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Valek considered. “Have you made friends with the street rats still here?”
“Yup.”
“Will they be willing to help us?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“That’s a step in the right direction. Do you have any null shield pendants?”
“Yes, Fisk’s people left a couple here for us, but we buried them because of the sweeps.”
“You know where they are?”
“Yup.”
“Good. Now tell me everything you’ve learned while living here.”
“Everything? Even the boring day-to-day stuff?”
“Especially the mundane stuff. That’s where we’ll find the golden opportunity.”
* * *
In the gray light before dawn, Valek stopped the wagon at the Moon garrison’s gate. The officer in charge peered at him in suspicion. He resisted the urge to scratch his fake nose or sweep his now dirty blond hair from his eyes. Would the man notice that Onyx and Devlen’s horse, Sunfire, weren’t the typical breeds used to pull wagons? It hadn’t been hard for Valek to convince the manager at Sunfire’s stables that Devlen had approved Valek’s request to borrow the horse.
“Where’s Phil?” the guard asked.
“Broke his ankle,” Valek said in a deep baritone. “I’m just filling in. He’ll be back next week.”
“And you are?”
“Orrick.”
“Got any proof?”
Valek grunted and handed him a paper. “The boss said you’d ask for this.” He kept his bored expression even when magic brushed him. Then he thought of Phil and his bloody broken ankle and the damn inconvenience to him. Valek kept up a running litany of gripes until the guard returned the parchment and waved him on. He avoided thinking about how he had arranged Phil’s “accident” in order to take over his delivery route. Phil’s boss had been thrilled to find a cheaper replacement so quickly.
Once Valek was far enough away from the magician at the gate, he raised his mental shields. He could have borrowed one of Reema’s pendants, but if he’d worn a null shield, he would have been spotted at the gate. Good thing he preferred knowing when magic was aimed at him. So far his mental barrier has been effective in keeping other magicians from getting too far into his thoughts.
Valek guided the horses to the kitchen. Not many soldiers stirred at this early hour of the morning. Of those, most headed to prepare breakfast for the garrison. He unloaded the crates of fresh meats and cheeses and carried them down into the cold cellar. Then he piled the burlap bags of garbage waiting to be hauled away onto his wagon. Valek kept a slow pace, despite the risk of discovery, taking as much time as possible. However, no one bothered him or looked at him twice. When he left the garrison, the guard at the gate poked a few of the garbage bags with his sword and checked under the wagon.
Not bad for a dry run. The next day, he repeated the routine. By the end of the week, the gatekeepers waved him through both ways without a second glance.
On day four, Reema appeared while Valek unloaded boxes of bananas. “Did you confirm their location?” he asked without otherwise acknowledging her.
“Yeah.”
Her dejected tone drew his attention. “I warned you they might be brainwashed.”
“It’s not that.” She bit her lower lip. “My dad...doesn’t look good. He’s got bruises and cuts. And there are extra guards hiding inside the stockade.”
Valek cursed under his breath. He’d bet all the coins in his pocket the bars had magical alarms. The only thing in their favor was the location of the stockade. Unlike the Krystal garrison, the Moon was a one-story standalone structure, and not in the basement of the administration building.
“Stick close. I need to adjust our plan.” He continued carrying the boxes, letting his mind run through various plans and dismissing most of them as too dangerous or a quick way for them to get caught. It took him about four trips to the cold cellar, but he figured out a possible way to rescue them. They’d have to move fast.
“Have you found all the guards, even the ones hiding?” he asked Reema as he heaved the garbage bags onto the wagon.
“Yes.”
“Can you scrounge guard uniforms for the older kids?”
“For stand-ins?”
He was impressed by how much she knew about subterfuge. “Yes.”
She flashed a grin that Janco would be proud of. “Yes.”
Good thing she was on his side. “Okay. The plan with the doppelganger is still a go.”
“And then?”
“As Janco would say, ‘Hit and git.’”
* * *
The horses’ hooves sounded loud in the predawn air. Valek approached the gate earlier than normal—they’d need every extra second to pull this off. A long list of things that could go wrong repeated in his head, but he suppressed the worries and focused on the job. The guard yawned as he lifted the gate and Valek clicked his tongue, urging the horses into the garrison. Sweat dampened the reins. He wore two layers of clothing. His plain work coveralls covered a Sitian military uniform.
When he arrived at the kitchen, a man the same shape and size as Valek and wearing the same clothes appeared with Reema. The doppelganger began pulling crates off the wagon.
“Take your time. Move like molasses,” Valek said to him before ducking into a shadow and following Reema. She led him to an equipment shed, where he pulled off the coverall.
“How many?” he asked her.
“Twelve guards, nine street rats and one cat.”
“I’m the cat?”
“Yup. We thought about calling you the big rat, but I thought you’d be offended.”
“I’m sure my ego would have survived.” Valek handed her the darts. “Be careful. They’re loaded with poison.”
Aghast, she held them away from her body. “You’re gonna kill them!”
“I hope not. It’s diluted My Love and should just render them unconscious. I can’t use either Curare or the sleeping potion, as they’re now immune to them. And I didn’t have enough time to find an alternative.” Finding the My Love had taken him much longer than he’d expected as it was. The criminal element in Fulgor was very skittish because the city was under martial law.
She nodded and disappeared. He waited for a few minutes. Then he strode through the buildings, heading toward the stockade. He trusted Reema and her young friends to neutralize the hidden guards. No need to waste energy worrying about something he couldn’t control.
When he spotted four rats crouched just out of sight of the stockade’s main entrance, he drew in a brea
th. “Hey!” he shouted.
They sprinted, with Valek a few steps behind them. He rounded the corner, and the four stockade guards stared in their direction.
“Stop them!” he yelled when the kids neared the guards.
They grabbed the rats’ arms and shoulders. There was a bit of a scuffle, and two of the soldiers yelped in pain while the other two grunted.
By the time Valek arrived, all four were down on the ground, unconscious. None of the hidden watchers sounded an alarm. Reema and her gang had done their part. Good.
Valek swiped the keys and unlocked the main door. The theory was that only the locks to the cells would be warded with magic. If not... Valek didn’t have time for doubts. The rats helped him carry the men inside, and the kids pulled off their outer clothes, exposing guard uniforms.
Valek scanned them. If anyone took a close look, their cover would be blown. “Stand tall and try to make yourselves appear bigger,” he said as they hurried outside.
He crossed the guard room to another set of doors. Opening those doors, Valek braced as four figures rushed him. He ducked the first swing and stabbed a dart into one of them. Keeping low, he jabbed another in the leg. In the semidarkness, he caught a glint of steel and blocked the strike, but the blade sliced his skin. Fire raced up his arm. He ignored it.
A thud sounded, followed by another as the two guards succumbed to the poison. The third thrust his knife at Valek’s throat. Not wanting to harm the man, Valek sidestepped the strike and sent a dart into the man’s neck. The fourth advanced with a sword already wet with Valek’s blood. Lovely. Valek backed up and tripped over one of the guys on the floor. As he hit the ground, he yanked another dart from his belt. His opponent leaned over, aiming the blade at his shoulder. Throwing the dart, he hoped it pierced skin as he rolled away from the weapon. The tip of the sword cut along his back. He kept rolling until he hit the wall. The attacker advanced, and Valek palmed his knife, but the man wobbled a bit and then toppled, landing with a loud thump.
Valek didn’t have time to celebrate or worry if the noise drew any unwanted attention. He hopped to his feet and checked the cells.
