.
    Still without setting foot on the cobblestones, her nose wrinkled against the stench of refuse, she stuffed the gown roughly into the bag and removed a second, smaller bundle. This prize, carefully unwrapped, revealed deerskin gauntlets, hood, thin shoes of black leather, and a belt whose pouches and pockets contained, among other things, a candle stub, a one-handed tinderbox, a tiny hammer and chisel, and the finest set of skeleton keys and wire picks available in any market, black or otherwise. Finally, her tool of last resort: a rapier, blade blackened with carbon and ink, the basket-hilt removed so that the weapon could hang flat against her back.
    The dark-colored sack in which her tools had been wrapped, she folded tightly and jammed through her belt. The larger pack—stuffed with the gown, jewelry, and everything else that identified Madeleine Valois—would remain ensconced at the end of the alley.
    A few quick breaths to steady herself, and she reached over her head to grab the overhang. She tightened her fists and pulled her legs away from the far wall, lifting them smoothly up, her weight supported only by her hold on the roof. Her stomach muscles, though toned through years of practice, still screamed in agony as first her feet, then her knees, cleared the roof over her head and curled over. A final heave, arms straining, and she lay on her stomach at the edge of the winery's roof.
    For a few