Chapter 20
Twenty
Ivy
Tucked into the shadows of the narrow alley, I point at a boxy wooden building a few storefronts down the street. “They’re hoarding all kinds of weaponry and armor inside that inn. It doesn’t seem to be operating as a proper business anymore.”
The two men beside me study the structure in pensive silence.
Rheave knits his brow. “Why do they want to keep all of it together? Don’t the Order of the Wild people need to use the equipment?”
I shrug, doing my best to ignore the sense of dread that’s crept up inside me since I started monitoring the scourge sorcerers’ activities here.
“They haven’t had any battles nearby so far.
I’d imagine they’re either gathering equipment in case the army pushes this far into the province, or they’re planning on sending cartloads of it on to the front lines as it’s needed. ”
Julita’s presence gives the impression of a wince. I don’t like either of those options.
Neither do I.
I’m about to suggest that we should set our own plan in motion when a horse-drawn carriage pulls up right outside the inn.
For a second, I think I’ve been mistaken, that the place is still receiving guests. But no one gets out of the carriage. While the driver waits with a bored expression, a couple of men emerge from the inn carrying crates that they stuff into the vehicle.
Casimir keeps his voice low. “It looks like they might already be moving some of their stash around.”
I match his tone. “Maybe things didn’t go as well as the Order would like us to believe in their clashes with the royal army over the past couple of days.”
Several news callers have taken to the streets announcing victories against army squadrons the king has sent to try to stomp out the uprising.
The conspirators passed around free ale and had minstrels playing in a celebration last night that was noisy enough to interrupt my sleep until well past midnight.
I’d certainly like to believe they’re actually being squashed like they deserve. Taking them down all by ourselves is an awfully big undertaking.
I lean as close as I dare to the mouth of the alley and prick my ears. The men bring out a few final boxes, and one of them stops to pat the horse’s flank.
“A bunch of us will be following in just a few days,” he says. “Make sure everything’s organized for the march to start.”
The driver nods and prods the horse into motion. I draw farther back into the shadows as the carriage rattles by.
“It sounds like they’re going to be moving people too,” Rheave remarks once the carriage is out of sight.
I nod. “To march to the border of the province? They might have lost a lot of manpower on the front lines.”
Casimir pauses, a frown shadowing his face. “Something about the way he talked makes me think it might be bigger than that.”
Gods, don’t tell me this situation can get even worse, Julita mutters.
I let out a shaky breath and square my shoulders. “Well, whatever they’re planning, it’ll be harder with significantly less weaponry. Are you clear on your part, Rheave?”
The daimon-man meets my eyes with an eager light in his. “Yes, I’m ready! I’ll ruin everything in there that I can. I’m getting better at adjusting how much power I pour out.”
He gives his fingers a subtle snap in demonstration, and a tiny spark jumps from them to tickle my neck. It sends a deeper shiver right down the middle of me that I refuse to acknowledge, but a little of my tension ebbs.
I smile at him. “All right. Give me a moment to cast the magic to conceal you. Casimir will tell you when it’s safe.”
I sit down on the grubby alley floor, taking the position of my training sessions with Sulla. It’s easier for me to concentrate on directing my magic in the now-familiar pose.
As Casimir takes my place at the mouth of the alley where he’s going to keep watch, I fix my gaze on Rheave. I take in his stunning face and muscular form—and imagine the dwindling daylight passing straight through him.
My power vibrates through my chest, sensing that I’m about to call on it. An image of Stavros’s concerned expression when we confirmed our tactics floats up with it, but I push that away.
He trusts me to extend my magic this far. What am I even doing here if I don’t bring the most useful skill I have to bear?
Although I can’t help thinking that as much as my men like to compare me to Signy, the exalted Veldunian hero didn’t need to sneak around in shadowed alleys or tap into illicit magic to get things done.
I close my eyes against all those distractions, holding the image of Rheave fading away in the front of my mind. I focus the rest of my attention on the consequence I’d like to counter-act the spell.
Up on the rooftop above my head, light will bounce off empty air as if the form of a man is standing on the shingles. If anyone happened to be up there, they might see a mirage of Rheave.
I let my weight sink into the ground to steady myself and slowly open up. My magic unfurls from my chest toward the targets I’ve pictured.
A choked sound escapes Casimir’s lips. “It’s working. I can barely—now I can’t see him at all. Rheave, you should go, quickly. We don’t want Ivy to strain herself.”
My magic races after the daimon-man as he hurries down the road. A nervous jitter shoots through my veins at the sensation.
I haven’t expended quite this much energy in a sustained way… ever.
As long as I keep focusing the backlash somewhere it won’t hurt anyone or reveal our trick, it should be fine. I know what I’m doing.
It’s my power, and it’s going to obey me.
Casimir eases back and crouches behind me. He sets his hands on my shoulders. “I’m right here with you, Kindness. If you need grounding, you can focus on me.”
The tenderness in his voice does help me stay centered in the midst of the magic flowing through me. I breathe in and out, channeling the power through me from the broken soul this man doesn’t shy from.
As if from a much farther distance, a hiss and a warble of flames reaches my ears. Rheave’s spent a lot of the past couple of days testing out his powers, and he thought he might be able to create the right sort of sparks to set the building outright on fire. It sounds as if he’s succeeded.
Casimir shifts his weight with a soft rasp of his shoes against the ground and a gentle pressure on my shoulders. Shouts reverberate from the direction of the building.
My magic prickles through my flesh, contracting into me as Rheave lopes to rejoin us. The second his feet thud into the alley, I yank all of my power back inside with a gasp of breath.
As my eyes pop open, the daimon-man solidifies into view in front of me. He’s grinning wide, his eerie eyes sparkling. “I burned up everything I could—I even melted some of the metal.”
Casimir straightens up and tugs his arm. “Wonderful. Now let’s get out of here before they start searching the whole street for the culprits.”
The courtesan holds out his hand to yank me to my feet as well. We dash down the alley the way we arrived, wind around the back of a few buildings, and emerge into a public square.
Most of the civilians we hustle out to join are peering over the rooftops. I spin to see smoke billowing up from the burning building, tainting the deep blue of the early evening sky.
Julita lets out a wordless crow of victory. Ha! They’ll be starting to see they can’t get away with their degeneracy. I get the impression she’s spun around in my head with excitement. You were amazing, Ivy. It’s incredible what you can do now that you know how to work with your magic.
I chuckle under my breath, not able to fully share her enthusiasm. Like when I pulled the shadows over us on the side of the road, the effort has left me a little dizzy.
I’m not sure I could do much more than this and stay focused.
But it is pretty incredible that I was able to help even as much as I did. I kept Rheave hidden so he could attack the scourge sorcerers in ways I wouldn’t dare to attempt with my own magic yet.
We gape at the smoke for a minute like the other bystanders, just to fit in. Then Casimir tucks his hand around my elbow with a careful tug. “We should probably—”
His voice cuts off as we turn and find a cluster of five men and women closing in on us, their gazes unnervingly intense.
Rheave pushes in front of me in an instant, his hands rising defensively. I grab his sleeve to hold him back, though my stance has tensed.
The man at the front of the group holds up his own hands in a gesture of surrender. “We’re not with… them. We just want to talk.”
The woman next to him folds her arms over her chest beneath her long cloak. “And it seems we have a lot to talk about.”
Julita’s presence stirs uneasily. Hmm. Rather presumptuous, aren’t they? I don’t know any of this bunch.
Casimir puts on his best innocent expression. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean.”
With a scoffing sound, the man rakes his hand through his scruffy black hair. He drops his voice lower. “We know you three hit their temporary armory. We were right there—because we were planning on trashing the place as well as we could. You beat us to the punch.”
The woman jerks her head toward a quieter corner of the square with a swish of her sandy-blond ponytail. “So can we have this conversation somewhere it’s less likely to get us killed?”
Apprehension prickles over me, but the group hasn’t made any aggressive moves, even though they’ve got us outnumbered. The cautious twitch of their gazes reminds me more of our own wariness than the cocky air most of the Order members and allies give off.
If there are other people in the city willing to strike out at the scourge sorcerers, shouldn’t we find out what they can tell us? It’s not as if Julita’s said anything concerning about them—she won’t have known most of the city commoners, I’d imagine.
Rheave keeps his protective pose, but Casimir seems to agree with me. “We’ll come. But we want to stay somewhere we can easily leave if we feel the need to.”