Tweet gestured and piped a few notes.
“Good idea,” Fisk said to the boy. “He confirmed that Mara’s still in the Citadel. She hired one of my people to carry her purchases from the market to her apartment yesterday. We can ask her if she has some of the glass shields.”
“Was there anyone with her or in her apartment?” Valek asked.
“Are you thinking it could be another ambush?” Fisk asked.
“Anything is possible.”
Shaking his head no, Tweet wagged his hands and tapped his forearm.
“She was alone.”
“Good. I’ll visit her tonight,” Valek said.
They discussed possible scenarios and ways to infiltrate the garrison. Much depended on whether or not the Stormdancers would assist them, and if Mara had more glass pendants. The twins and Teegan consulted each other on what they could do with their combined magic. It gave Valek a few more ideas, which helped, considering everyone vetoed the plan where Valek walked into the ambush waiting in Fisk’s headquarters and allowed them to capture him.
They formulated a basic plan, but more information needed to be collected before they could implement it. Satisfied, Valek ended the meeting, then he returned to his room to catch a few hours of sleep to prepare for another long night.
*
Under cover of darkness, Valek scouted the area near Mara’s apartment building. No watchers lurked in the shadows. Just to be safe, Valek looped around to the back, climbed up to Mara’s floor and entered through the hallway’s window. Leif had learned how easy it was to open a window and ensured the ones in his apartment had extra security measures installed.
He debated using his lock picks on the lock. But it was late, and he didn’t wish to scare Mara. Just to be sure, Valek slid his mirror under the door to check for intruders or ambushers. A small fire burned in the hearth and cast a warm amber glow on the furniture in the main living room. Seeing nothing amiss, he straightened and knocked lightly. After a few seconds, a shadow appeared under the door and an eye squinted through the peephole. He rested his hands near his daggers just in case.
The door swung open. Mara flew into his arms, squeezing him. “Valek! Thank fate!” She stepped back and blushed. “Sorry. Everyone’s gone and I’ve been in a panic ever since. I figured all my friends and family had been caught.”
He gave her a wry grin. “I’m not that easy to catch. Are you all right?”
“Fine. Do you have any news?”
Hating to disappoint her, he swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. “We’re doing—”
A bang sounded behind him. Valek whirled with both his daggers in hand. The door across the hall gaped open, and armed men spilled from the opposite apartment. Almost twenty soldiers fanned out—ten on each side.
His comment about not being easy to catch had returned to haunt him. With twenty against one, they would have it easy. Valek, on the other hand—not so much.
30
LEIF
Hungry.
So hungry.
His stomach no longer rumbled, it roared. It growled and dug its sharp teeth into his gut, insisting, Feed me! He lay listless on the straw pallet, trying to ignore the scent of warm sweet cakes a few feet away. It masked the acrid stench of slop pots and body odor. For now.
Torture.
This was torture.
Worse than pain.
With nothing to distract him, he worried about Yelena, wondered how long he’d last before giving in, and wished for his favorite beef stew, and cherry pie, and Mara’s pumpkin cake, and...
It’d been four days since Yelena was taken. Four days of sipping water and nibbling on a few bites of food to stay alive. Four days of silent discussions with the others about escaping. Nothing. They failed to find a weakness. A way out. Their one effort to grab the guards when they delivered the food had been a complete and utter flop.
By the fifth day, bouts of dizziness spun his cell, and his legs shook when he stood. He’d have to decide if refusing to become Bruns’s lackey was worth dying for. The scrape of the door roused him. Too soon for supper. He lifted his head.
Mara entered the jail with two guards on her heels.
His own woes disappeared in an instant as a cold knife of horror sliced right through him.
Leif surged to his feet and then grabbed the bars to keep from falling. “Mara...” His voice cracked in anguish.
Alarm and fear flashed in her golden eyes before she gathered her composure. She turned to the guard on her left. “You call this well? He looks half-dead.”
“It’s his own fault. He refuses to eat,” the man said.
An odd exchange. Perhaps Leif was hallucinating. He certainly hoped the bruises on her beautiful heart-shaped face were an illusion.
Mara stepped closer to his cell. “Leif, you need to eat. No more hunger strike. Okay?”
Her sweet scent washed over him. “Mara, what’s going on? Did they capture you?” he asked.
“Yes, but I worked out a deal with Bruns. He’s really not that bad.”