Emmaline followed Amal's lead as they followed an alley a street back from the wall of the Imperial Palace. This close to the halls of power, the houses were grand mansions, three and even sometimes four stories with sprawling gardens and coach houses which would have been the envy of entire peasant villages. Fortunately they still needed to bring in supplies and thus tended to back onto shared alleyways that would allow the common bussiness of the house to be conducted. It reminded Emmaline of anatomy drawings she had seen which described veins, the houses forming the outer walls and the alley the blood filled hollow channel.

"I don't like this," she complained, not for the first time since they had struck out from the thieves hideout. They had been led through a series of tunnels blindfolded, so that, in theory, they couldn't find their way back, but the thieves didn't seem all that concerened about the possibility. 

"It will be all right," Amal assured her, given the light in his eyes he was actually enjoying the prospect of breaking into one of the most secure buildings in the entire Empire.


"You hope," Emmaline worried, gnawing idly on a lock of golden hair that had escaped from the concealment of her dark hood. The idea of breaking into the Imperial palace did have an allure to it, but this wouldn't have been her preferred method of doing so. Emmaline's experience was with confidence schemes and con jobs, both of which required extensive planning and preparation. She would have been much more comfortable entering the palace masquerading as a Priestess of Shyalla or the mistress of some functionary. Rushing in under the time limit that Lucky Jack had set made her anxious. The moon was already passed its zenith and the sense of time pressing on was almost palpable. Once dawn came their difficulties would multiply exponentially. 

"This looks like a good spot," Amal announced, pausing to rifle through the rucksack he had taken from the thieves lair.