Circle of Shadows (Circle of Shadows, #1)(47)

Daemon made his way to the deck on which the captain’s quarters were located. If I can get inside, I can look for maps and notes. That was probably the most useful information he could contribute to the mission.

But how would he get Prince Gin out of his cabin?

It would be dinnertime soon. Daemon could stay hidden and wait for the prince to get hungry . . .

Except captains usually had their meals brought to them, didn’t they?

Ugh. There’s no way the Dragon Prince is going to eat with the rest of the crew. Daemon racked his brain for other ideas. He kept coming up with the same conclusion—he had to draw him out.

Not in person, though. Prince Gin would probably recognize that Daemon didn’t belong here. Unless it was possible he could be mistaken for one of the new recruits?

Still too risky. Daemon didn’t know if he’d be able to fend off the Dragon Prince’s hypnosis again. Plus, if he got caught, so would Sora.

However, there was one trick from Daemon’s wolf cub days that might work here. One or two wolves would do something to draw out the prey from its hiding spot. The prey would be focused on the source of the distraction, and the other wolves would pounce on it from another side.

Of course, Daemon didn’t have a pack with him. He had only himself.

I can play the other roles, though.

He stepped out of the shadows to knock on the door of the captain’s quarters. But he’d only raised his arm when someone climbed down the ladder from above deck and said, “Hey, what are you doing?”

Daemon whirled around, his heart in his throat. The ryuu looked at him suspiciously.

If the first strategy during a hunt goes wrong, don’t panic. Adjust and find a different way to get your prey.

Right. Hunting often didn’t go as planned. A nearby bird could startle and set the prey on alert that something was amiss. Or there might be more raccoons than anticipated. Daemon could handle this.

He puffed out his chest and acted confident. “I was just about to ask the captain what he’d like for dinner.”

The ryuu took several steps closer. “You’re one of the new recruits? Aren’t you supposed to be training with the rest of them on the main deck?”

Daemon smiled. “I was, and it was incredible. I can’t believe what we can do with this new magic, and I was disappointed when I was ordered to head down to the galley to begin cooking dinner. Hey, do you think you could take my galley shift instead, so that I could go back to training?”

The ryuu snorted but also retreated toward the ladder. “One of the benefits of having fresh blood is that recruits like you can take over cleaning the head and sweating in that cramped galley, so the rest of us don’t have to anymore. But you won’t be able to get the prince’s dinner order right now. He’s a deck up, examining the weapons we collected from Kaede City and brought on board.”

“Oh, thank you,” Daemon said. “Otherwise, I’d be standing here knocking for ages like a fool.”

The ryuu snorted again, then climbed down the ladder, going below to wherever he’d been headed in the first place.

Stars, that was close. Daemon leaned against the wall and took several long breaths until his heart dislodged from his throat and slid back where it belonged in his chest.

The good news, however, was that Prince Gin wasn’t in the captain’s quarters. Daemon slipped inside.

Flickering, palm-sized spheres floated near the ceiling, lighting the room with their soft glow. A spartan futon took up one of the far corners of the room, its sheets crisp, as if untouched since they were laundered, and a thin blanket—folded at precise angles—lay at the foot of the bed. Daemon chewed on his lip, disappointed. He’d thought that a man claiming to be the rightful emperor would have more luxurious quarters.

There was also nothing that looked like they might be plans. No notebooks or scrolls, only a desk with a completely bare surface. Double disappointment.

Then Daemon noticed the lock on the front of the desk, and he grinned. “I bet you I know what I’ll find in there.”

He pulled a series of small, slender tools from one of the hidden pockets in his tunic. There were two essentials that taigas never left home without: weapons and lock picks. It didn’t matter that he was wearing a ryuu uniform. Daemon had made sure to transfer his throwing stars, knives, and picks as soon as he’d tied on the green ryuu belt.

It took him only a second to assess the lock and another second to slip the necessary tools into the keyhole. He listened carefully as he shifted the curtain pick and moved each of the tumblers one by one.

There was a click and a satisfying give. Daemon didn’t smile, though. Being able to break into a lock like this was expected of apprentices as early as Level 4.

He opened the drawer and . . . there was nothing in it.

Daemon ran his fingers over the bottom of the drawer, but it was perfectly smooth. He slid his hands into the back corners of the drawer, feeling for anything out of the ordinary but finding only wood and an abandoned stopper to an inkwell that had dried up and been discarded long ago.

Hmm. It was possible that it really was empty. But why would Prince Gin bother locking his desk then?

No, there had to be something inside. Daemon knelt down so the drawer was at eye level. He retrieved a small metal pellet—scatter shot, a new, discreet kind of throwing weapon that one of the taiga weapon masters was testing—and placed it on the right side of the drawer. It rolled toward the front.