by Ally Shields
Kam looked at Seth. “Where do we begin?” She examined one of the containers. “This has numbers on it. If we had access to their computer system, we might locate the obsidian statue that way. Otherwise, it could be a long hunt.” She suddenly frowned. “Why don’t we feel its magic?”
“I don’t think Jermon’s had time to get here before us, and I don’t see signs of a search. We’ve speculated before it might be shielded. Maybe it has the ability to shield itself. Or there’s magical interference by something else.”
“Touching the right container should at least reveal the magic of a shield,” she said. They started on the right, shifting boxes or crates whenever necessary to reach those behind. It would be a long process. And dirty. Kam stopped and bushed the gritty residue off her hands. Sand dust. They’d hardly made a dent. Seth shoved a container with metal corners, and it squealed against the concrete floor. They froze.
But that small sound couldn’t possibly carry all the way upstairs.
“Who’s in there?” a voice from the doorway demanded. A flashlight reached into the dark corners, and the taller of the two museum guards stepped into the room. He was already on his phone. “Get down here. Storage room one.”
Kam’s pulsed jumped, and she backed toward the wall. They’d gotten so involved in looking through the crates they’d lost track of time. The guard was on his regular rounds, and as bad luck would have it, he’d already been in the basement when they’d made that small noise.
She wedged into a tight space between two wooden crates. Seth’s shadowy figure moved toward the far end of the room. They’d kept their invisibility rings active, but they were lucky the man hadn’t heard them talking.
The guard stayed in the doorway and continued to search with his spotlight. One hand hovered over his holstered gun. Within seconds she heard boots clatter down the basement stairs. The second guard ran up to his partner, breathing hard and carrying an automatic rifle raised into firing position. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard something and the door was unlocked, but I don’t see anything now.”
Then Kam’s phone vibrated in her pocket. Not a problem—if it hadn’t rattled against the wood crate.
“Did you hear that?”
She shifted her body immediately, and the sound stopped. But the rifleman swung his gun around and aimed it directly at Kam’s position.
Her heart beat double-time, but she slowly couched to make as small a target as possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
By the time darkness fell in Elvenrude, Rhyden and Merik had searched seven farms in their designated area without success. At the last home, they’d irritated a family of seven sitting down to supper, and the younger children had responded to their parents’ tone by squalling at the top of their lungs. The incident only added to Rhyden’s growing frustration.
He was cold and hungry. And he wondered if this catchall approach was wasting valuable time. Shouldn’t they be using their heads to figure out where Kurzi might go instead of riding around in circles? He blew his warm breath on his frozen fingers. Gloves weren’t helping much. “I could use a warm mug of hard cider.”
Merik glanced at him. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d prefer something to eat first. I kept thinking how good the farmer’s chickens would look on the end of a roasting stick.” He jerked his head toward a wooded gully to the right of their current path. “Once we check out the lights we saw from that last rise, why don’t we take a break in town to regroup?”
“I’d go for that. Let’s get this done.” Rhyden dug his heels in to urge his stallion down the slope of the ravine. They entered the woods, using the distant light to guide their path. As they drew closer, he narrowed his eyes and slowed his horse. It wasn’t lantern light from a house or hut. It flickered too much.
He put out a cautioning hand as Merik came alongside. “I think it’s a campfire. Who’d be camping out in the middle of winter?”
They swung off their horses and led them cautiously through the trees until they had a clear view. A man crouched over a fire warming his hands. His horse was tied to a nearby tree. Catching the scent of other horses, it suddenly snorted and nickered. The man’s head came up, instantly alert.
“Don’t be alarmed.” Rhyden stepped forward. “We saw your light and—”
Merik grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back as the stranger leaped to his feet, whipped his bow around, and fired. The arrow sank into a tree trunk only inches away.
“Hey, what the hell? Stop shooting,” Rhyden shouted.
When a second arrow nearly cut his ear, Rhyden’s surprise turned to anger. He drew his bow, but Merik had already returned the shot, nicking the stranger’s arm. The man dropped his bow and ran for his horse, struggling to untie it.
“He’s one of them. Probably a sentry.” Merik mounted and spurred his horse forward as the man sprang onto his horse and vanished among the trees.
Rhyden grabbed his stallion’s mane, swung on board, and they’d already joined the chase by the time he gained a secure seat. Branches whipped at horse and rider as they plunged through the brittle underbrush. Finally reaching a moonlit clearing, he saw Merik just ahead.
“Where’d he go?” Rhyden shouted.
“I’m not sure. I think up there.” Merik pointed toward a trail winding up and out of the ravine.
“You follow him, I’m going straight ahead in case he’s drawing us away from his friends.”
“Yo.” Merik lifted a hand in acknowledgement and kicked his horse. It sprang up the rocky path. “Watch your back.”
Rhyden picked his way more carefully now. If the rest of the rebels were ahead, he didn’t want to plunge headlong into an armed camp. The faint path he followed faded into nothing. His stallion had been breaking a new trail for at least ten minutes when he heard someone coming up from behind. He reined his horse around a bramble bush and waited.
A rider finally appeared. As he moved closer, Rhyden relaxed and nudged his horse forward. “Hey, Merik, looking for me?”
The other man started, and his horse reacted by shying sideways. “Geez, don’t do that.” Merik brought his horse under control. “The guy got away. But I recognized him. Name’s Vinc. He lives a mile or two from here. We should check his house, but it’s pretty small for a hideout.” He looked around. “Uh, where were you going? I don’t see a path.”
“Just following the lay of the land,” Rhyden admitted. “I thought I’d find something by now. If the rebels are hiding in here, there must be a farm or a forest hut.”
“The sentry has probably circled and warned them by now,” Merik said disgustedly. “They’ll have fled. In any case, we’re not going to find them in this dense brush. Let’s get out of here and check Vinc’s farm.”
“Ok, then we need to find Brunic. A larger group of searchers might pick up the trail before they get too far.”
“The farm’s on our way.” Merik made a sharp turn to the right. They broke out of the brush five minutes later.
The peat hut belonging to Vinc and his wife sheltered against the side of a hill. It had two living areas but no interior walls separating them. No place to hide anyone. They checked a root cellar that might hold five or six people in a pinch, but it was empty except for stored vegetables and dried meat.
As expected, Vinc wasn’t home. His wife claimed she didn’t know where he was.
“He sometimes plays poker in town.”
“You tell him we were here,” Merik said once they’d remounted and were ready to leave. “Tell him to come talk to me.”
Rhyden was noticing a pattern. Merik didn’t give up on anybody.
The woman remained noncommittal. “I’ll tell him.” She stood in the lighted doorway until they were almost out of sight.
“Now we find Brunic.” Rhyden turned his horse toward town and gave him his head. The stallion broke into a lope.
“And food,” Merik added.
“Yeah, that too.”
*
* *
Esty frowned at her parents. She still wasn’t over the ignominy of being dumped at home. “I don’t understand why you think I’m in danger. I’m not a mystic…or anyone else important.”
Her father gave her a reproving look. “You’re important to us.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Instantly contrite for pouting, she hugged him. “But honestly, Father, he didn’t need to call you home from work.”
“To the contrary, Rhyden showed rare good sense. Until we know exactly what’s happening, I want to be sure my family is safe.” He reached out an arm to his wife. “For the first time, I’m glad Kameo isn’t in Elvenrude. These rebels are not to be taken lightly.”
Esty shivered, remembering the horrific barn fire. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to spend the rest of the day at home. It was getting late anyway. But tomorrow she was going back to the guild. She had a traitor to find.
The rest of the afternoon, she watched the door and listened for steps on the walkway. She hoped Rhyden would reappear to report Murielle had been found. But the supper hour came and went with no news.
As night settled over Brierwood, she thought more and more about Murielle’s plight, alone, frightened, in the hands of ruffians. If that happened to Esty, how would she defend herself?
She opened the bedroom closet she’d shared with Kam for twenty-four years and dug around inside. Her sister’s guard bag was gone. The extra weapons must be in New Orleans. Esty had a bow, and she knew how to shoot, but she couldn’t go around town armed with that. She needed something smaller she could conceal…like a knife. She briefly considered taking one from the kitchen, but her mother would notice immediately. It would be so much simpler to borrow one from Kam. If only she was in New Orleans…
Well, why not? Wasn’t the city actually a safer place for her right now? She could be there and back in half an hour…and Rhyden would never know. Besides, she’d go crazy if she had to sit here any longer, imaging all the bad things that might happen to Murielle.
She stuffed boxes and bags back into her closet and considered the possible obstacles to her plan. The biggest was getting a weapon through the portal without declaring it. She nodded to herself and smiled. The portal safe. Just like Rhyden had smuggled his gun. All she needed was an owner’s access code. Her father changed his weekly, but she’d known for years the current code was in a hidden drawer of his study desk. She and Kam had discovered it when Esty was eleven. Kam had used it to smuggle in a music device they’d played non-stop until it lost its charge.
Hoping the nervous beating of her heart didn’t give her away, Esty went to the kitchen for a drink of water and told her parents she was going to bed early with a book. With the lie out of the way, she returned to her room and changed into a dark shirt and jeans. She set her short cape on the bed and a multi-colored handbag to conceal the weapon on her way home.
Were her parents never going to bed? More than an hour passed before the house was finally quiet. She waited another twenty minutes, then tiptoed to the study, jimmied the drawer, and memorized the code. KDX793. Within seconds she was out the front door and hurrying across town to the Lormarc Guild.
Her choice of portals raised a few eyebrows, but this was the only way she could think to do it. The Ryndel staff would have mentioned a late night departure to her father in the morning. She’d have to come back through the Ryndel portal in order to use the safe code, but a late return from visiting her sister was less reason for comment. She hoped.
Kam and Seth’s apartment was dark. She’d expected it. One of the portal guards mentioned they’d left for Cairo chasing a lead on Jermon. She felt a twinge of envy but shook it off. She admired her sister’s confidence and fearless leaps into the thick of things, but Esty knew that wasn’t the life for her. An occasional rush of excitement? Oh, yeah. But not a steady dose. Her dreams held a bunch of children…somewhere in the future.
She searched Kam’s room, found the guard bag under the bed, and unzipped it. Her heart sank. The weapons were gone. All of them. She sank back on her heels. Her trip had been for nothing.
Then she remembered the nightstand.
She pulled the top drawer open and looked inside. Yes. Right where it should be.
* * *
It took Rhyden and Merik the better part of an hour to locate Brunic. He immediately sent riders to call in the other teams, and they returned to his office at the palace to reorganize the search. Based on Rhyden’s report, the captain dispatched fresh teams to the gully area, and he ordered Rhyden and the other initial searchers to take a few hours off. Rhyden, Merik, and several of the guards protested and followed Brunic outside.
The captain swung astride a fresh horse brought from the stable. “If Kurzi Everins’s gang is still in that area, we’ll find them. If not, this search will drag into tomorrow or beyond, and we’ll need fresh teams again.”
“What about you?” Rhyden asked. “You’ve been at this as long as we have.”
“I’m going to give it another couple hours, then follow my own advice. Check in at my office in the morning. If we haven’t found her, there will be a list of search areas that still need to be done.”
Rhyden’s stomach growled. The guards headed for the palace guard quarters where the cafeteria was always open. Since Rhyden no longer had official status there, he joined Merik at a local pub that catered to a mixed class clientele. Their arrival together caused a few surprised looks but nothing out of line, and customers quickly returned to their dinners or drinks. The two men didn’t have much to say—after all they’d been together for hours now—so they ate and drank in relative silence before agreeing to meet again at five.
“Unless we hear good news before then,” Rhyden added.
“Dreamer.” Merik wound a scarf around his neck as they stepped into the cold night.
Rhyden turned toward the Lormarc Guild. A few hours in his own bed would be better than a full night on a cot. He nodded at the portal guards.
“‘Evening, sir. You must have been involved in the search. Any news?”
“Not yet. I hope you’re monitoring departures.”
“Yes, sir. We are. Only one recent transport. Definitely not a rebel.”
“That’s good.”
The guard tilted his head, a hint of a smile showing, clearly wanting to be asked about the other transport. But Rhyden was too tired for idle gossip. If it wasn’t one of Kurzi’s gang, he didn’t care who it was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kam crouched between the crates of Egyptian relics, holding her breath, not daring to twitch. The museum guard swung his rifle barrel slowly around the area, while his partner probed with the flashlight. Seth’s cloaked shadow moved toward the two men from the dark end of the room.
“Nothing here, Ahmed. You’re so jumpy you’ve got me hearing things.”
“I guess you’re right,” Ahmed muttered. “The researchers forget and leave the door unlocked all the time. Sorry, my friend. It’s that first night back from vacation. I’ve forgotten all the creaks and groans of this old building.”
The other guard let the rifle drop to his side. “Probably rats. But you scared me.”
Ahmed noisily blew out his cheeks. “I scared myself.” He ran his light over the floor near the walls. “I should have thought about the rats.”
“Well, no harm.” The rifleman slung his arm over his partner’s shoulders. “I’m wide awake now. How about a pot of your tea?”
Kam waited until she heard their footsteps on the stairs before rising and stepping out from between the crates. She was immediately seized by strong arms and crushed against Seth’s chest. She felt the pounding of his heart, and when he spoke, his voice was husky. “I thought he was going to shoot blindly, and I couldn’t do anything to stop him.”
She clung to his arms, her own fears dissolving in the need to reassure him. “But I’m OK. Really.”
Still holding her close, he walked her backward behind the crates. “I want to s
ee for myself.”
He materialized at the same time she did and covered her mouth with his. His fear overflowed into passion. When they were both short on breath, he lifted his head. “I don’t ever want to be that scared again. Even when you were missing last summer, I had hope. For an instant tonight, I didn’t.”
She rested her cheek against him. “I saw his eyes. He was on the edge of pressing the trigger…then mentally stepped back.” She looked up at him. “I wasn’t ready for our time to be over.”
“We’ve hardly begun.” He kissed her again, more softly this time.
When her phone vibrated for the fourth time, they broke the kiss, and she answered it.
“Prince Trystan is out here,” the young spotter said.
She mouthed Trystan’s name to Seth. Although they hadn’t heard from the Cyrilian prince after sending him word of Murielle’s abduction and their Cairo trip, she wasn’t surprised he’d tracked them down. Catching the rogues and finding the obsidian was as vital to Cyrilia as Elvenrude.
“If they’re still drinking tea upstairs, we can get him in the side door,” Seth suggested.
She told the spotter where Trystan should meet them and to come cloaked in invisibility. She and Seth reactivated their rings. As she twisted the band, she noted for the hundredth time how much more convenient it was than her heirloom amulet necklace, which remained safely at home. Seth’s ring had been taken from one of the Cyrilian rogues last summer, but Kam’s had been a recent present from Trystan. Just one of the things that had cemented their friendship.
The upper halls of the museum were empty. Both guards were near the front entrance, sharing jokes or funny stories over glasses of hot tea. Whatever the conversation was, they were both laughing. Kam and Seth moved quickly through the building to the side entrance. She flipped the alarm switch to off, and Seth opened the door.
A shadowy figured appeared, and Seth stepped back to let Trystan inside. When a second shadow came into view, he blocked access. “Who’s with you?” Seth demanded.
