Dawn Study
Page 18
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t stay here. You’ve been spotted all over town. It’s amazing you haven’t been arrested already.” Her tone was a combination only a young teen girl could pull off—equal parts annoyed, dismissive and incredulous.
In any other circumstance, Leif would have been amused. “Maybe you can help me? I’m—”
“You’re too hot, Mr. Leif. You really need to leave.”
Ah. She was a member of Fisk’s guild. “Not without my wife and father. They were captured and brought to the garrison.”
Understanding smoothed her dirty face. “Oh, so you’re trying to be arrested. No need. They’re not here.”
7
YELENA
My captors opened the door into the basement of the warehouse. The bright warmth spilling from the entrance threw me off balance. I blinked and, for a moment, thought I’d been transported to the Commander’s throne room or a security office. Lanterns blazed from desks. Men and women bustled about or grouped together, discussing what must be important things, if I read their expressions correctly. A few glanced at us but didn’t think my arrival all that noteworthy.
Weaving through the people and furniture, our group—now down to four, plus me—headed toward an open doorway, where more light and voices poured out.
Entering the room, my captors stopped. Three men hunched over a blueprint on a table, arguing over the best way to bypass the building’s security.
The guy holding my right elbow cleared his throat to catch their attention. “You were right, General, she’s terrified of fire.”
The man with his back to us turned around, and my emotions seesawed between terror and relief. Cahil. My survival would depend largely on his state of mind, but at least there was some hope when dealing with him.
“Good. Any trouble?” General Cahil asked.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“Valek?” He spat the name.
“Occupied with his own ambush.”
Worry for him eclipsed my own fears. Did Cahil set up an ambush for him, as well, or had someone else? Was it Onora?
I kept the questions—and my rising concern—to myself. I wouldn’t give Cahil the satisfaction.
“Weapons?” Cahil held out his hand, and the lamplighter gave him my switchblade. He shook his head. “Hanni, search her. Be careful. She’ll have a number of darts—some filled with Curare—a blowpipe and a couple sets of lock picks. Check her hair, too.”
Damn. Cahil knew me too well. Hanni, who had been standing behind me, did a thorough search and found almost all my hidden surprises. She laid them on the table, and the other men stared at the amount in amazement. As Valek said, it never hurt to be prepared. Too bad I hadn’t listened to all his advice.
Cahil’s gaze, though, never left mine. His blond hair was military short and he’d shaved off his beard, but not his mustache. Amusement lit his washed-out blue eyes. “This reminds me of the first time we met.”
That time I’d been ambushed in the woods. Cahil had believed I was an Ixian traitor and planned to deliver me to the Sitian Council in chains. We’d gone on to become friends, then enemies, and finally called a cease-fire when he was promoted to be a general in the Sitian army and I was named Liaison. However, the last time I saw Cahil, he was taking orders from the Cartel. Was he still under Bruns’s influence?
“And I escaped.”
“True. But you had your magic then.”
He had a point. I studied him. Was Cahil aware that the Commander’s invasion was just a ruse to give control of the garrisons to the Cartel? That Bruns planned to use the Sitian military to take over Sitia without ever going to war? That Owen Moon practically ruled Ixia?
Now might not be the best time to broach the subject.
“What? No smart comment?”
I shrugged. “Too easy.”
He laughed. “Some things never change.”
Tired of the game, I asked, “Can we skip all this? What do you want, Cahil?”
Cahil gestured to the wall. “Secure her,” he ordered his people.
Resisting netted me a number of bruises, but I managed to knee one of the guys in the groin and kick another in the shin—a small victory, considering they chained my wrists to the rough stones with my arms spread wide. My ankles were manacled together and secured to the wall, as well.
While my situation had gone from bad to worse, I just couldn’t contain my amusement. “Are you that scared of me, Cahil?”
His cheeks turned red, and he ordered the others out of his office. Closing the door, he turned to me with a dangerous expression. “I know you, Yelena. I know what you’re capable of. What situations you’ve escaped from. This—” he swept his hand at me “—is excessive for a normal person, but you’re far from normal.”
“Is that a compliment, Cahil?”
“If it makes you feel better, then yes. It is.”
“Good to know you wish me to feel better. I was beginning to worry that you meant me harm, Cahil.” I kept using his name to remind him of the time when we were once friends. A trick Valek had taught me.
He rubbed his hand over his jaw and leaned on the desk, as if suddenly tired. A haunted emptiness clouded his expression, and for the first time since seeing Cahil, I feared for my life.
“What do you want, Cahil?”
“To talk with you.”
I bit back a sarcastic comment about having to work on his invitation skills. “I’m willing to talk to you, Cahil, but am I talking to you or to Bruns?”
“You can’t stay here. You’ve been spotted all over town. It’s amazing you haven’t been arrested already.” Her tone was a combination only a young teen girl could pull off—equal parts annoyed, dismissive and incredulous.
In any other circumstance, Leif would have been amused. “Maybe you can help me? I’m—”
“You’re too hot, Mr. Leif. You really need to leave.”
Ah. She was a member of Fisk’s guild. “Not without my wife and father. They were captured and brought to the garrison.”
Understanding smoothed her dirty face. “Oh, so you’re trying to be arrested. No need. They’re not here.”
7
YELENA
My captors opened the door into the basement of the warehouse. The bright warmth spilling from the entrance threw me off balance. I blinked and, for a moment, thought I’d been transported to the Commander’s throne room or a security office. Lanterns blazed from desks. Men and women bustled about or grouped together, discussing what must be important things, if I read their expressions correctly. A few glanced at us but didn’t think my arrival all that noteworthy.
Weaving through the people and furniture, our group—now down to four, plus me—headed toward an open doorway, where more light and voices poured out.
Entering the room, my captors stopped. Three men hunched over a blueprint on a table, arguing over the best way to bypass the building’s security.
The guy holding my right elbow cleared his throat to catch their attention. “You were right, General, she’s terrified of fire.”
The man with his back to us turned around, and my emotions seesawed between terror and relief. Cahil. My survival would depend largely on his state of mind, but at least there was some hope when dealing with him.
“Good. Any trouble?” General Cahil asked.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“Valek?” He spat the name.
“Occupied with his own ambush.”
Worry for him eclipsed my own fears. Did Cahil set up an ambush for him, as well, or had someone else? Was it Onora?
I kept the questions—and my rising concern—to myself. I wouldn’t give Cahil the satisfaction.
“Weapons?” Cahil held out his hand, and the lamplighter gave him my switchblade. He shook his head. “Hanni, search her. Be careful. She’ll have a number of darts—some filled with Curare—a blowpipe and a couple sets of lock picks. Check her hair, too.”
Damn. Cahil knew me too well. Hanni, who had been standing behind me, did a thorough search and found almost all my hidden surprises. She laid them on the table, and the other men stared at the amount in amazement. As Valek said, it never hurt to be prepared. Too bad I hadn’t listened to all his advice.
Cahil’s gaze, though, never left mine. His blond hair was military short and he’d shaved off his beard, but not his mustache. Amusement lit his washed-out blue eyes. “This reminds me of the first time we met.”
That time I’d been ambushed in the woods. Cahil had believed I was an Ixian traitor and planned to deliver me to the Sitian Council in chains. We’d gone on to become friends, then enemies, and finally called a cease-fire when he was promoted to be a general in the Sitian army and I was named Liaison. However, the last time I saw Cahil, he was taking orders from the Cartel. Was he still under Bruns’s influence?
“And I escaped.”
“True. But you had your magic then.”
He had a point. I studied him. Was Cahil aware that the Commander’s invasion was just a ruse to give control of the garrisons to the Cartel? That Bruns planned to use the Sitian military to take over Sitia without ever going to war? That Owen Moon practically ruled Ixia?
Now might not be the best time to broach the subject.
“What? No smart comment?”
I shrugged. “Too easy.”
He laughed. “Some things never change.”
Tired of the game, I asked, “Can we skip all this? What do you want, Cahil?”
Cahil gestured to the wall. “Secure her,” he ordered his people.
Resisting netted me a number of bruises, but I managed to knee one of the guys in the groin and kick another in the shin—a small victory, considering they chained my wrists to the rough stones with my arms spread wide. My ankles were manacled together and secured to the wall, as well.
While my situation had gone from bad to worse, I just couldn’t contain my amusement. “Are you that scared of me, Cahil?”
His cheeks turned red, and he ordered the others out of his office. Closing the door, he turned to me with a dangerous expression. “I know you, Yelena. I know what you’re capable of. What situations you’ve escaped from. This—” he swept his hand at me “—is excessive for a normal person, but you’re far from normal.”
“Is that a compliment, Cahil?”
“If it makes you feel better, then yes. It is.”
“Good to know you wish me to feel better. I was beginning to worry that you meant me harm, Cahil.” I kept using his name to remind him of the time when we were once friends. A trick Valek had taught me.
He rubbed his hand over his jaw and leaned on the desk, as if suddenly tired. A haunted emptiness clouded his expression, and for the first time since seeing Cahil, I feared for my life.
“What do you want, Cahil?”
“To talk with you.”
I bit back a sarcastic comment about having to work on his invitation skills. “I’m willing to talk to you, Cahil, but am I talking to you or to Bruns?”