Dawn Study (Soulfinders #3)(53)

Valek didn’t have time to celebrate or worry if the noise drew any unwanted attention. He hopped to his feet and checked the cells.

They were empty.

A sick dread coiled in his stomach. They had moved the prisoners. Smart. Valek needed to leave. Now.

Except... He paused. Reema said she’d seen them in here. Valek drew in a deep breath and extended his magic. Concentrating on focusing the power, he searched the cells. Power pulsed along the bars. Further in, he sensed the heat from two heartbeats. Leif and Devlen were hidden behind an illusion. Probably gagged.

Valek strode to the entrance.

Reema poked her head in. “What’s taking so long?”

“Four guards inside, not two.”

“Oops. Sorry.”

He gestured her closer. “I need your pendant.”

She removed the null shield and handed it to him. “Hurry up.”

Valek looped the chain around his neck and returned to the cells. The shield allowed him to see through the illusion. Leif and Devlen slept on metal beds in two different cells. Crouching next to the first one with his lock picks, he hoped the null shield would also keep the magical alarm from tripping, but had no idea if it would work. He popped the lock and swung the door wide.

No audible alarm sounded. Leif wouldn’t wake when Valek shook his shoulder. Valek felt his pulse—strong. Probably drugged to keep him quiet. He glanced at Devlen, who hadn’t moved despite the noise. This complicated things.

He raced to the entrance. “We need the wagon here. Now!”

One of the boys with Reema said, “That isn’t part—”

“New plan. Get the wagon.”

“All right.” He dashed away.

“What happened?” Reema asked as she followed Valek.

“They’re out cold.” He opened Devlen’s cell, and she raced inside to rouse her father, but the man didn’t move.

“Is he—”

“He’ll be fine.” Valek hoped. By the collection of bruises and cuts on both men’s faces, Valek guessed they had resisted.

The clip-clop of hooves and the jingle of the harness announced the wagon’s approach. To Valek, a shrill alarm would have been quieter.

“What’s next?” Reema asked.

“I need help getting them into the bags.”

“Right.” Reema dashed off, and soon the stand-in guards and five rats poured into the building. Draping null shields around Leif’s and Devlen’s necks, the kids wasted no time manhandling the two unconscious men into the burlap bags and loading them onto the wagon with a number of genuine garbage bags.

By the time they finished, the sun threatened to rise. Within minutes, there would be more soldiers up and moving about the garrison.

“Go. Disappear,” Reema said to the stand-ins and Valek’s doppelganger. They scattered in a heartbeat.

Valek gave her the pendant before she jumped into the wagon and hid in another burlap bag. Valek arranged them so the collection looked like a pile of garbage. He vaulted onto the driver’s seat and headed to the gate. Halfway there, he remembered he wore a Sitian uniform rather than his delivery man coveralls. And blood soaked his left sleeve and back.

Valek stopped the horses. He hopped down and, while trying to appear as if he was arranging the bags, he opened Devlen’s sack and yanked the man’s shirt off.

Glancing around, he noted a few soldiers, but none seemed to be paying attention to him. Valek changed and stashed the torn and bloody uniform shirt under the bags, then closed Devlen’s bag.

The sun rose in a burst of color and light. Valek climbed onto the wagon and resumed the journey to the gate. Sweat stung his cuts, and he knew blood would soon stain the green tunic. It felt as if a river of red gushed down his back. Plus his heart seemed determined to pump extra-hard.

The guard didn’t move the gate as he had the last few days. Instead, he stood in front of it. Valek kept a neutral expression.

“Took you long enough,” the guard said.

“I dropped a damn crate.” Valek shook his head as if in exasperation. “Damn apples spilled all over. And then the cook harassed me, yelling that he won’t pay for the damaged ones, so I had to count the number that were bruised and write a note.”

“Sucks for you.”

“Yup. And it’s comin’ out of my pay, too.” Valek spat.

The guard did a loop around the wagon. Then he peered underneath. When he pulled his sword, Valek’s heart skipped a beat.

Before he could stab the sword into one of the bags, Valek said, “Hey, can you please not cut into them so deep? Last time one of the damn bags ripped in half when I picked it up. I had a stinkin’ mess to clean up, and I stank of rotten fish all day. And I’m already late for my next delivery.”

The guard chuckled and sheathed his sword. “Some days are like that.” He moved the gate for Valek. “See you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Valek said as the horses crossed through. His back burned as if an archer aimed a crossbow at him, and the feeling didn’t dissipate until they were far from the guards’ sight. Increasing the horses’ pace, Valek guided the wagon to the old warehouse they had rented. It was empty except for Rusalka. She had turned up in a stall next to Onyx one morning, and he’d moved her here as they prepared for the rescue.