The next few weeks passed in a blur of meetings and preparations. Forge and Simon stayed in the village, renting a temporary room for themselves over the blacksmith’s shop, though most nights they were at Edgin’s cottage, poring over the drawings of the wizard’s manor house and grounds that Simon had requested from Alyanna.
They were meticulous drawings, incredibly detailed, and it was obvious even to Edgin’s untrained eye that Simon’s contact had both an artist’s touch and a criminal mind. Simon had been deliberately vague when he wrote to her about what he wanted, in case someone saw the letter and suspected something, but Alyanna had known right away what he was asking, and she was completely on board. She’d come to visit a couple of times to meet with everyone, though she hadn’t been able to stay away from the estate long in case it aroused Torlinn’s suspicion.
Edgin wasn’t sure whether he was more relieved that they had an experienced hand on the other end of this, or suspicious of her motives and intentions. Both, if he was being honest.
But that was why they were being so careful, planning everything out step by step. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
He and Holga stood in the kitchen during yet another day of planning, putting together a lunch of roast chicken with potatoes and carrots. Holga was picking apart rosemary sprigs while Edgin minded the stove, wrapping himself in a sky-blue apron that Kira had bought for him from a traveling merchant. He kept shooting glances at the drawings on the kitchen table, specifically the drawing of the main ballroom where the parties took place.
“Something’s weird about that room,” he said, wiping his hands on the apron. “Doesn’t it look weird to you?”
Holga laid aside her herb bundle and went to the table. “It’s a ballroom,” she said, shrugging. “I don’t spend time in ballrooms.” She squinted, as if that would make things clearer to her. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I guess it’s nothing,” Edgin said. “It’s just shaped weird, is all, like they were going for a hexagon and then the builders got drunk when they did the last side.”
Holga shrugged again. “Wizards are eccentric,” she said, as if that explained away a host of strange decisions.
With wizards, it usually did, and Edgin didn’t spend much time in ballrooms either. He sighed and turned back to his cooking, rubbing his tired eyes. All this planning meant he hadn’t slept much the past few weeks. He was tired, his eyes hurt, and they still had a lot of work ahead of them.
He was having the time of his life.
“Nooo, Father!” came Kira’s panicked shout from the front yard.
Edgin nearly dropped the chicken he’d begun trussing. Heart lodged in his throat, he ran outside—apron, chicken, and all—to find Kira on her knees in the grass, wailing over Forge’s supine body.
“What in the Nine Hells is going on here?” Edgin demanded, waving the chicken to get Kira’s attention.
Forge, who was luckily very much not dead, cracked open one eye. “Wonderful, Kira, really put your soul into it,” he encouraged, then closed his eye and went limp, doing a fair imitation of a corpse.
“Someone help me!” Kira cried, laying her head on Forge’s chest and sobbing. “My father is dying!”
Edgin’s heart slowly returned to its normal rhythm as he realized that no one was actually injured. It was just another of the practice cons Kira and Forge had been devising between themselves for the past few days, ever since Kira had expressed an interest in learning the card tricks Edgin and Forge had been practicing on each other. Forge had been delighted by the idea, and he’d quickly suggested that Kira was capable of much more elaborate cons.
As Edgin watched, Simon came running up, looking like the most awkward extra in their little drama play.
“Oh no, whatever is the matter, child?” he asked in a stilted voice. Edgin winced and just managed not to chuckle.
Kira sprang up and ran to Simon, clinging to him as if he were the only port in a storm. “My father!” she wailed. “Attacked by bandits! They came from the woods! Can you help us, please?”
Simon patted Kira’s back. “There, there, little one,” he said, deepening his voice for no apparent reason other than maybe he was trying to sound heroic. “I’ll help you and your father.”
“Oh, thank you, good sir.” Kira pulled away to beam at him, an adoring smile on her tearstained face. Real tears, Edgin noticed. Impressive.
Simon ran offstage, stopping a few feet away, and Kira triumphantly pulled out Simon’s coin purse, which she brandished before Edgin. “I got it!” she said. “He never knew I took it. Did you, Simon?” She turned to Simon with a hopeful expression.
“I didn’t know,” Simon said, “I swear.” He grinned at her. “You did good, Kira.”
“She did grand!” Forge opened his eyes and propped himself on his elbows. “Well done, Kira. What should we call that one?”
“The Heartbreaker!” Kira said without hesitation, and tackled Forge as he was starting to get up. He fell back with an oof.
“Help!” he cried. “Edgin! Holga! She’s a beast! She’ll eat me alive.”
Holga, who’d come out to stand beside Edgin, snorted. “Lunch is going to be late, you howling dogs,” she said fondly, and nudged Edgin in the ribs. “It’s your fault too. I need that chicken.”
“I thought my daughter was in mortal danger,” Edgin protested. “I didn’t see you running out to help.”
“They’re the ones in mortal danger.” Holga snorted again. “She’s got both of them wrapped around her little finger.”
Watching Kira wrestle Forge into submission, while at the same time holding Simon’s coin pouch just out of reach, Edgin couldn’t help but agree.
Over lunch, the conversation turned to what their next steps would be.
“Operation: Party Invitation,” Forge insisted, waving a chicken leg for emphasis. “All of this is for nothing if we’re stopped at the wizard’s door.”
“There’s always the option to have Alyanna sneak us in,” Edgin said. “We could pose as servers at the party.”
Simon winced. “It might be too noticeable if she sneaks in all of us,” he said. “Maybe me and one other person at most.”
“Let’s do it,” Edgin said. “It’ll give us access to the servant’s areas, which the party guests won’t have. That’ll help us in moving around the house.” He glanced at Holga. “You up for posing as a servant on this one?”
“It’ll be the easiest way to get your axe in,” Forge pointed out. “They’ll be checking the guests for weapons.”
Holga nodded. “Didn’t want to get dressed up anyway.” She shuddered at the idea.
“Which leaves Kira, Forge, and me to be guests who need invitations,” Edgin said. “Forge, you said you knew someone who could help?”
“Well,” Forge said, drawing the word out a bit too long. “When I said she could help, I actually just meant I found out she has an invitation to the party herself. All I really need to do is study it so I can forge us invitations of our own.”
“And?” Edgin prompted when he didn’t elaborate. He suddenly had a bad feeling about this. “Is this woman going to let you take a look at her invitation?”
“It’s true she’s helped me with delicate matters like these before, but alas, when the esteemed Lady Sofina and I last parted ways, it was under less than cordial circumstances, due to a misunderstanding that I will regret for the rest of my days,” Forge said. He lifted his chin. “More than that, I’m not at liberty to say.”
Edgin dabbed his lips with a napkin. “Let me guess. She caught you in a compromising position with her diamond necklace.”
“How dare you.” Forge sniffed. “They were emeralds. Earrings.”
“Where does that leave us?” Holga asked, tossing a stripped-bare chicken bone down on her empty plate.
“I was thinking that Edgin, Kira, and I would pay Lady Sofina a visit tomorrow and I could beg her forgiveness and ask to copy her party invitation,” Forge said, gathering up some of the empty plates.
“Oh, really,” Edgin said, crossing his arms. “And why exactly do Kira and I need to be there for your groveling?”
“Kira will come along to use her natural charm to soften Lady Sofina,” Forge explained. “It probably won’t work, but it’s worth a shot. You, Edgin, will be there in case she needs some extra convincing to help us.”
Edgin considered that. “All right,” he said. “We’ll go along as your backup, though I assume you’re going to have a pair of emerald earrings and maybe a diamond necklace or two to help smooth the way?”
Forge bowed his head. “I always do.”
Edgin turned to Simon and Holga. “Meanwhile, the two of you should be practicing serving drinks and blending in.”
Holga paused with another hunk of chicken halfway to her mouth. “Thought you were kidding about that.”
Edgin grinned. “Oh no, I never kid about proper dinner party etiquette. We need you both to be able to carry a full tray of wineglasses without spilling a drop.”
Holga sighed mournfully. Simon looked pained.