“Here it is,” Ida said, nodding to a house towering over its neighbors.

  “It’s four stories tall. You want to rob a damn tower?”

  Vidar glanced to Siv, who would not meet his eyes. She looked down at her feet, squirming.

  “You sure this is a good idea, Ida?”

  “I’m tired of being hungry and cold,” Ida said, her usually warm demeanor absent from her face. The way she hunched her shoulders now as she looked up at the building made Vidar think of a cornered animal. Good thing she hadn’t brought her bow or she was liable to shoot someone.

  “I’ll be coming into a bunch of silver soon, if all goes to plan,” Vidar said. “Let’s not do this. Just wait a little longer and we won’t have to risk having our hands separated from our arms.”

  A look of uncertainty flashed over her, but then Ida set her jaw. “Thank you, but no. We can’t rely on the generosity of others. You do not have to come, but I’m going through with this.” She turned and shot him a grin. “Besides, what kind of guild leader is afraid of a little burglary?”

  He looked from one sister to the other. Ida folded her arms and took a wide, confident stance. It was a front to hide her nervousness. Even he could tell that much. Siv looked at him pleadingly. She didn’t want this to happen either, but from the look on her face, she knew her sister would go through with it alone if he didn’t join her, and Siv realized that might not end well for her.

  “I’ll come,” Vidar grumbled. “How do we get in?”

  She looked around them to make sure they were alone. More people than usual were out despite the darkness blanketing the city and, for once, it wasn’t snowing. That meant plenty of onlookers, so Ida gave a slight nod to the rooftop of the house right next to the stone tower.

  “We can reach the second-story windows from up there.”

  “You want to climb up to the roofs? One slip and we’re dead!” Vidar said, a little too forcefully.

  Siv put a finger in front of her lips, urging him to quiet down.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “But it’s true. We can’t climb that.”

  “I’ve done it a bunch of times. You just have to be careful of where you put your feet.”

  “You’ve broken into other houses?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  She shook her head. “No, but I’ve been on the roofs. There’s always a way up.”

  “And a quick way down,” he added.

  “You scared of heights?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows while grinning.

  Ida headed into a narrow gap between buildings and waved for them to follow. Once on the other side, her plan was obvious. Several wooden crates were stacked on top of each other by the back of a nearby building. Together, the crates were tall enough for them to scramble up onto the slanting roof. Getting past that point took quite a bit of effort in the slick snow. Thankfully, the roof was free of ice and the top was flat and wide enough for Vidar to crawl up and keep himself from falling down. Despite his best efforts, he got a glimpse of the street below. His vision spun to the point Ida had to hold him still while Vidar shut his eyes tight for a moment.

  All three crawled forward on their bellies. On the off chance someone looked up, they would still be relatively hard to spot in the dark as long as they kept their profile low and near the top of the roof.

  They crossed over to another roof easily enough, but when they got to the edge of the second house, there was a gap over to the third and final building before reaching the stone tower and their target, a dark and uninviting window.

  “It’s not that far,” Ida whispered. “We jump the gap.”

  Vidar couldn’t believe his ears. “I must’ve misheard you. You didn’t say jump, did you?”

  “Look,” she said, pointing to the other roof before moving her level palm from left to right. “The next one is flat. You won’t slide down to the side, no matter what. It’s almost narrow enough to step over. Anyone could make this jump.”

  “Let’s see you try it,” Vidar grumbled.

  Ida jumped, the end of her knitted scarf fluttering in the air. She didn’t even take a running start. Siv followed without hesitation, leaving Vidar alone on the second rooftop. Their landings on the snow-covered roof barely made a sound. People were talking down at street level, but it was in a conversational tone, nothing alarming. They hadn’t been spotted.

  Vidar crawled to the edge of the building and peered down. The gap was similar in width to the narrow path Ida led him down when escaping from the guards, except a little wider. The length of the gap wasn’t the main problem. It was how the other building was slightly taller, meaning he’d have to jump forward and up at the same time. He swallowed hard, then crawled back, trying to ignore the thawing snow dampening his coat and the cold seeping in.

  Ida waved for him to hurry up.

  There was an element of timing to this whole endeavor, he knew. If they stalled too long, the residents and their staff would show up. That would spell their doom. Pushing down his fear of falling, Vidar crawled back and then got to his hands and knees before finally gathering enough courage to let go with his hands and awkwardly stand, bent over at his waist.

  Vidar awkwardly shuffled to the edge and leapt off, pushing away with all his might. It was too much. His foot lost its hold of the roof and slid backwards. Rather than clear the jump, he fell forward and down. At the last moment, he grabbed on to the edge of the third roof while his feet remained on the second, leaving him hanging over the gap.

  “Help,” he squeaked, holding on for dear life. Going back was impossible, so he pushed with one foot while reaching forward with the other. Ida and Siv were there in an instant, pulling on his coat while he scrabbled to get the rest of himself over.

  All three fell on their backs on the third roof, panting hard.

  “I almost died,” Vidar said, his whole body trembling.

  “What in dragon dung’s name was that?” Ida asked, her face appearing right over his. “That was the most embarrassing leap I’ve ever seen in my life. If you can even call that sideways shuffle a leap. You’re like a cripple!”

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  “I never said anything about being athletic,” he hissed back, heat rising in his face.

  Siv pushed them apart and put her finger to her lips again.

  Ida harrumphed but pulled back to crawl toward the window. Vidar followed and soon saw something that’d make their entrance impossible.

  He pointed. “Bars.”

  “I know,” Ida said. “That won’t stop me.”

  She brought out a long, thin bit of metal and slipped it between the edge of the window and the wood surrounding the glass and the frame. After jiggling it a little, she pulled up and toward herself. Vidar didn’t notice anything different, but Ida then opened the window and got down on her back to scoot closer. Two horizontal metal bars were set in a heavy frame, but they were spaced far enough apart that her arms fit between them. Ida squirmed and cursed for a few minutes, then something inside audibly clicked. When she withdrew her hands, she was holding a thick padlock with some tiny bits of metal sticking out where the key should go. That mad girl had picked the lock while being upside down in the snow. She hadn’t even been able to see it.

  Vidar accepted the padlock and Ida withdrew the lockpicks, then nodded for him to hand it over to Siv, who placed it down on the roof while Ida pushed into the room.

  He followed. The inside was surprisingly cold. Far warmer than the outside, but still quite chilly.

  “Why are there no heat runes active?” Vidar asked, his small voice bouncing off the bare stone walls.

  Ida was standing by the door, pressing her ear against it. She turned and gestured for him to keep quiet. He joined her by the door and, together, they listened.

  “I can’t hear anything,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “Me neither. They’re all gone.”

  They looked back at Siv outside the window as Ida opened the door. It led out into a corridor. At the far end, to the left, were stairs leading both up and down. The door to the empty room they’d entered was unadorned and simple, like the sort you’d see leading to a storage room and the like. With how empty it was, these people apparently had very little need for storage. Other doors were more interesting. One was painted green, another blue. Several were prettied with hanging cloths nailed to them or animal patterns carved into the wood and painted a deeper color. The paint was chipped and worn, but obvious care had gone into personalizing each.

  “Children?” Vidar asked.

  “Haven’t seen any children, but they are old. Perhaps children used to live here.”

  “Where do we go?”

  Ida shrugged. “I’m no expert. Look into the rooms.”

  The chill lingered in the air even here, and lanterns hung along the far wall, providing just enough light to see by. No runes.

  “I don’t think these people are all that wealthy,” Vidar muttered to himself. Ida was already gone, having entered one of the rooms. He tried a door at random and found himself in a darkened chamber where a sizable bed dominated the space. A small desk stood by a window overlooking the street below. Rifling through the papers on top of the desk, Vidar only found correspondence. He briefly considered reading a letter but found that invasion of privacy far more tasteless than even breaking into their home. Besides, it’d take him forever to get through that small handwriting. Instead, he tried the drawers. The only thing of interest he found was a letter opener. It sort of looked like a knife, so he pocketed it. Alvarn wouldn’t accept the weapon, but he might feel more comfortable with this. Vidar doubted the scribe student would be thrown out of the guild for a little threatening.

  He glanced to the side and saw what they’d come for by the side of the bed.

  “Ida?” he asked.

  When she didn’t come, he repeated himself a little louder. “Ida?”

  “What?” she asked, turning up at the door. “All I’m finding is old, musty clothes!”

  Vidar pointed to a strongbox squeezed in between the bed and the wall.

  She swallowed hard when she spotted it and hurried forth to sit on her knees right in front of the thick-looking metal door.

  “Can you open it?”

  She withdrew her lockpicks again, looking at one small bit of metal after another before finding one to her satisfaction. “Of course. It might take a while. Keep looking while I work on this thing.”

  Vidar exited the room and went through the other doors on the floor, not really finding anything valuable. He didn’t really know what to look for, either. If there were coins to be had, they’d be in the strongbox. Frustrated grunts drifted through the still, silent air of the floor as Vidar made his way to the stairs. He listened intently but still heard nothing. They were truly alone in this huge tower. More lanterns flickered along the wall to the steps going down. The third floor was fully dark, so he headed down.

  The floor opened up into a big entrance hall by the front door, and beyond that, Vidar spotted a sitting room. Walking through those spacious halls made him jumpy. While the lanterns did give some light, it was far from enough, and many of the furniture and knickknacks cast vaguely human-shaped shadows.

  Uncomfortable was not a strong enough word to describe how he felt lurking around on the ground floor, and he still couldn’t find anything worth stealing. A set of expensive-looking wine glasses would fetch quite a bit if sold to the right person, he was sure, but getting a bunch of glass out that small window and away over the rooftops without breaking them was an impossible task.

  On his quest through the floor, he found his way to a kitchen. Here, he found plenty worth stealing. The cabinets were brimming with food, and a hatch in the floor opened up to a small compartment for storing dried fish and meat. Vidar stuffed his mouth and his pockets, then found a small cloth sack that he filled to bursting before fastening it to his belt with bits of string meant to keep the sack closed. He also found a whole meat pie, fresh enough that it must be what they were having for supper. When he was done, half of it rested in his belly.

  He panted from having eaten too much too quickly as he continued deeper into the house. The servants’ quarters were at the far end. He ignored those and entered what appeared to be a work room or a small library. Shelves brimming with books of all shapes and sizes lined every wall. A small and rickety-looking desk stood in the center of the room, a reddish-brown, circular carpet under it.

  Books could certainly be valuable, but he didn’t have time to check each volume. The desk did not hold any books or written letters or notes. What it did hold were a few pens, a set of thin paintbrushes, and a small bag with bottles of ink and colors for the brushes.

  “Perfect,” he mumbled, removing a small loaf of bread to fit this new treasure into his pocket. This was just what he needed to start selling runes once he got the hang of crafting them.

  A sound reached his ears and Vidar froze, his heart pounding. Another sound. Someone talking, but muted. He hurried to the front hall and his eyes widened when he peered out a small side window. People. They were obviously on their way into the house. One man was fiddling with a ring filled with different keys, trying to find the right one.

  Vidar rushed up the stairs, careful not to make too much sound.

  “Ida! They’re coming!” he hissed, the sound coming out strangled.

  She looked up from the still-closed strongbox, her eyes wide with fright. No, Vidar thought, not fright. Excitement. Ida’s eyes glittered and the mad girl grinned as she pulled away the lockpicks. To Vidar’s surprise, she opened the box.

  He walked up, intending to grab her arm and pull her back. “We have to leave.”

  “Empty,” she said, her voice flat.

  “What?”

  She showed the empty strongbox, muttering, “Not a single coin.”

  They both ran to the empty room where they entered and closed the door behind them. From the sounds coming from downstairs, the family had made it into the hall but had yet to notice the intrusion.

  Ida opened the window. “Did you find anything?”

  “Just food,” he said, holding up the sack. “And some paint and brushes.”

  “Some burglars we are,” she said, letting out a nervous giggle as she climbed out onto the other roof.

  Vidar pushed the sack out first, to Siv’s waiting hands, then followed. Going back outside, the cold seized his muscles and the tip of his fingers immediately started feeling like someone was pricking them with a needle.

  Ida closed the window behind him and all three began the arduous journey back down to the street. With proper ground beneath their feet, they ran. At first, they kept silent, but then they laughed, whooped, and cheered. Vidar’s first break-in did not bring much in the way of valuable loot, but they didn’t leave empty-handed.

  That night, everyone in the small shacks got a second dinner before turning in for the night. Vidar would have loved to keep some for himself, but he didn’t have anywhere to store belongings, and their hungry gazes got to him when he brought his part of the bounty. He’d have to find a place to keep his things, and he’d have to find it soon, or Embla’s thug would just shake him upside down until every coin fell out of Vidar’s pockets.

  With their bellies full, the boys in Vidar’s shack soon snored contentedly. His own eyelids were heavy, but he could not allow himself to sleep. Not yet. First, he needed to trigger the light rune.