Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, Vi remained low, waiting. The city had been quiet for weeks, which meant the patrols were becoming more scarce. Even without them, the citizens stayed hidden away. Tiberus had conditioned them all now, whether they realized it or not.
After the next patrol passed, she eased out of her stance and looked to the building across the road. The first floor was a shop; a window above. Perhaps a loft for some kind of security or shopkeep to sleep in? Vi had no doubt that the Le’Dans would keep their goods heavily guarded, especially now, when the people around those valuable goods were hungry and desperate.
She hastily crossed the street and came to a stop at the door.
“Durroe sallvas tempre,” Vi whispered, willing the magic to spin outward and encompass both her and the door. “Juth calt.” The inside mechanics of the lock built in to the door shattered with apop, and Vi eased herself quietly inside. Her magic hid the jingling of the bell overhead.
Vi willed the glyph for concealing her sound to hover across the entire store. She stepped behind the counters and pulled back the fabric covering the cases. Jewels shone like colored stars in the faintly glowing light of her magic.
“No… not one of these.” Vi replaced the cover, turning away from the cases. She didn’t need showpieces designed to accentuate the Le’Dan family’s skill. No, she needed something smaller, something no one would notice was missing,hopefully, until tomorrow night at the earliest.
Vi rummaged through the drawers behind the counters. There were all manner of jeweler’s tools in the first four. She stepped lightly to the back of the room and kept her magic strong. With a glance, Vi checked the street. No sign of soldiers yet.
“Something, something…” Vi murmured to herself, trusting her magic to keep her thoughts from anyone who might be slumbering upstairs. In the back of the room, tucked between two towers of drawers, was a thin case. Vi opened it and her eyes settled on rows of pieces tagged with names, dates, and amounts. Some were marked as paid, some weren’t.
She settled on a statement ring with a Western ruby the size of a quail’s egg propped up by two silver phoenixes on either side. Underneath the ruby, the jeweler had emblazoned the Le’Dan family crest.
“Marla Le’Dan,” Vi read the name off the tag before pocketing the piece. She didn’t know who Marla was, and Vi knew most of the names of the important Le’Dans throughout history. Which meant this woman was perfect—Marla was someone people might recognize by name, but likely wouldn’t know personally. And if the Le’Dans hadn’t found a way to get her ring to her yet, Vi suspected Marla was outside of the city.
The rest of the night unfolded with the same ease as breaking into the Le’Dan shop.
Vi made her way through Norin, slipping into the skins of various Imperial soldiers when necessary. She visited a dressmaker, furrier, and cobbler, relieving each of the pieces she’d need to enable the next phase of her plan.
Each of the stores was flush with goods covered in a thin layer of dust. Clearly, no one had been shopping for months, especially not in the more expensive areas of town. It made it easy for Vi to collect all her necessary supplies before dawn, giving her enough time to slip into an abandoned house just as morning broke.
She knew she should sleep, but her first moment of privacy had Vi extending her hand, reaching for one man.
“Narro hath hoolo.” Three simple words, and he stood before her.
“Vi,” he said with immense relief. Taavin’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him. Vi buried her face in his shoulder, pressing as close as she could, willing his embrace to feel as sturdy as she’d once known it to be. “It’s been three weeks. Don’t worry me like this.”
“I’m all right.” She shifted enough to look him in the eye. “See?”
“You’re skin and bones… and in dire need of a bath.”
She couldn’t disagree. But rather than linger on that topic, Vi asked instead, “How do you know how long it’s been?”
“From within the watch, I might not know what you’re doing, but I have a sense of how much time is passing. My consciousness is stored there, so when I’m not in this world, it feels almost like twilight sleep—not really awake, but not fully asleep either.” Taavin released one arm, running his finger across her forehead as if to brush away stray hairs. The ghostly touch was feather-light, and the strands that had escaped her braids barely moved. “What’s happened?”
“I found Fiera,” Vi began delicately. “Though, in doing so, I ended up getting myself captured.”
“Captured?”
“I’m fine,” Vi insisted once more.
“What did you do?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is—”
“It does matter,” he interrupted firmly. “I exist to chronicle time and keep record of your actions. I can’t do that if you don’t tell me themexactly. Our best hope for figuring out what will save this world is ruling out what won’t.”
With a palm on his chest, Vi pushed him away lightly. She folded her arms to guard herself—to try to hold in the truth. He was already worried enough. Vi walked over to the boarded window of the parlor where they stood. She could feel his gaze as keenly as the beams of sunlight that streamed through the cracks in the boards.
“I went out to find Fiera the night Mhashan fell.”
“You went out?”
“Yes, into the fray.” Vi could tell from his tone he was putting the events together.
