Chapter 30 #2
“Can he get into the main house there?”
“Yes.”
“Station someone there, just to be on the safe side. Two someones, in case you need one to detain while another sounds the alarm.”
The siblings nodded at Hildy’s suggestion.
“I’ll take care of it,” Lia announced.
Isahn glanced askance at his sister.
“Sorry, would you like to speak with Nima?” Lia asked. “He’s the head of the household guard,” she explained to Hil.
“No, you go right ahead.”
“Eat, then. I’ll talk to him now, and I’ll find you soon.” Solaelia ducked out through the atrium.
“It’s fucking hot in here. Why didn’t you warn me? I’m sweaty,” Hildy complained as she speared a sausage and brought it to her mouth.
“Sorry, I forgot how it can get in the solars.”
“Like Domos in late summer. Deiwa,” she said, standing while chewing. “I’m going to take a bath.”
“Enjoy.”
“Lord Yaranbur, you have to wake up.”
Small hands shook Isahn from his slumber, and he trapped the offending arms in bindings of water magic as he opened his sleep-filled eyes. “What?”
“Lord Yaranbur!” the woman squealed. “Please! Sir!”
“Adana, I’m so sorry.” He released his hold on his housekeeper’s wrists, recognizing her voice in the dark. “What time is it? What’s going on?”
“There’s an intruder, sir.”
“What?” He leapt from bed, and the older woman hopped back, fluttering her hands.
“The guards think it’s your uncle. He’s in the basement.”
“Which one?”
“Lowest level, came in through the side door—”
“Just as we thought.” He yanked on a pair of trousers to accompany the tunic he’d worn to sleep. The woolen pants felt heavy and thick against his skin, not comfortable like the linen he’d worn in Domos.
“He’s near the vault right now. Guards are keeping their presence unknown, but they have him surrounded.”
“Of course,” he breathed. The vault was on the lowest level, right beside the tapestry.
“Your sister’s been made aware, but we can’t find your friend.”
Isahn thanked Adana and headed straight for the wall, hoping Hildy was already in position guarding the wall hanging. Rather than use the proper exit, he tapped expertly on the painting beside the door, and a discreet panel popped open.
With quiet precision, he took the stairs down to the first basement, where he slipped out onto the landing. Astutely, one of his guards, Yunus, turned from his position by the main stairwell to greet Isahn. They slunk into the gallery above the gymnasium and closed the door.
“Peros? Update?”
“It’s him,” the stocky man confirmed, keeping his voice quiet. “Out in the open, in the gallery.”
“Which gallery?” Isahn was pretty sure he knew which one, but Staridge had no less than four. It was prudent to confirm.
“He’s just outside the vault.”
“Is he trying to get in there?”
“No, sir. He hasn’t tried. We think he’s been looking at art.”
Perfect. They’d likely found the right hanging. “We?”
“Your friend, the powerful windshifter. Never seen someone who could carry their voice on the air like that.”
It took Isahn a moment to realize Yunus wasn’t talking about Lord Kahoth, his only powerful windshifter friend.
It wasn’t air magic Yunus experienced, it was sound manipulation, but Isahn didn’t have time to explain.
He nodded at the guard, slightly relieved to learn that Hildy was in a good position.
Lia was likely around, too, or on her way downstairs.
His sister had a deep well of power but wasn’t trained with weapons like Hil.
Lia had sort of been given the George-treatment when it came to steel.
Huh. He’d have to see about remedying that.
Yunus coughed discreetly, yanking Isahn from his thoughts.
Go, go, go! Focus! This was why he hated being at the helm alone. Too many variables. Too much pressure to act. But he wasn’t in charge, and he definitely wasn’t alone. Not in this situation, not really. He had a team: his sister and Hildy. All would be well.
Isahn forced his mind into a productive frenzy and considered his options.
He could use the hidden stairs again, but the panel would open in full view of his uncle.
The main stairs were also an option, but very visible.
Plus, traipsing down would potentially give away Hildy’s position along with his.
He glanced at the gymnasium floor, a good fifteen feet below. That’d do.
In one fell swoop, Isahn hopped onto the balcony railing, connected himself to the balustrade with a thick cord of water, and jumped.
He intended to drift gracefully to the floor; unfortunately, he was out of practice, having learned the military tactic a good six years earlier.
He still made it down safely, if a little jerkier than envisioned.
Pulling on his power again, Isahn raced to the back of the room while surrounding the door handle with water to deaden the sound. It was nowhere near as effective as Hildy’s magic, but it worked to muffle squeaks. On silent feet, he slunk from the training room into a narrow, dark hallway.
The sweeping grand staircase loomed ahead, and Hildy’s foot was barely visible between the upper balusters, invisible unless one knew what to look for.
“He’s to your left. Back is turned.” Her voice drifted directly into his ear. She’d seen him, heard him, or Yunus gave her an update. Either way, the intel was appreciated.
Slinking with an ice-knife in hand, Isahn moved stealthily around the corner, his heart rate rocketing when he laid eyes on Peros for the first time. The stocky, rotund, waste of space stood there in an ostentatious yellow jacket, studying the artwork like it was midday at a godsdamned gallery.
Who the fuck wears yellow to a robbery?
Panic fluttered to life in Isahn’s chest. Was this some sort of trick? Was his uncle acting as bait while something far worse was being carried out? Why wasn’t he taking it down and getting out?
Where’s Solaelia?
Anxiety got the best of Isahn, and he had to look around.
Swiveling his head to the right, he peered past the staircase into the darkened hall where Peros had entered.
A discreet stairwell also ran the height of the house from Lia’s rooms to the lowest floor.
If she came down, that’s where she’d be.
A lithe shadow shifted slightly in the dark, and Isahn squinted.
A tiny flicker of flame, cupped beneath a palm, winked twice before going out. She was safe.
He exhaled a sigh he thought was silent. Apparently not.
“Watch out!” Hildy’s magic-propelled shout exploded in his left ear.
Isahn startled, snapping his head toward Peros. His uncle glared back.
Without taking his eyes off Isahn, Peros yanked a tapestry off the wall and attempted to beeline for the hall where he’d entered.
Isahn shot out a cord of magic, but Peros leapt over the tripline, shockingly spry.
Isahn gave chase just as Hildy reached the base of the grand staircase.
She jumped out in front of the thief, shortsword at the ready.
Peros screeched in outright pain as he stumbled back a few steps, leaving Isahn grateful he couldn’t hear whatever Hil was feeding into his uncle’s head at that moment.
With measured steps, they walked Peros right back into the corner, the scene of the crime.
“You want him?” Hildy’s magical murmur pushed into Isahn’s right ear, unheard by Peros, who cowered, albeit stoically, with his back against the wall.
He wanted to say no, let her handle it. But he was, technically, master of the house, and it would be ungentlemanly to ask a woman to commit murder on his behalf.
With a quick nod to the Domossan guard, Isahn spoke to his uncle, “If you put that back right now, I’ll let you walk out of here alive.”
Peros chuckled darkly. “Afraid I can’t do that, nephew. There are some powers and powerful people who are not to be underestimated. You, boy, are not one of them. If you let me walk out of here with this, I’ll be so very kind as to have your life spared.”
“By who? Gasparo?” Isahn scoffed, and a flicker of confusion tightened Peros’s eyes.
“I could take that fool down with my little pinky. He hides behind his veil like a child behind his mother’s skirts.
He’s a coward, and so are you. Poisoning your own sister?
Letting your fucking son forfeit his life over your dirty work for Domos?
You murdered Hothan Tarisden. He was an innocent man.
Why would I trust a word out of your smarmy mouth?
” Rage boiled over as he finally confronted his uncle.
“You have always coveted what you can’t have.
And here we are, yet again. So disgustingly predictable. ”
A diabolical smile bloomed on Peros’s round face, and he latched onto one single thing Isahn said. “Ah, so you figured it out. It’s so good to finally be able to chat freely about your parents.”
A sneer was Isahn’s silent response. He’d always hoped to get this very confession from Peros, certain it would bring him and Solaelia some closure.
There was a sense of personal vindication to knowing he’d been right, but beyond that, and far more relevant, it made what he had to do next more palatable.
Peros eyed his nephew with thinly veiled mirth and continued, “You know, only Rihan ever knew the truth, knew why I had to do it. With him gone—gods carry him to the stars—I have no one to chat with about it. So lonesome. You understand. Let me fill you in!” He giggled, literally fucking giggled.
“I never wanted to, but your mum gave me no choice. They went digging. Uncovered who was paying me and threatened to tell King Hethtar. So, I did what I had to, to protect my family. It was genius, really, a bit of wolfsbane mixed in with their picnic lunch. Then it was goodbye to your mummy and daddy. Oh, and the very best part? Bet you didn’t know this: I popped out of the bushes, right at the end, to say my farewells.
” He wriggled his fingers in a demeaning sort of wave.
Isahn roared as grief spilled forth. Ice-knife poised to kill, he started to close the distance to Peros.
Shimmering into the space between them, a massive glassy javelin appeared. Clutched in his uncle’s hand, the tapestry served as a grip between his palm and the frigid, four-foot-long weapon.
That fucker had pulled together invisible water vapor and shaped it while taunting Isahn, and he’d been too enraptured by the confession to realize it was nothing but a distraction. Likely true, but a distraction nonetheless.
Time stood still as Isahn considered his options. He could attempt a retreat. Futile. Douse the javelin with heated water? Too slow. Attempt to dull the tip with his own knife since he couldn’t get to Peros with the spear in the way?
Isahn never got the chance to consider his final option. Peros drew back his arm, readying an attack from perilously close.
“No!” Lia or perhaps Hildy shouted.
A roaring, bright streak of flame burst between the men. Someone screamed. Maybe they all screamed. On instinct, Isahn threw up an icy shield that melted instantly. He couldn’t see a thing. Blinded by light and steam, the sheer heat of the fire forced him back.