Jase looked at me, his eyes dark with concern.
I blew out a long, cleansing breath. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out,” I said, “but this time there will be no secrets between us, and we’ll be working on the same side.”
He smiled. “The Ballenger odds have just doubled.” He nudged my shoulder until I was lying back on the grass, and he kissed my cheek. “Before I forget, I still owe you something.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The riddle I promised you. The good one. It took me a while. Turns out it’s not that easy to find the right words.” He lifted my hand, kissing my fingertips as if he cherished each one. “But sometimes you need to say what is in your heart while you can, because you might not get a chance later. Every word is as true as I can make it, Kazi, so I may as well tell you now.”
He pulled his shirt loose from his trousers.
“Jase,” I said. “Just what are you—”
“Shhh,” he whispered. “Wait.” He took my hand and slipped it beneath the fabric, pressing it flat to his chest. His skin was hot under my palm, and I felt the light beat of his heart beneath my fingers. “Ready?” he asked. “Listen carefully, because I won’t repeat myself, Ambassador Brightmist.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry, Patrei. I’m a good listener.” He began, still pressing my hand to his chest.
“I have no mouth, but my hunger is fed,
With glimpse, and touch, and kindness said.
I have no eyes, but see a soul,
The only one that makes me whole.
I swell beneath a soldier’s palm,
Its touch my breath, my blood, my calm.
I am utterly lost, but completely found,
Captured, taken … a prisoner bound.”
My throat ached. I knew the answer, but I played the game. “A key? The wind? A map?” His lips brushed mine between each wrong guess.
“It may take me a while to figure this out,” I said.
His mouth was warm against mine, his tongue gentle, his hands curling through my hair. “Take as long as you like.”
We were in no hurry.
We were alone, we had each other, and we had a whole wilderness ahead of us.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
The bird was dead. He’d seen it fall from the sky. A dozen arrows had followed its flight. One had found its mark in the bird’s breast. He scooped it up with his bony fingers and cradled the bird. Its neck was broken, and its head fell back in an elegant swoon over his arm. He already knew what the note attached to its leg said. He’d stood behind Jalaine as she wrote it.
Jase, Kazi, anyone,
Come! Please! Samuel is dead.
They’re banging the door.
I have to—
He’d known she wouldn’t have time to finish the note. She had barely had time to release the bird. He looked down to where the arrow pierced its stained breast. He gripped the shaft and pulled it from the bird. A spray of downy white feathers floated to the ground. He didn’t know if it would help, but he had promised Jalaine, and he always kept his promises. He lifted the bird to his mouth and whispered against the feathers. Not yet. Not today, then threw the bird into the air.
Its wings snapped taut, catching the current, and it flew away from Tor’s Watch.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am so thankful to the enormously talented team at Macmillan and Henry Holt: Jean Feiwel, Laura Godwin, Angus Killick, Jon Yaged, Christian Trimmer, Morgan Dubin, Brittany Pearlman, Ashley Woodfolk, Teresa Ferraiolo, Allison Verost, Lucy Del Priore, Katie Halata, Mariel Dawson, Robby Brown, Molly Ellis, Jennifer Gonzalez, Claire Taylor, Jennifer Edwards, Jess Brigman, Mark Von Bargen, Sofrina Hinton, and the army of you who work behind the scenes—from advertising to marketing, to sales and publicity, to hand-selling at every stage of the process—you make book magic happen. Without you, Dance of Thieves wouldn’t exist, and I am grateful to all of you.
Additional accolades to Starr Baer, Ana Deboo, and Rachel Murray for careful and multiple reads and expert advice. Rachel, also extra thanks for all the hats you wear—you keep the wheels turning.
I am forever indebted and grateful to my extremely talented editor, Kate Farrell. She is so very smart, patient, always there with a listening ear, and offers up boatloads of wisdom at every turn. She is a rare gem, and I’m one lucky writer to have her.
Thanks and hugs to Caitlin Sweeny, who championed this book from the beginning and continued to support it from afar and offered the very first “review,” which meant the world to me.
Keith Thompson, map artist extraordinaire, worked his magic again. I am such a map geek, and I may have squealed when I found out he was creating a new map for Dance of Thieves. He brought the Remnant world and now Jase and Kazi’s world alive with positive brilliance.
I am always surprised by the breadth of talent of Rich Deas. The Dance of Thieves cover is perhaps one of the prettiest covers I have ever seen, and with wings and swords and thannis vine, he infuses meaning and beauty into his art. The cover is everything I could have hoped for and more. Thank you, Rich. Many thanks also to Becca Syracuse, who worked on the design details and made the whole book come together in a stunning way.
I can never sing enough praises for my hardworking, wise, hand-holding, and smart agent, Rosemary Stimola. She is the whole pie with a big dollop of ice cream on top. Thank you to Ro and the Studio crew, Debra, Pete, Adriana, Allison, and Erica, for helping me navigate this wonderful but crazy business.
A bouquet of gratitude to my foreign publishers, agents, and readers worldwide who embraced the Remnant world and jumped on this book at first whisper. I hope one day I can travel to all of your amazing countries and thank you personally!
I am forever indebted to librarians, booksellers, tweeters, booktubers, bloggers, Instagrammers, and the many fans who have spread the word in innumerable and astonishing ways—from reviews to tweets, to fan art, to drop-dead gorgeous cover shots, to full-on cosplay, and even to candles celebrating the Dance of Thieves world. I am humbled and in awe of their talent and boundless enthusiasm, and grateful to be on this book journey with them.
I will always be thankful for so many dedicated, generous, badass, in-the-trenches YA writers. Through all the stages and the highs and lows of what we do, they keep me grounded with my eye on the story, help stamp out plot fires and character mutinies, and offer support and writing advice. Their deep wells of creativity inspire me. Thank you to Marlene Perez, Melissa Wyatt, Alyson No?l, Jodi Meadows, Susan Dennard, Jill Rubalcaba, and additional thanks to Robin LaFevers, who happened to be writing a same-universe book at the same time and mused with me on the challenges these books present. Thanks also to Leigh Bardugo for sage advice and offering metaphors about meadows just when I needed it. I owe you a bouquet of flowers. And many thanks to Tobin Anderson, who commiserated on the corners we write ourselves into and offered resources and thoughts on riddles.
My family is my rock and my joy. They keep my spinning thoughts in perspective and support me unfailingly. Thank you to Jessica, Dan, Karen, Ben, Ava, Emily, Leah, and sweet baby B, who will debut about the same time as this book. My heart is full.
And of course, my deepest thanks to Dennis, my favorite thief, and the man who stole my heart. I have danced through life “chained” to this brilliant man, who has helped me see so much of the world in a new way and is always eager to see it through my eyes too. The day we met, our world doubled. He is the best partner in crime I could have asked for and always there for me whether he is bringing me a latté, a lunch, or a listening ear to help me untangle a plot knot. He makes the writing and the books happen.