Page 3 of Gone with the Rake

Lydia let out a breath and continued her way down the corridor.

She paused again as a dark shape peeked out from around the corner. A man. A large, stocky man who looked left and right before stepping back into his hiding place. This must be the guard of the private offices.

Now she needed to bypass the guard without being noticed.

Her fingers found the coin she’d brought for precisely this moment. She crimped it between her fingers then crouched low. With an expert flick of her wrist, she sent it sailing across the floor away from her position. The coin traced a perfect arc through the air before landing with a loud ping then spinning in circles.

The guard rushed out of the corner and quickly stalked toward the coin, his hand on the sheath of the knife. Lydia seized that moment to slip into the nook the guard had vacated.

Her gamble had paid off as there was indeed a door hidden inside the nook, and it was unlocked. Lydia slipped inside and shut the door behind her as quietly as she could while loud voices joined the guard’s confusing ramblings.

Lydia’s palms perspired inside her gloves and her heart beat furiously against her chest as she stared into another dark corridor.

Lydia blinked a couple of times, silently waiting for her eyes to adjust to complete darkness.

Spreading her arms wide, she ran her fingers along the walls, trying to decipher which door led to the offices of the owner of the hell. As her finger caught on the elaborate door knocker, Lydia paused and squinted at the door before her. The knocker felt like—she ran a finger along the edges—a three-headed beast with his sharp teeth bared.

If this wasn’t Hades’ office, she didn’t know what was.

Lydia pressed her ear against the door, listening to the silence within. She tried the handle and was not surprised to find it locked.

Taking out her lock-picking tool from the satchel tied around her waist, she made quick work of the easy lock.

With a smile, Lydia jumped to her feet and entered the room, closing the door behind her.

Unlike the pitch-black corridor, the room was awash with a warm light glowing from the tiny hearth. Lydia stepped farther inside the room.

It wasn’t what she’d expected from the owner of a hell called Hades. She’d imagined a throne or chains along the wall, something extravagant. Instead, the office was small, cozy, and quite ordinary.

A small desk stood in front of the hearth. Two windows were covered by thick curtains, not letting in even a speck of moonlight.

Right across from the desk, a bookshelf filled the entire wall. In the corner was a dark chest. The same chest that was supposed to contain exactly what Lydia was looking for.

Lydia approached the chest and carefully studied it. It was surrounded by chains and sealed by a steel lock at the center—just as she’d been told. There was a reason she was recruited for this job and not anybody else.

Lydia was the only thief in town who could pick any lock. She fiddled with her satchel and took out the implements to help her unlock the chest. There was a soft sound behind her, and Lydia turned quickly. Fire cracked in the hearth, the flames dancing, and licking the walls, but there was no one in the room.

Lydia spotted the candle on the cluttered desk and contemplated lighting it for one short moment but then shrugged the idea off. It wouldn’t do to attract attention to herself by creating a shifting light behind the door or alerting someone with the scent of a freshly lit candle. No, she would unlock the chest and get what she came for all in the dark.

Frustration mounted in her chest as she couldn’t get the lock to open. It was either very old or not working properly. Sweat started running down her forehead and temples, so Lydia took off her hat and wiped the loose strand of hair away from her face.

She leaned closer to the lock and poked at it from different angles, trying to work out the system by which it was locked. She needed to press left, right, and down at the same time and then turn the middle part. Easy.

Taking a three-edged tool from her satchel, she pressed it against the lock, turning it slightly this way and that. The mechanism gave way, and with a soft click, the lock was opened.

Lydia was bursting with excitement. She’d done it. And it wasn’t all that difficult either. A proud smile curved her lips as she carefully lifted out stacks of papers, laying them on the floor with trembling fingers. There, at the bottom, just as described, lay a soft, yellowed map.

With a little dance of victory, Lydia pulled out the map, folded it, and thrust it inside her boot. She returned the papers back into their place and locked the chest.

All done!

She stood and dusted her hands before tiptoeing toward the exit.

She placed her ear to the door but heard nothing except for the crackling of the fire in the hearth. The corridor was completely quiet.

She cracked open the door and… was greeted by the barrel of a pistol aimed at her face.

Lydia’s hands rose to the air of their own volition. Her mouth opened but her voice failed her and her mind froze.