The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

over the past few years. Sometimes it was simply a matter of picking the one she liked best out of half a dozen choices.

Loretta knew the Labine household well, as she did all of her best repeat customers. Her last visit had moved the resident Builder squarely onto the top of Loretta's target list. Mr. Labine, a clothier to many of the wealthiest families in Waldron's Gate, had finally trusted her enough to let her see their entire stomach-turning collection. Far too many of the items were unfamiliar to her. Even Loretta didn't want to speculate about how many of them may have been genuine.

What caught Loretta's attention was the private chamber's location right across the hall from the master bedroom, where she now knew the lady of the house slept every night. Mrs. Labine happened to be a high-ranking and well-respected Builder. She'd even confirmed Loretta's decision by helping her husband with the detailed description of the next curio they were seeking. The woman's strange wishes and desires would further Loretta's own ambitions. She'd sunk the green pin into her map that very night.

With one last glance at the street names surrounding her target, more to calm her nerves than to set it in her mind, Loretta closed the fake wall and reset the security devices. She turned to make one last check over her tools and supplies. She was already wearing her most critical disguise, a solid black leather garment that fit her tightly as any glove, as scandalous in that tight fit as in being formed into pants instead of a skirt.

The hide was nearly as soft as Loretta's own skin, so it wouldn't creak as she moved. The skinsuit was well reinforced with bone and steel where it counted. Her long, curly black hair was tightly braided and pulled into a low bun. She opened the matching black bag she would carry across her back even though she knew everything was inside.

The most important thing, her Dragon, was safe in a fitted case, with her gyro-compass tucked inside. Another small case held her headgear, matte black like everything else. A map she never needed and a large flask filled with cold water were the only other items.

Her clothing held pockets for all the weapons she could comfortably carry, though she'd never needed any on her Building nights: knives, a garrote, hypodermics, and a leaded club.

Her specially made tripod, expandable to taller than she herself stood, designed to be silent and nearly invisible with the wood and brass painted black, was folded into a cane.

Nerves worked off and appetite worked up, Loretta was ready.

Her most trusted guard was the only one allowed on duty on Build nights. Bess knew better than to ask too many questions. Her loyalty was unquestioned, and so was her participation. She was already hidden away in the secret compartment on the porch when Loretta locked her front door, held up one hand in silent thanks to the guard, and stepped out into the darkness.

Loretta walked slowly, confident she would be alone, but alert to anyone else out and about. Her eager mind switched from remembering which turns to make to running down the list of the night's Builds.

Loretta hadn't attempted the full nine her table could accommodate for a few months now. Losing a reliable Builder to insanity and Joffrey Columns had been more of an inconvenience than she would have imagined.

Her inner unrest drove her to take the risk, and to risk her new Builder's mind.

Her breathing was quick by the time she reached the house, the dark green of the roof, shutters, and scroll work looking as black as her clothing in the dim gaslight. Neither exertion nor anxiety quickened her lungs, but anticipation had. Keeping herself calm for the first Build after a long time away from it was always a pleasurable challenge.

She walked around the grand three-story house in a slow circle, watchful for any movement or lights within or without. Seeing, and sensing, nothing, Loretta stopped just below the bedroom window.

She slipped a brass catch free, and the three legs of the tripod separated. Loretta pushed them solidly into the ground before she raised the pivot to what she was certain from long practice would be the right height. With everything locked into place, she shrugged out of the pack and set it carefully on the ground. The Dragon was first, fitted against the tripod. She'd wondered why it had two bell ends unlike the massive Blunderbuss, but not enough to ask her wild Tinker grandmother.

Her version was infinitely more pleasing to look upon, with symmetry and balance to match the sleek black. She snapped the gyro-compass onto the middle like a sighting scope on a rifle. One bell end swung slowly toward the giant magnet of her house. This gross adjustment Loretta allowed without intervention. Mental fine tuning to the spaces on her goal—an intricate metal table hidden in her basement—would come soon enough.

As one end of the Dragon found her house, the other targeted the window above her. The Builder's strange power drew the Dragon as surely as her house did. When the motion stopped, she pulled out her headgear. The thin straps of soft leather fit her skull perfectly. Nearly invisible wires through and around the straps caught the faint moonlight.

From tales she'd heard of how the Blunderbuss worked, this was essentially one of their cradles made small enough to wear. Her grandmother had never said such a thing, but her words were often strange and unreliable. As long as her devices worked, Loretta had little concern over why.

With the black cable fitted into the Dragon, Loretta lifted the cap to her head. She breathed deeply, calming her racing mind and heart. Satisfaction, much needed and long overdue, would only come if she could focus. By the time Loretta felt the pull of the Dragon, her heart beat slowly.

Small puffs of white smoke rose from both ends of the device,