“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.
I crouched behind a tree as Fisk and Heli launched the orb. The moonlight reflected off the glass as it sailed through the air. The impact rattled my teeth as sound roared to life, ripped through the barricade and blew chunks of the Citadel’s walls in every direction. Bits of marble and dust rained for a few minutes. However, a bubble of undisturbed vegetation surrounded Heli and Fisk.
“Wow. Teegan wasn’t kidding,” Fisk said in a hushed whisper. “That’s...the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! Is anyone else’s ears ringing?”
“Move now, marvel later,” I said. “Those patrols are all making a beeline straight for us.”
“Right.”
The five of us dashed through the hole and into the Citadel. Businesses and factories occupied most of the area, but a few had been converted into apartments. People were already peering through the windows and coming to investigate the damage. Fisk led the way, and soon we disappeared through the alleys that he knew so well.
We arrived down the street from the Council Hall. Sliding into a shadow, we watched the main entrance. Soon after, a man raced up the steps and disappeared inside to report the blasts. After a few moments, guards streamed into the street. They split into two teams and raced off, leaving only a few behind at the entrance.
Bavol, Shaba and I stepped from the shadows. We climbed the stairs at a stately pace. By the time we reached the door, the four guards pointed swords at our chests.