Dawn Study. Maria V. Snyder
Backing off, Fisk inquired about prices. Keegan wrote down the estimated measurements of the wall and returned to his back room. Fisk waited a few minutes before signaling the kids, who immediately started to bicker and then mock-fight. He gestured for me to intervene. I played the aggrieved mother trying to get her kids to stop. When they knocked over a couple vases, Keegan flew from the back room to admonish us.
I apologized and tried to clean up the mess while the kids continued their argument. As if on cue, the kids settled down, and we paid Keegan for the broken pieces. He was probably so glad to see us go that it would take him a while to realize that in addition to losing a sale, he’d lost an invoice as well. During the chaos, Fisk had slipped into Keegan’s back room. Keegan would have used the invoice for the other job to estimate the price of our project. At least, that was the hope.
“Did you get it?” I asked Fisk when we turned the corner.
“Yep.”
“And?”
He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and studied it. “No client name.”
I cursed.
“Language, Mother,” Lyle scolded.
“Be quiet, or I’ll pinch those adorable cheeks of yours.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered sourly.
“There is an address for delivery and a date,” Fisk said.
Better. “Where was it sent?”
“A farm right along the border of the Avibian Plains.”
Of course. The plains would be the perfect place to hide a glass hothouse. Only the Sandseed Clan and Zaltana Clan could travel across the plains without getting lost, and there were only a couple dozen Sandseeds left. But that meant if Bavol had been working with Owen’s Master Gardener, then the mystery person had to be a member of the Zaltana Clan. My clan. My elation died.
“When was it delivered?” I asked Fisk.
“A little over three years ago. Do you think it’s still there?”
I told him about my theory.
“Makes sense. No one would accidently discover it in the plains,” Fisk said. “Too bad the plains are so huge. It’d be impossible to find.”
“No, it wouldn’t. Bavol would build it only far enough in to hide it from the roads. No reason to go any deeper.”
“There’s still a lot of ground to cover.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem for a Sandseed horse like Kiki.”
“You can’t go unless you have permission from Valek.”
I laughed. “I’d like to see you stop me.”
His face creased as if he was about to get sick to his stomach. “Yelena—”
“Relax, Fisk. I’m kidding, and I’m sure Valek will approve of the trip, since I’d be leaving the Citadel and going where only a few can follow.”
“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Do you know that?”
“You love all this intrigue and drama. You’re the Sitian Valek.”
Fisk laughed and started to shake his head, but his expression sobered. He glanced at me. “Do you think if we manage to save Sitia from the Commander, the Sitian Council would hire me as their Chief of Security?”
“They’d be idiots not to. But would you really want the job? You’d have bosses.”
“Ugh. I didn’t think of that. Hmm... I guess it would depend on the salary.”
We walked toward HQ in companionable silence. The lamplighters began their nightly routine, moving from one lamppost to the next like synchronized fireflies. The sun had disappeared behind the Citadel’s walls, which meant we’d been gone a few hours. Ideally we would return a few minutes before Valek, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him. However, I’d be thrilled if he was already there, waiting for us, even if it meant I’d be in trouble for this extended trip. Although promising to remain in HQ had its...perks.
When we entered the northwest quarter, we caught up to the lamplighters. Amazed by their dexterity, I watched as one woman climbed the post one-handed, holding a lit torch in the other.
Fisk grabbed my elbow and pulled me along at a quicker pace. Concerned, I hurried to keep up and noticed that there were far more lamplighters than this street required, and yet half the lanterns remained dark. I glanced around. We were surrounded by a ring of figures holding blazing torches, and I was unarmed. I’d left my bo staff back at HQ because it didn’t fit in with my disguise.
We stopped. I reached for my switchblade as nasty-looking curved daggers appeared in Lyle’s and Natalie’s hands. Even Fisk pulled a short sword from his tunic. My thoughts flashed to Valek as I slid my feet into a fighting stance. If I escaped, I’d never dismiss his concern for my safety as being overprotective again.
Undaunted by the display of weapons, the ring of fire tightened. My blood sizzled with fear. I shrank back as the lamplighters closed in on us. Even when I had magic, I had no control over fire. And, although I knew that the Fire Warper had been captured and imprisoned in a glass prison years ago, an irrational part of me expected to see him smirking at me through the flames.
Lyle, Natalie and Fisk formed a protective circle around me. They brandished weapons, but I’d bet all the coins in my pocket that they didn’t have any experience fighting against a flaming torch. Neither did I. I held my switchblade, even though its nine-inch blade was inadequate. Fisk had the best shot with his short sword.
One of the lamplighters gestured to a small gap opening in the circle. “Fisk and the kids can go. We don’t wish to harm them.”
“No,” Fisk said.
“Yes, go,” I said at the same time.
“No.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Go and bring back help.”
“The sweepers should already be on the way for help.” He glanced at me with a grim expression and whispered, “We need to delay as long as possible.”
“I’m not worth your life.”
Surprised, he said, “Sure you are. Without you, I wouldn’t have this life.”
“Fisk—”
“Time’s up,” the lamplighter said.
The gap closed, and the lamplighters rushed us. Although the kids showed an impressive amount of skill, the math just wasn’t in our favor. Shorter weapons and a dozen against four. My switchblade was knocked from my hand, and it didn’t take long for the four of us to be backed against the building.
A torch was thrust at my chest. “Hands up, or we’ll set your clothes on fire.”
I didn’t need any more incentive. I held my arms up as heat brushed my face. The bright light seared my vision, turning everything behind the fire black. Next to me, Fisk punched one of the lamplighters, but another ambusher swung his torch at Fisk’s temple. Knocked unconscious, Fisk collapsed to the ground with a heart-stopping thud. Lyle and Natalie dove through the lamplighters’ legs, and four of the attackers chased them. I hoped they escaped.
“Lace your hands behind your head,” a voice ordered me.
I did as instructed, not only hooking my fingers together, but through my bun as well.
“Turn around.”
I faced the wall. Someone grabbed my wrists. Then each one was pulled down behind my back and snapped into a cuff. These guys weren’t taking any chances. But they failed to check my hands. I held two fistfuls of bobby pins.
Dousing their torches, they