Ciaran was acting as if nothing happened.
“Um… I’m sorry, I’m confused. Are you including me in this plan?” I peered around him. He was looking at the blueprints for the opera house. I didn’t know where he had even gotten them, but there they were, spread out on our tiny table.
“Of course.” Ciaran leaned in closer to the blueprints. “Fuck. I don’t understand any of this. We need to recruit someone who understands this shit.”
“I thought you were going to bring this to council?” I asked.
Ciaran just waved a hand. “I am the council.”
“Are we going to talk about what happened before? How I just stormed out on you?” I asked with some trepidation.
“What is there to talk about? You were upset. You seem like you’re better now?” Ciaran shrugged as if this was obvious.
“I’m sorry.” I stood my ground. “I’ll apologize to Rory as well. I should have stayed and talked about it. Singing gets me emotional, which is not an excuse, but I’m just… I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” Ciaran smiled. “We do have a lot of work to do. We’re going to do your plan. And it’s going to be dangerous. And possibly very foolish. But that’s why I like it.” He winked.
“And you’ll let me come with you?”
“Of course.” Ciaran looked confused. “Oh. I guess you don’t know Rory very well yet. He always says ‘no we can’t, it’s too dangerous’ first before he gives in to the plan. It’s his job to make sure we think things through. I mean… Fionn is his brother, so you can see how that dynamic came about.” Ciaran laughed to himself.
“Oh. Okay. Well then… alright.” I was still shocked at how Ciaran was reacting to my temper. “And you’re not… upset with me?”
“No. Should I be?” Ciaran narrowed his eyes, his mouth turned down.
“No. I guess not. And you don’t want me to leave?” I felt ice in my veins when I said it.
“Do you want to leave?” Ciaran tilted his head to the side, looking me over for the first time since I’d come back.
“No. I don’t.” I said it so softly.
“Then it’s settled. No one is upset, and no one is leaving.” Ciaran closed the distance between us and held a hand to my cheek. He wiped a tear that I hadn’t felt escape the corner of my eye. His warm finger traced a path down my cheek, and his eyes burned with intensity.
“I guess it’s settled.” I stepped in closer, looking at the blueprints on the table before us. They really made no sense. Images and symbols were all layered over top of each other in a confusing scrawl. They were about as legible as magical runes to me. But where the rooms were laid out was obvious. The massive open area of the atrium, with the huge sweeping staircase in the centre, leading up to the mezzanine level. The labyrinthine corridors of the backstage area, with various practice rooms and change rooms. There were even more passageways than I ever knew existed.
I located Carlotta’s dressing room and noticed that the passageway behind the mirror was not documented on the blueprints. Nor were the stairs, the canals, or the Cistern. Good. They were probably unknown to anyone other than those in Ciaran’s innermost circle.
“So, what’s the plan?” I leaned in to get a better look at the details of the opera house. Ciaran grinned.
HEIST
The plan was simple but dangerous. And stupid. Possibly very stupid. But we were committed to the cause and would see it through regardless of the risk. The risk to the entire continent was greater if Scion got a hold of a magical object like the Pentacle.
So we would sneak into the opera house through the mirror in Carlotta’s dressing room, hiding ourselves in Ciaran’s shadows until we could make our way through the labyrinth backstage and into the main atrium where the party was taking place. Then, dressed in elaborate costumes, we would blend in to the masquerade.
Fionn and Rory would set off smoke bombs in the upper levels, as a distraction. These would be no ordinary smoke bombs. Their magic would keep them billowing, giving the illusion of a real fire, until the whole party had to evacuate. Apparently this was a tactic they had used many times in the past, during their vigilante days in Cliatha.
“Oh yeah, we used to smoke out the Scion churches all the time back in our carefree youths. They were still so new in Erinn. Trying to get everyone to convert to their ‘One Truth.’ They didn’t like us much. Called us terrorists and put us on wantedlists. They forced us to quit school,” Fionn had explained in the training room one day while we were putting together the finer points of our plan. “I blame them for my lack of education.”
“You can’t blame Scion for the fact that you can barely read or add two numbers together, Fionn. That happened well before they arrived,” Elena chirped at him.
“Hey. Icanread. Ask me anything. I know lots of words,” Fionn volleyed back, chuckling.
“Sure you know lots of words. They all start with ‘F,’” Rory murmured under his breath. Fionn and Elena burst into laughter.
“Oh, feck off!” Fionn cackled.
Elena’s contribution to the plan would be her clever runic spell work. She would be in charge of changing all the Scion iconography to the symbols of the magic wielders: the Pentacle, the Cup, the Dagger and the Wand. This would send a message. We are here. We are fighting back. We will not sit idly by while you take our city.
