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“And probably scaring the shit out of any Empire soldiers who saw those videos of Sirelis,” Drayce snickered.
“Let’s hope,” Rayne mumbled.
“What-what are you? You’re not even human anymore!” Feroz shouted.
Caelan lifted one of his hands to reveal sparks of electricity dancing between his fingers as if he were holding infant lightning. “Funny enough, turns out I never was completely human to start.” He looked over at Rayne and Adrian. “Do we have a route?”
“I know it. I’ll take the lead.” Adrian moved to the end of the alley where Eno was still standing.
Caelan fell into step with him, the wind sending his hair down in front of his eyes. He reached out and patted Eno on the chest as he passed him. “Keep a close eye on Feroz.”
“Got it.”
He wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of the prime minister betraying them or simply making a run for it to save his skin. Even if they lost him, there was a good chance they’d be able to find the secret passage without him, but Caelan preferred to have him on hand so they could make sure he didn’t pass any messages to New Rosanthe.
The storm was now squatting low over the city with churning clouds and one explosion of thunder after another, while flashes of lightning created an almost strobe-light effect. The rain had yet to break free, but the air was heavy with the sharp scent of water and burnt ozone. Sidewalks and streets were largely empty. Here and there they’d catch a shadowy figure running for cover against the coming onslaught.
Adrian jogged for two blocks, glancing back a couple of times to check to make sure the rest of their group was still on his heels. He might not have been in Brightspire for a long time, but he moved like he was intimately familiar with the city.
“You were here longer than you let me believe,” Caelan said.
A smirk tilted up one half of his mouth. “Nope.” He lifted his right hand and tapped his temple with his knuckle. “Photographic memory for places. Once I walk a place, drive a place, or even see a map, I’ve got it memorized for life.”
Now that was a very handy skill for a thief to have.
“I’m so glad you decided to work for us,” Caelan chuckled.
Adrian didn’t get the chance to reply. He brought them to a sharp halt as they came to a cross street that was incredibly wide, leading straight up to the prime minister’s main offices. A tall stone arch rose over their heads and stretched across the street. Under the arch, New Rosanthe soldiers had set up stone barricades large enough to stop anything short of a tank from entering. Caelan counted half a dozen soldiers with automatic weapons held in relaxed hands but easily brought up to mow down anyone who approached.
Caelan placed a hand on Adrian’s shoulder, pulling the man back a step so he could move in front of him.
“Your Majesty,” he hissed, but he obeyed the silent order.
Shifting the God of Storms’ power to the shadowy parts of his mind, he reached for Tula’s gift. I want in their minds. I want them to be mine.
Now you’re just trying to make me happy, Tula replied in a surprisingly playful tone.
Consider this practice for when we catch up with Safa.
He could feel her intense pleasure as her power slithered out of him and through the ground toward the soldiers. But before it could sink into them, it slammed into a barrier, sending a wave of harsh vibrations through his brain. Caelan hissed and stumbled a step. Several hands grabbed him, steadying. He thought he heard them asking him questions, but his mind was too full of Tula’s violent curses.
Lore, she snarled.
Now that was very interesting. The God of Wisdom had taken the opportunity to crawl into the minds of the Empire soldiers and set up his own barriers, blocking out the Goddess of Life.
“I can’t take control of their minds,” Caelan admitted. “Guess we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
“Oh, good. You have a use for us after all,” Eno mocked.
Caelan opened his eyes and stepped out of Drayce’s supportive hands to throw a repressive look at his other bodyguard. “Watch it, or I’m going to start using you as a human shield.”
“Not funny, Your Majesty,” Rayne growled.
Caelan huffed and shook his head. As if he’d ever do that to Eno.
Rayne placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Why don’t you get us a little rain? We’ll handle the rest.” As he released Caelan and strode by, his advisor palmed a pair of silver throwing knives. They glinted in a flash of lightning while his hard expression showed a coldness that froze even Caelan. New Rosanthe would find no mercy today.
Retreating, Caelan grabbed one of Jasper’s arms and grinned at the shrinking prime minister as he released the tiny restraint he still had on the storm.
