Marc shrugged. “I don’t have any on me.”
“But I do,” Theo revealed as he drew out a small flask. “I keep some around just in case Miss Dolios’s voice should need it.”
Marc took the flask and removed the invisible cloth from around his throat. He held both in different hands and poured a few droplets onto the cloth. His palm shimmered, and the handkerchief was soon revealed.
“Magnificent!” Theo applauded as he took back the flask. “Absolutely magnificent! I would expect no less from the professor!”
“If that’s all, we’ll show ourselves out,” Marc suggested as he tied the ribbon about his neck.
Theo backed up and bowed his head. “If you wish. Have a pleasant evening.”
Marc looped an arm around mine and led me outside. His grip was tight and slightly tense, but I didn’t speak up until we’d left the hall. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes darted over the deserted street. All of Mis Dolios’s fans had retreated to their homes to talk about their adventure with their idol. “I’m not-”
We had only gone a dozen steps when figures leaped out of the shadows around the hall. They were burly men in the rough attire of the Ironshores. They had already drawn their short swords and clubs, and their dark eyes warned me they weren’t here to give us directions.
Marc drew me behind him and smiled at the men. “What seems to be the problem, sirs?”
One of their number stepped to the forefront. “You’re coming with us, Pirate Torvus, along with your companion.”
Marc laughed. “Me? Torvus?”
The men closed in on us while their leader narrowed his eyes at us. “Come along with us, or we’ll make you.”
“I’ll opt for the second option.”
The men lunged at him, and a fight ensued. Light burst out from Marc’s left eye, and his disguise shattered. He used his arms to block their blows, and the metal blades clanged off the scales that covered his limbs.
This wasn’t some half dozen Ironshores caught by surprise. These two dozen men were well-trained and serious. Marc had a hard time dodging and parrying their blows.
And I was a liability. I backed away from the main group and opened my mouth to try to help, but I bumped into something. An arm looped around my waist, and I froze when I felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressed against my temple.
My captor’s cold voice cut through the fight. “Stop fighting us, or the woman has her brain fried, and getting a whisperquill shot to the head isn’t going to make her any prettier.”
I stiffened. That’s what was against my temple. One of those terrible weapons.
Marc spun around to face me and froze. His bright eye settled on the man at my back. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him assess the situation.
Then his arms dropped to his sides, and he stood straight. The rest of the Ironshores piled on top of him, and one of them clamped a collar around his neck.
Marc turned his head to and fro, and a coy smile slipped onto his lips. “I think you got the wrong size. This feels a little loose.”
One of the Ironshores punched him in the cheek. The force behind the attack snapped Marc’s head to one side. Marc whipped his head back and glared at him.
The man massaged his fist in his other hand as he grinned at Marc. “Try and get out of it, and the woman gets a shot to the head.” Marc’s ire wasn’t subdued, but his eye did flicker to me.
The man shoved him own the street. “Get moving. We’re going to show you the inside of our new jail, built just for you.”
We were shoved around the far corner of a nearby street, where a caged carriage awaited us. The men stopped us at the open rear doors, and two of their number began to search Marc. They removed an arsenal of daggers, rope, chains of keys, and a lockpicking kit.
One of the men caught his leader’s attention and nodded at me. “What about the woman?”
“Search her, too.”
The Ironshore had an eager look on his face as he stalked toward me. Too eager. I shrank back, but he grabbed my arm.
That’s when Ramaro shot out of my coat and clamped his jaws down on the man’s forearm. The man screamed and stumbled back, flailing his arm to no avail. Ramaro was stuck.
