Asti double-checked his weapons. “I’m not clear on his hand. He’s a mage?”
“Yes,” the Thorn said. “But untrained. Raw and potent, especially his hand. It got changed somehow, so it’s almost made of magic.”
“They were going to use him, do one final test, and then they would . . . ‘tap’ into the power.”
“Those words, exactly?” the Thorn asked.
“And most of them went to the machine,” Jerinne said. “The camp here is nearly abandoned.”
“What about the kids?” Asti asked. “We need to save the kids.”
“Save the kids,” Dayne said. “Save Minox, save Maresh and Lin.” He looked to Jerinne on that, who nodded.
“And burn everything else here to ash,” the Thorn said.
“Saint Senea hear you,” Asti said back to him.
“They were leading some of the kids to the machine,” Dayne said. “They’re . . . part of how the machine works.” He shuddered, even though he wasn’t sure what that meant.
“Some, but not all?” Asti asked.
“They need them all for the tap, though,” Dayne said.
“You know where they are?”
Dayne nodded.
Asti paced the room, rubbing at his chin. “All right, I’ve got a good sense that the two of you are capable with those swords and shields. But you, big fella, you’re less keen on using them to hurt people. Mind games notwithstanding.”
“Right,” Dayne said.
“Thorn, you’ve really got no qualms along those lines. How are you feeling?”
“Ready to tear it down,” the Thorn said.
“And what do you have left in the quiver from Verci?”
The Thorn looked at his arrows. “Four smoke powder, three boom powder, two knockout. Plus a couple dozen sharp, pointy ones.”
“No acid?”
“Acid?” Jerinne asked.
“Used them against some dealers.”
“Acid?” Jerinne asked again.
Asti bit at his lip. “All right, down here, those boom powders should be a last resort. Don’t want to bring the roof on us.”
“He’s right,” Dayne said. “You already did that once.”
“That was Gurond.”
“Probably because you weakened it.”
The Thorn scowled, and focused on organizing his arrows in the quiver.
“We can presume the kids will be guarded, but a majority of the Brotherhood are near the machine, as are Crenaxin and Senek.”
“And Pendall Gurond,” Dayne said.
“You know his full name?” Thorn asked.
“I think that’s his full name,” Dayne said. “He kidnapped the Vollingale boy because of a grudge between their families, and—”
“Pendall!” the Thorn shouted. He started to laugh, “Oh, that’s who he is. No wonder he’s mad at me.”
“You tangled with him before?” Asti asked.
“When he was, well, not like that. Big strong guy, worked with two other assassins. But strong guy like Dayne, not a . . . half-human monster. I thought I had killed him, actually.”
“We’re wasting time,” Jerinne said, looking out the door. “I can hear something in the distance.”
Asti went over to her. “That’s the machine. All right, fast and dirty plan. Dayne, you and I will go to the kids, handle any guards, and lead them to the fastest way out. You, girl—”
“Jerinne.”
“You’re with the Thorn. Thorn, you lay down some chaos, let her carve her way to the machine, get those people out. Then you shred the machine.”
“You know what I like,” the Thorn said. He looked to Jerinne and nodded approvingly, which she rolled her eyes at.
“That’s your whole plan?” she asked.
“Don’t let Crenaxin touch you,” Dayne said. “I think he needs to do that much to . . . change you.”
“Good tip,” she said. “All right, let’s move, ‘Thorn.’ Do I actually have to call you that?”
“Friends call me ‘Vee.’” He had grabbed a tool from the corner and knocked the end off, making an improvised quarterstaff.
“Fine, Thorn,” she said. She came over to Dayne and grabbed his hand. “You good?”
“No,” he said. “But I’m ready, and that will do.”
“Go get those kids,” she said, taking him in an embrace. “See you on the other side.”
“Be careful,” he told her. “We didn’t train for anything like this.”
“Doesn’t matter about the training. We’re Tarians,” she said. “We do what’s needed.”
“Jerinne,” the Thorn said. “Let’s move.”
She winked one more time at Dayne, and went out the door with the Thorn.
“Let’s be about it,” Asti said. “Like I said—”
“Focus on the job,” Dayne said. He put that in his head. Innocents needed him. He would do whatever it took to save them. No matter the cost.
Amaya did not remember falling asleep.
But she woke up with her face flat on a wooden floor. Immediately she startled to her feet, checking her surroundings. She had been locked in the room in the lower tunnels of the opera house. Locked in there with Kemmer, who had been dazed. Clobbered over the head.
But then what had happened? It was a blur. Someone taunted her through a door? She had a vague memory of that.
She was surrounded by light now. Great burning torches all around, with a grand lens focusing their light upon her. And seats. Rows and rows of seats.
She was on the opera house stage.
She turned around and almost vomited. Dead bodies were strewn out on the floor around her. Six of them, with Kemmer tied up in a chair in the center.
“What happened?” she asked, taking a heavy step forward.
Heavy.
She was in a mail shirt, full uniform. Shield strapped to her arm, sword at her belt. She definitely was not dressed that way when she arrived last night.
“It looks like you happened, Miss Tyrell,” a woman’s voice echoed around her. “It looks like this intrepid young man discovered your dark secret, and so you killed him, as well as your co-conspirators, in order to avoid further consequences.”
“My what?” Amaya had no idea what was going on. “I don’t have a dark secret.”
“I didn’t say what it was,” the voice said. “I said what it looked like. This will very much look like there was a Grand Ten, undermining the interests of the city and the crown, meeting in secret in this opera hall to discuss their nefarious plans.”
“What?” she called out.
“And it looks like the Grand Ten will be revealed in their death.
