Dawn Study (Soulfinders #3)(121)

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Mara. Distracted, Leif blocked left instead of right, and the man disarmed him. He backed away as the guard advanced. So focused on Leif, he didn’t see Mara until she’d stabbed a dart into his neck. The man cursed and rounded on her, but she kicked him in the groin. Hard. He crumpled to the ground.

Mara grinned. “Told you I had your back.”

Leif hugged his wife. “That’s my girl!”

Working as a team, they wove through the clumps of fighters. Eventually they reached the entrance. Irys joined them soon after with two others.

“The null shield won’t stop the magicians from using magic inside the building. I can’t tighten it and keep the guards off balance.” She hooked a thumb at the melee.

“I have a null shield around Mara, and I can construct another pretty fast if needed.”

“Good. They’ll be in the main command center on the third floor. Let’s go.”

Irys led the charge up the stairs. No one tried to stop them. When they reached the landing, the door was closed, but faint lantern light shone underneath.

Booby trapped? Leif asked Irys.

No. They’re too busy arguing.

How many?

Four.

Leif turned the knob, opening the door into a large area filled with tables, chairs, desks and file cabinets. Beyond that was another door. It stood ajar, spilling a yellow glow.

Inside, four people gestured over a glass cube sitting on a pedestal. Their voices were clear. “...null shield, you idiot. We need to take this to the roof.”

“And risk being shot by a bow and arrow? No thanks.”

“Bruns needs to know!”

Leif gestured for Mara and the two soldiers to wait. Weaving through the furniture, Irys and Leif crossed the room without tripping over anything. They paused by the door.

Allow me, Irys thought.

Go right ahead. This was going to be good.

Irys swept into the room, surprising them. They turned and then froze, held immobile by Irys’s magic. A number of big, comfortable-looking couches ringed the room, along with a few windows and doors.

“It’s safe,” Irys called to the others. “Leif, prick them with the darts, please.”

Happy to oblige, he yanked a couple darts and approached. The air smelled like black licorice. Deceit. The four magicians were an illusion. He spun, crying a warning just as four people seemed to step from the walls. Another illusion? One swung a mace at Irys, catching the Master Magician on the temple. She crashed to the ground and didn’t move. Not an illusion. And now the null shield surrounding the building was gone.

The three others attacked Mara and the soldiers with such speed that by the time Leif yanked his machete, they were unarmed. Realizing his options were dwindling to nothing, Leif swiped the glass super messenger off the pedestal. Thank fate it was real. He hefted it in one hand.

“Stop, or I’ll smash this into a million pieces.” Leif hoped they didn’t have another one nearby.

Rika Bloodgood pressed a knife to Mara’s neck. “Put it down gently, or I’ll slit her throat.”

He met Mara’s gaze. She mouthed the word no. But Leif couldn’t sacrifice her life. Not even to stop a war. It was selfish, and they’d probably die regardless. His heart twisted with anguish as he set the messenger back on the pedestal.

“Now drop your weapon.”

Leif released his machete. It clattered to the floor, making the same hollow sound that echoed in his chest. He gestured to the walls. “Nice trick.”

“Not a trick, but skill and talent. I fooled a Master Magician with that illusion.”

Modest, too.

“Now move away from the messenger.”

He obeyed.





28





YELENA


Crouched near the Citadel’s southern gate, I waited. After twenty-three days of fretting, we finally moved into position after the sun had set. In a few short hours, we would launch the orbs and storm the castle...er...Citadel. Valek had decided a strike in the middle of the night would be more effective. Roused from sleep, the soldiers would be disoriented and disorganized. It had worked for the Greenblade garrison, but this time the garrisons had some warning and wouldn’t be as scattered.

Fisk’s helpers reported that the supply of Theobroma to the garrisons had trickled to a stop. But was it in enough time? A list of worries cycled through my mind. Had Valek reached Owen? Would the other teams be successful? Would the blood really work? Opal had assured us it would, but maybe the Harman sap would be strong enough to overpower the blood. It wasn’t like we could experiment. I envisioned everything that could go wrong, and I was quite imaginative.

By the time we traveled to the Citadel, my desire to just get it over with pressed on my skin from the inside out. And I was about to burst. In this mood, I could bring down the walls with my bare hands—no storm orb needed.

Fisk strung the slingshot between two tree trunks. Bavol and Councilor Shaba Greenblade watched for patrols. They’d increased in frequency the closer we traveled to the Citadel. However, Shaba’s magic was just strong enough to sense them, giving us enough time to avoid the soldiers. Hopefully Phelan’s crew had also avoided the patrols and was now getting ready to target the northern gate.

When the appointed hour arrived, Heli placed the storm orb in the slingshot and, together with Fisk, drew it back and aimed at the Citadel’s south gate. It had been barricaded closed, and no one should be around it at this time of the night. It was also the second-closest gate to the Council Hall. Remembering what had happened to Valek’s back when we blasted the garrison’s wall, I tried to get Fisk and Heli to scoot back a couple...okay, more like twenty feet. Heli assured me she’d be able to direct the storm’s energy around them.