by Isabo Kelly
The night was waning, sending most of the servants back to their homes, but the minion patrols continued to march through the area. After studying the scene for several long moments, Mina finally spoke.
“We’re close to our final goal. We can stick to the roofs from here. But we need to wait for the predawn lull in patrols.”
He nodded, turning back to stare at the city rather than risk looking into her eyes too long. The Shaerta still stirred just beneath the surface, despite the more pressing rush of adrenaline and readiness. He couldn’t afford to let his attraction to her rise now, when they weren’t safe.
Over the tops of the surrounding buildings, he could just see the gold-and-red dome at the center of the Sorcerers’ Citadel. They’d occupied one of the most beautiful buildings in the city. Before the invasion, it had served as a university. Soft gray stone from the Arei-atun mountain range made for a smooth façade behind the marble pillars, arches and statues that decorated every niche of the building. It was even built in an unconventional shape—a series of interconnecting towers, the center one topped with the huge golden-red dome. Before the occupation, gardens had softened the landscaping around the building, and many Sinnale used the area during good weather.
After the Sorcerers claimed the university for their own, they’d allowed most of the grass and greenery to die. Only one small, isolated, walled-in area was kept rich and verdant—the Sorcerers’ garden of herbs. All the deadly little plants they needed for different spells and torture methods.
None of the traitor elves had found the need to spend time in that garden. Althir had risked seeing it once and never returned. It felt…wrong. A wrongness that went past his conscious mind to grind at the very center of his instincts.
Remembering that garden helped him focus. He hadn’t really thought they’d get this far without getting caught. Now, the reality of what they had to do sank in. This wasn’t like before. He couldn’t bluff his way through the day and intimidate when he couldn’t charm. The Sorcerers had placed a bounty on his head, and he couldn’t just talk his way out of capture if they found him.
He’d accepted this could well be a one-way journey for him before moving on to the next plane. He hadn’t expected to feel so fiercely protective of his companion’s life, though. The last thing he wanted was to watch Mina fall into Sorcerer hands.
Somehow, things had gotten worse without changing much at all.
He was so focused on the dome of the Citadel and his own musings, he nearly missed the next patrol that passed beneath them. Mina’s very faint inhalation caught his attention and he glanced down. Three of the traitor elves marched at the center of the patrol, their heads bowed together.
Althir tried to catch some of their conversation but the distance, the sound of marching boots and their quiet tones kept him from overhearing anything. He held his breath as they passed, waiting for one of them to look up, to realize he was here. Liroc wasn’t among the three but that didn’t mean the others hadn’t acquired similar skills.
The elves only paused once, though, to face each other as their conversation grew more intense, their gestures animated. The minion at the head of the patrol stopped and looked back at them. One of the elves noticed and they all resumed walking. By the time they’d disappeared around a corner, the elves had their heads together again, deep in conversation.
“Wonder what they were talking about,” Mina murmured.
“Couldn’t hear, unfortunately. Whatever it was, it was serious. More is wrong than we suspected.”
“Of course things are wrong. We’re winning the war now. They’re being driven back by inches and feet every time we face them. The traitors must be wishing they’d defected with you.”
His snort was almost silent. “Not likely. Though you have a point, the war has turned and that has to have them worried. But that looked like something else.”
“Could you really hear at that distance?”
“If they’d been speaking above a whisper, probably.”
“Handy,” she murmured. “Good trait for a spy.”
Ah, little did she know, he thought. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he watched her lips purse as she considered his hearing.
“You have to get closer to overhear information?” he asked.
“Much.”
She didn’t seem bothered by the risk that involved. He, on the other hand, suddenly found himself angry that she’d placed herself in such danger.
“But there are other ways of collecting information. If you weren’t with me, I’d be better able to blend in and function closer to the ground.”
“I’m holding you back?” He was both incredulous and amused by her assertion. Especially since he’d saved her life twice now.
“This is a different kind of mission,” she said without reacting to his tone. “I’m here to steal something, not gather information. There’s no need for me to work as I might normally.”
Her calm, even explanation made him frown. She was right. Why was he annoyed? Because the woman annoyed him, he decided and refused to think about it more than that. He didn’t want to know why he felt as he did when it came to Mina.
“I have a lot of questions for you,” she whispered after a few quiet moments and another patrol passed, moving away from the Citadel.
“About?” If she brought up the Shaerta again, he was going to have a hard time concentrating. But he didn’t discourage her, which confirmed his assessment of himself—he was an idiot.
She didn’t speak for another few moments. Then, “The woman who alerted them to our presence. She recognized you.”
“There are only so many elves working with the Sorcerers. And I stand out among them.”
As he’d hoped, she smiled slightly at his arrogant quip. But she grew serious again instantly. “There’s a bounty on your head.”
“Also not unexpected.”
“True. But you being so recognizable… Why did that minion at the weapons storage building lower his sword when you stared at him, the first one who opened the door?”
He’d almost forgotten about that. “Many of the minions aren’t as…fast thinking as the servants. He didn’t have time to recognize me as a specific elf, only that I was an elf and they are to defer to us.”
“Still? Even after you left?”
He shrugged. “Likely, since he lowered his weapon.”
“So that was…intimidation and bluffing. Not magic.”
“That wasn’t magic, no. You’d be surprised how far you can take bluffing, though.”
She dipped her head sideways in acknowledgment. “In the tavern, though, you used actual magic to hide us from the search.”
“Yes.”
“Is that… What magic can you do? You were going to tell me days ago and never did. Will all of it leave you so…exhausted?”
“You haven’t guessed yet? That ‘charm’ of mine? It’s a type of magic. My greatest skill, actually. And so ingrained it doesn’t drain me.”
“You don’t control it?”
“Oh, no, I control it. It’s just very natural for me and doesn’t require excessive energy. The camouflage, on the other hand…”
“Yes, I saw what that demanded from you. Is that a separate magic?”
“It’s actually an extension of the charm, just pushed to an extreme.”
“You can work glamour? Like the spells used to keep the List fortress disguised?”
“Not as well as some of my compatriots. That’s yet another unique talent. Not something every elf can do. But two of the traitors have some considerable skill in working glamours.”
“So…charm is your magic. Your only skill?”
“Not my only skill, by far.” He dropped his voice to a teasing seduction and watched her cheeks flush in the dim lights. “But it is my particular magic.”
“What other…extremes can you take it to?”
He shrugged. “The furthest is the camouflage. The skill helps me recognize lies and de
ception in others as well. I’m not easily fooled.”
She faced him fully, her brow furrowed. “Then how could you have trusted the Sorcerers? You must have known from the beginning they didn’t intend to share power with any of the elves.”
He hissed out a curse, too late realizing he was giving too much of himself away to Mina. “That was something different,” he hedged. He did not want to discuss the humiliation that was his time as a “traitor”.
Her shoulders straightened. “They managed to fool you, is that it? Is that why the subject makes you so angry? They lied to your face and you believed them.”
He clenched his jaw to keep from snapping out an answer that wouldn’t help either of them.
“That’s it, isn’t it? They got around your most valuable talent.”
“No,” he ground out. “And this topic is no longer up for discussion. Next question.”
She raised her brows, a gesture he caught from the corner of his eye as he watched the city. Then she shrugged and moved on.
“The woman who recognized you, do you think they killed her?”
“Couldn’t tell. Probably just knocked her unconscious to stop her hysterics. They’d leave the choice of killing her up to their mistress.”
“Will the Sorcerer kill her?”
“No idea. Depends on if she believes the woman’s story or not. And how much power she thinks she’ll get from the woman.” He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Probably not. I just…wondered.”
“Anything else? Or can we make our way to our destination now?”
The movement of troops was slower, and he could feel the dawn approaching, just the other side of the horizon. They still had an hour or so before light would start to filter through the streets, but he didn’t want to get caught out in the daylight. And he had enough of answering her questions for the moment.
Her brows rose again, and a very faint lift of her lips could have been the beginnings of a smile. He scowled, but her expression remained the same. With a nod toward one side of the building, she moved out, keeping low so they couldn’t be easily seen from the street. He hefted the sword he was carrying—easier to use if it was still in hand rather than tucked into his belt—and followed her.
Chapter Nine
Mina left Althir in the bedroom of the small apartment that was their current hideout and took up vigil in the sitting room. From here, she could see the minion patrols come and go from two of their barracks and monitor movement in and out of the Citadel. Althir had pointed out the direction to the List fortress. She hoped a day, two at the most, of observation would give them a sufficient idea of current troop movements and show her an opening to get them safely past the patrols to their ultimate goal.
To her surprise, Althir hadn’t argued with her when she ordered him to remain in the bedroom while she took up watch in a different room. She’d expected him to follow her, pester her as he’d done every day since setting out. Instead, he’d settled in near a window without comment.
She must have hit a very delicate wound when pointing out that the Sorcerers had fooled him. Given the way he’d been tormenting her, on so many levels, she was surprisingly pleased with getting some of her own back. And his distance seemed to keep the elf-fire from rising, which was much more of a relief than she would admit to out loud.
The effects of the pheromone were terrifying. She’d felt completely out of control, out of her mind with desire, too caught up in lust to recognize the dangers. The last thing they needed now, this close to the Citadel, was to fall victim to that compulsion again.
She needed her wits, her sense, her instincts under her own control or they would never survive.
The day’s vigil kept her occupied and her thoughts focused on something other than Althir—for which she was grateful. He remained in the bedroom, making so little noise she frequently forgot he was there. Or at least tried to.
The movements of the patrols were well organized and consistent throughout the day. If they remained this way tomorrow, she could work out a way to slip past the Citadel and reach their real destination tomorrow night.
With her attention on the filtering of servants into and out of the Citadel’s main entrance, she took her hair out of its tight bun and let the mass fall lose over her shoulders. She’d had her hair so tightly contained for so many days in a row, her scalp was getting sore—a sensation she was used to after the years of working as a spy but one she still didn’t much like. She scrubbed her fingers over her head and left her hair down for a bit.
If she were smart, she’d cut it short, like so many of the other women had done. But she’d discovered having longer hair gave her more flexibility when she hid in plain sight as a servant or a newly brought-over slave. Her looks in general were just generic enough to allow her to blend in without necessarily calling attention. That had served her well in her job.
New movements from the barracks caught her attention, and she stood, flattening closer to the wall beside the window to better see what was going on. The sun had dropped low, covering the area in shadows, though they were still a few hours from full dark.
To her surprise, five Sorcerers marched out of the Citadel behind an armed contingent of minion soldiers. A few broke off from that group and headed toward the barracks, marshaling the full complement of soldiers within. Soon the entire courtyard outside the Citadel was crowded with fighters, their weapons catching the last glints of sunlight.
Without thought, she rolled her hair back up into a bun and studied the movements. She’d only seen this happen once or twice before. Every time, it had been preparation for an assault. Were they launching an attack on Sinnale territory?
A runner charged through the crowd, carrying a message to one of the five Sorcerers overlooking the army. After reading the note, he crumbled the paper and started shouting and pointing. The minions began a steady, mostly organized march away from the Citadel.
Mina turned to get Althir, but he was already standing in the doorway staring at her. She ignored the unreadable look in his gaze and motioned him close.
“The entire army is pulling out, heading toward the border. One Sorcerer just got a message that started the actual movements.” She murmured her observations to him.
“A battle.”
“Yes, but who’s starting it? Is this a defensive movement? Or are they attacking my people?”
“Does it matter?”
His question made her scowl up at him. “Of course it matters. If they’re attacking, my people are in danger.”
“There’s nothing you can do about that now except to complete your mission.”
His logic didn’t make her feel any better.
“And if your people have started the attack, they’ve given us a much-needed opening,” he finished. “Either way, we have an opportunity here.”
She faced the Citadel again. Four of the five Sorcerers followed the army, climbing into a carriage that had been brought around for them while she’d been speaking with Althir. The fifth Sorcerer turned back into the fortress where two others stood just inside the door.
“Do you know what the ones remaining behind will do?” she asked.
“Likely, they’ll involve themselves in the fight from here.”
“Meaning?”
“They can cast their essences outside of their bodies and watch the movements of the battle without actually being in danger.”
“Why don’t they all do that?”
“Those that went with the army, their skills are more heavily weighted to fighting and destruction. The three that went back into the Citadel are better at the soul-casting.”
“And the rest?” The number of actual Sorcerers had never been something her people could pinpoint. Their movements were too covert, their ability to disguise themselves too good. It was only when Althir started feeding them information that they learned only twenty-five Sorcerers had invaded the city and created such destruction. Of those, twenty-one still l
ived. In more than two years of war, only four Sorcerers had ever been killed.
“The rest will either join those at the Citadel or join the battle—if it’s big enough,” Althir answered. “At least one or two will remain in their own strongholds and aid the battle from there.”
“So…given the size of the complement that just marched, I would assume this is no little skirmish.”
“Not likely.”
“And if it’s large enough, every Sorcerer will be occupied with it.”
“Yes.”
“You’re right. We have an opportunity. Especially if the fighting lasts most of the night.” She considered their options. “We should move out soon, even before the sun sets.”
“We’ll be spotted too easily. The servants are still about.”
She acknowledged his point with a vague grunt as she watched people continue to move around the area—though in much fewer numbers.
“Will the elves join the fight?” She realized that outside of the two she’d spotted earlier entering and then leaving the Citadel, she hadn’t seen any of the other traitors.
“They’ll be ordered to, yes,” Althir said.
He leaned in close enough at her back to get a different view of the street, and suddenly she was too aware of his presence, his heat. Not now, Mina! She had no time to think about Althir, not when they had to alter their plan.
“Do we risk running into them if we leave before sunset?” she asked to keep her mind on the issue at hand.
“Only if they’re sent back to the Citadel for some reason. They all have their own accommodations in parts of the city overlooked by at least one or two Sorcerers. They’ll have been ordered directly from there into the battle.”
“How long do we wait?”
Adrenaline flooded her system. She didn’t want to delay. But he was right. There were still too many people in the area. Slipping past them without the cover of darkness would be impossible—especially with an elf in tow.
She still itched to move out now, though.
