Chapter 13
thirteen
Kit
Gentry was curled in a ball on the floor, her knees to her chest and her face troubled. He crept around her, his feet silent and sure. She’d wisely put all of her items up in a backpack that was pressed against the wall and her back. But luckily for him, she’d shifted in her sleep.
His lips curved despite himself. Clever girl. But that only made things worse for himself as he knelt down at her head and slowly dislodged the backpack. Gentry stirred slightly but remained asleep.
His heart thundering in his chest, he retreated to the bathroom and cast a silencing charm.
It took some digging, but he found his cell first. Fully charged.
He fumbled with the gadget. All thoughts fled his head when he saw his home screen.
“Oh no,” he whispered. Visha. Visha had called him twelve times.
His heart raced when he saw the last call had come in at midnight the night before, and he immediately tapped on her picture to call her back. And again. No answer.
He called Samar next, who answered on the first ring. “Is everyone safe?” He cut to the chase.
“If you mean that we’re being babysat by Weaver recruits, then yeah, we’re all fine and dandy over here,” his friend responded sarcastically, his voice thick with sleep.
“Where the hell are you and Visha? What’d you do to get baby Weavers raiding our supplies for snacks?
We are broke enough as it is without mean teenagers stealing our cookies. ”
Of course, she abandoned ship. It was typical Visha behavior. “Visha isn’t with me.”
”Well, she left at the same time you did. Days ago. Left me to mind the recruits and everything else. So considerate of her,” Samar said drily.
“Sam, Clea has her hair. She made a deal with the Weavers.”
The line went quiet for a few moments. “She manipulated you into doing something stupid, didn’t she.” It wasn’t a question.
Kit squeezed the phone in his hand and closed his eyes. “Yeah, she did. Only this time she gambled on the one thing I couldn’t do. Now I’m not sure how I’ll get us out of this.”
“Shit. That’s bad,” Samar bit out, and it was to his credit that he didn’t ask any further questions. “Well, let’s hope the Weavers don’t burn our camp to the ground in a few days. That fucking bitch.” He sounded pissed.
“I’ll figure something out,” Kit said, unsure of what else to say.
“Find Visha,” Samar said, “there is a way to deal with this. She can offer her own head to the Weavers. A debt paid with blood, Kit. We have kid apprentices. They don’t deserve to die because she’s more greedy than smart.”
“No”—the word tore itself from his throat—“there has to be another way.”
“You know I’m right, Kit.”
Kit hung up, not wanting the conversation to continue. He never would’ve thought that Samar would suggest such a thing. The other man had grown up with Visha, had considered Raja his father too. How could he ever suggest killing Raja’s daughter, the woman he once considered his sister?
Because Samar is a leader now. He has to think past his own feelings.
On an intellectual level, he understood it.
He’d seen the shift in his friend over the years, from follower to leader as Visha skirted her duties.
Perhaps if Kit had been around to meet the new recruits, invest in them, he’d feel the same.
Pushing back his feelings because time was limited, Kit dug through the rest of the backpack. He needed to get those Favors and leave, preferably before Gentry woke up. He didn’t want to linger any longer than necessary.
Triumph sang through his blood once he found the first pink-tinted paper smeared with red in a small envelope. Power emanating from the small slip made his fingers tingle.
He made quick work through the rest of the backpack, which was stuffed full of electronics and old, annotated notebooks that would make any librarian proud.
Dread and desperation took its hold as he realized the second Favor was nowhere to be found.
He flipped through the notebooks, checked the lining, dismantled phone cases.
Nothing.
It was only after an hour of searching that Kit realized there was one last place he’d yet to check. She had to be hiding the final Favor on her person. Frustration made him clench his teeth.
That girl was too clever for her own good.