Zethan exchanged a wide-eyed look with his sister. “All right. Imagine a shield made of marble, or something that can block the lightning and protect you. Use the lightning to construct this shield.”
“How?”
“Imagine you can grab the lightning and mold it into the shield.”
Following Zethan’s instructions, Valek closed his eyes, but he couldn’t manipulate the bolts of power, no matter how hard he tried. Frustrated, he asked, “What else can I try?”
“I don’t know,” Zethan said. “It worked for me. What about you, Zo?”
She frowned at her brother, but it seemed more from habit than a real emotion. “I couldn’t manipulate the water. Instead, I imagined my shield as a piece of leather and the magic as a dye that I applied to the leather, strengthening it.” Another scowl—this one directed at Valek. “I assume you worked in Father’s tannery when you were younger. Maybe that might work for you.”
A good idea, except his power seared the leather and set it on fire—or rather, it did in his imagination. Leather wouldn’t work. Marble didn’t resonate with him, either. What could withstand the lightning and was part of him? What had helped him in his time of need? His daggers and sword—both made of steel. Yet that failed to work. The metal melted. What else?
Kiki jigged to the side of the road and a stone flew out from under her hooves, whizzing past his head. He almost groaned aloud, remembering the gray rocks he used for his statues. Envisioning a large hunk of the rock about the size of his head, Valek used the lightning to carve the piece into a black helmet with specks of silver that would protect him from magic. When he finished, he strapped the helmet on and peace descended.
“Better?” Zethan asked.
“Much. Thank you both, and you, too, Kiki.”
Kiki flicked her tail, but didn’t slow. They were within sight of the Citadel’s walls.
They looped around to enter the east side in case Bruns had set an ambush on the west side.
“But remember, if a magician is more powerful than you and he has the ability to read minds, you’re screwed. He’ll grind that wall into dust.” Zethan twisted his fist into his palm, demonstrating.
“You and Zohav don’t have the ability to read minds. Right?” Valek asked.
“Yes. I can’t reach out to others. But if you send your thoughts to me, I can hear them if I let you past my barrier.”
“Unless I’m more powerful and can break through?”
“Right. The same is true for Zo.”
“Zee!”
“Relax, Zo. If we’re going to help rescue his heart mate, he needs to know our abilities and limits.”
Surprised, Valek said, “You’re not—”
At the same time Zohav said, “We’re not—”
“Nonsense,” Zethan interrupted. “Fisk just said all the magicians are gone. Who else is going to help?”
The boy made an excellent point.
“My network of helpers,” Fisk said.
“Do they have magic?” Zethan asked.
“No.”
“Then how are they going to resist Bruns?”
Fisk looked impressed.
“It’s not our fight,” Zohav said.
“Nonsense, Valek’s our br...er...friend.”
Valek would have to teach Zethan how to keep a secret. That was the second time the boy almost slipped up.
“I already know,” Fisk said, as if he read Valek’s mind.
“How to rescue Yelena and Leif?” Valek asked, hoping to distract Fisk.
“No. That Zohav and Zethan are your siblings. Don’t give me that look, Valek. Anyone with a modicum of observation skills could see the family resemblance within seconds. Give me some credit. Besides, I have much more than a modicum of skills. You have to give me that.”
“I’ll give you credit for knowing the definition of modicum.”
Fisk laughed.
Valek’s attention turned back to the problem of who would help him. The magicians at the Keep had left, but not all Sitian magicians stayed at the Keep. In fact, many lived in other cities. But according to Fisk, Bruns had been either recruiting them into joining his Cartel or drugging/strong-arming them.
“Fisk, do you know if there are any magicians not under Bruns’s control?”
“There are a few in hiding, but they’re too scared to get involved.”
Valek didn’t want to risk the twins—he’d promised his mother he’d keep them safe, but they might be his only option. Zethan’s storm powers— Ah, of course! “What about the Stormdancers?”
“I’m not sure,” Fisk said. “They’re on hiatus until the heating season. Maybe Bruns missed them.”
Valek hoped so.
* * *
They waited until well after dark to enter the Citadel. After they passed the gate, a young boy appeared from the shadows and approached Fisk. Fisk leaned over Kiki’s saddle as the boy gestured and made quiet tweeting noises.
Fisk’s expression turned grim. “What about the escape hatch, Tweet?”
The boy shook his head.
“What’s going on?” Valek asked Fisk.
“Bruns has an ambush waiting for us inside my headquarters.” A hard edge sharpened his tone.
“What about your people?” Valek nodded in Tweet’s direction.
“Being forced to feed and take care of the guests until we arrive for the big surprise.” Fisk’s disgust was clear. He held Kiki’s reins as if he’d like to wrap the leather around one of the intruders’ neck.