Page 92 of To No End

Varro’s voice rang out. “What are the rules of engagement?”

Saryn smiled slyly. The same look he always gave when he was thinking something truly devious.

“There are none. Get in and get out with the box. Go undetected if possible, and don’t get caught. If you happen to make that filthy thief disappear for good, you wouldn’t be hurting my feelings.”

We all knew this moment would come, when all the training suddenly coalesced with reality. Hearing Saryn speak so flippantly about a stranger’s life, as if it were nothing more than collateral damage, was still shocking. Trace didn’t seem fazed.

Hands tucked nonchalantly in his pockets; Trace began his questioning. “What intel do we have?”

Theory rolled out a scroll across the table, covered in faded drawings.

“We managed to get ahold of some of the original designs of the household from the bricklayers who built the place. There’s no guarantee that they are up-to-date, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

My eyes scanned the illustrations, noting how massive the structure was. It was practically a palace, but these weren’t Royals or Honored Fae.

“What else?” Trace probed.

“We have reason to believe he is hiding the stolen goods near or around the bedroom of his youngest siblings; so young they are still tended to by a nanny.”

Nori gasped at the thought of children being put in harm’s way.

“There will be many guests at the ball, plenty of dancing, plenty of wine, and—knowing these people—plenty of debauchery, but you’re not to be distracted from the task at hand. There will be a chime when the celestial event begins, and most guests will make their way out to the terrace. This is when you should plan to make your move. If you’re quick about it, you should be gone before the guests even return. The details of how you accomplish this we leave up to you.”

My mind was already spinning, playing out every scenario, thinking of the roles we’d each need to play. I was a planner, a list maker with a propensity for overthinking, but now I was focused on how we didn’t end up dead, or worse. And I knew what “worse” was. I’d practiced that art many nights with the Vesper.

Just when I thought Theory and Saryn had offered all they were going to give us, they added, “Tomorrow, a tailor from the king will be arriving. You’ll each be fitted for the ball with custom attire of your own design or request. That same tailor will be measuring you for custom weaponry. You’ll make a list ofwhat each of you want, and it will be crafted to your exact sizing and delivered shortly thereafter.”

“And who should we expect to pay for all of this?” Cairis questioned.

Saryn smirked. “The Order has direct access to the king’s purse. Whatever we desire, whatever we require, shall be ours.” He winked.

Before walking off to leave us to our scheming, he said, “The event is in two weeks. Get your plan together. I suggest someone teaches Cairis to waltz, otherwise he’ll be a dead giveaway.”

That night none of us visited the Vespers or the healing pools. We pored over the designs of the estate, planning our movements. Two weeks might have seemed like plenty of time, but not to us. I’m glad everyone was just as ready as I was.

Most of us were focused, but Cairis would not shut up about all the fancy weaponry he was going to order. I rolled my eyes at his obnoxious tangents, but it was amusing how much he was hyping up Nori about the prospect of getting an entire arsenal sized just right for her petite stature. He’d whip around her, pretending to jab at her with tiny little Nori-sized daggers.

Trace, Varro, and I were heads down in a debate about the best approach. Gia sipped at her mulled cider and instructed us to “just tell her what to do.”

Late into the evening, we had devised the following concept. Gia would serve as the bait for the host’s son. Fully shifted in disguise, she would lure him to a spot far from his siblings’ bedroom, seducing him into distraction, while many of the guests made their way onto the balcony.

Nori would glamour the children into thinking she was their nanny. With a brief glance at the real nanny, she could pull it off, especially because young children were significantly lessperceptive about the illusion than adults. Her job was to get them away from their room, freeing up Trace to find the goods while Varro used Siren Song to lull the real nanny into a slumber.

Cairis would be standing guard at the end of the hallway, ready to alert us if anything was going awry and be the first line of defense if things derailed into chaos. My job was to intercept anything and anyone that kept the plan from happening.

While it seemed like I didn’t have a real role, they assured me that having me on alert and ready to improvise was going to be pivotal if the need arose. Whether that meant obstructing and distracting a guard, sending a warning signal, or coming to Cairis’ aid if things got really messy. The possibilities of my position were endless.

Varro said I was the one that acted on instinct. I had proven I could adapt, and that he was certain I’d spend every day until the mission playing out every possible scenario.

I didn’t know whether or not to take that as a compliment, but since no one disagreed with the plan, the first night was a small victory.

The next day the tailor showed up as expected, and we each held private appointments with him to get measured and discuss our outfits. The ball was going to consist of extremely wealthy attendees. Each of us knew that our attire needed to be just ostentatious enough to blend in.

Nori read aloud from a book that attempted to explain the celestial event they were celebrating, which was referred to as the “Canary Veil.” Every twenty years, the night sky would be blanketed in yellow, with the stars twinkling in the background. Unlike a solar eclipse where day briefly turned to night, the sky would remain bright, even when it was supposed to be darkout. The book described a God who was punished for his vanity and had his vision permanently altered. He was only able to see shades of yellow henceforth. On this one night, all others would see the world through his eyes.

It is said that those who stand under the Canary Veil would be granted extra youth from the eerie light of the sky. Why a bunch of Fae needed more youth was beyond me. We already lived an extremely long lifetime, assuming we did not fall ill or get struck down.

It’s no surprise I’d never heard of it. Apparently, I’d lived too far south my entire life to witness it. It was more of a regional celebration.

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