The Silver Siren (Iron Butterfly #3)

The Silver Siren (Iron Butterfly #3) Page 13

“You know what’s happening to me?” A single burst of hope started to rise. “What is wrong with me? How can I change it back?”

Alba scoffed and stood. “I see why he brought you here, thinking that this,” she waved at my eye, “might validate all of the wrong things he has done. But it hasn’t. There is much he hasn’t told you. If he did, you might want to change your mind about his punishment. Besides, you can’t change it back. You can’t make something disappear when it’s always been there.”

“What do you mean?” I called out, but Alba was already shuffling off into the back of the house.

I turned to follow her, but a calloused hand grabbed me around the neck and directed me to the front. I twisted my neck out of the grip and turned to glare at Gwen. Someone else came and grabbed my elbow, and the pair roughly escorted me outside. Gwen seemed to be taking her jealous anger out on me. By the next day, I would have huge bruises. They led me around the building, and I tried to search for Kael, but I couldn’t see where they had taken him. I should have fought, should have stopped them, but instead, I began working on a plan.

Gwen stopped in front of a small stone shed that butted up to the back of the house.

“We haven’t had company of any sort in many, many years, so this will have to make do for now,” she said.

Two more hands grabbed each of my arms and began to lift me off of the ground and force me into the shed.

“Wait! What are you doing with Kael? Stop this…ouch!”

With a shove, I was thrown into the dark shed. The heavy wooden door creaked shut behind me. My lip stung. Somehow in my struggle I had been elbowed in the lip. I raised my hand to touch it and winced. I should be panicking, pacing, screaming in suffocating heat that was my prison.

Instead, I sat down, crossed my legs, and waited.

Chapter 10

One of the hardest lessons I never learned was patience.

My clan was certainly not known for it. I despised it as well as the craziness that comes with being idle for long periods of time. I decided it was worse torture than splinters under my nails.

I counted to ten thousand—twice. During that span, I felt the air around me become cooler.

It was time.

I stood up and stretched out my arms and legs, did a few squats, then headed to the locked door. I had listened very carefully over the last few hours, and I didn’t hear anyone outside guarding my little shed. I could only hope it was because Alba hadn’t suggested more precautions against me. My father had a saying about people that assumed things.

Leaning against the door, I brushed my fingers over the chilled metal lock and felt around it for the dense wood frame. My hand grew warm, and I bit my lip as I concentrated. I was phenomenal at destroying things in big showy explosions, or anything that I could just let loose on. Smaller tasks that required more thought, more tact, and more skill were beyond my training, except for healing. That was just encouraging the body in what it already wanted to do—protect and heal itself.

Sweat trickled down my forehead, and I shifted my weight. I was trying to break open the lock quietly. If I had a set of lock picks or Joss’s ability to teleport, I would probably have been better equipped. Instead, I kept my focus on breaking the wood around the lock.

The beam grew warm and I could feel it start to warp under my hand. I heard the first faint creak followed by a crackling noise as the wood buckled. I waited a few seconds for someone to give a cry of an alarm, but there was silence. I continued my attack on the frame, slowly. As I pushed more power toward the wood, the strain on the wood intensified, and it cracked. The large lock fell off and the whole door shifted down. Jumping back, I waited in case the door fell off. It slowly swung outward.

Creeping forward, I peeked out into the night and gently pushed the door forward enough that I could slide out and duck into the shadows. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into the night. Their arm wrapped around my throat, pressing my back against their body. My mind went through all of the drills Kael had taught me, and I reached for a pressure point on the attacker’s hand.

I heard a cry of pain, but I didn’t stop. I grabbed his wrist and twisted my own body, forcing his body weight to the ground. By controlling his arm, I controlled his whole body, but I needed to silence him before he called out for help.

Part of me wanted to kill him, but I restrained myself. I picked up the large iron lock from the ground with my left and swung it at his temple. On contact, the guard fell forward and didn’t move. Quickly, I dragged his body into the shed and gently closed the door. From a distance it wouldn’t look like it had been broken open.

I just prayed no one would take a closer look.

Where to next? I had to find Kael. I don’t care what he said—or in this case didn’t say—about the SwordBrothers, I was not going to leave him to their machinations, but first things first.

I needed a weapon.

I kept to the shadows and stayed close to the buildings. The streets were empty except for a stray cat. I looked along the rooftops of the buildings and could see silhouettes and torches. When a silhouette moved, I knew it was a sentry. I could see similar torches along the valley’s walls. A door opened down the road, and two figures stepped out of a building, walking toward a tall tower.

I followed close behind and listened to what they were saying.

“I can’t believe he came back.”

“He shouldn’t have come back,” the larger one said.

“This changes everything.”

“This changes nothing. Gwen has made her choice.”

“Have you spoken with Alek?”

“No. Not until we are sure she’s going to fail.”

Both men stopped talking but continued walking. They headed toward a tall guard tower on the south end of town. I ducked into a bush and listened as they rapped three times, then once, then twice. A slot in the door opened and a large furrowed brow peaked out.

“What do you want?”

“We want to speak to our brother,” the tall man said.

“No, he’s…” a deep chuckle spilled forth, “detained.”

“This is important.”

“You will have to wait to have your questions answered like everyone else.”

I watched as the tall man shook his head and motioned for the other to follow him. Both walked down the path and away from the tall tower.

That must be where Kael is. He had to be the one they were talking about. I looked up and saw that the tower was at least fifty feet high, with one small window and ledge on every floor. There was no entrance other than the door guarded by Mr. Gargantuan.

I slowly crept backwards and retraced my steps to the open pavilion I had seen as we came into the village—the one filled with racks of weapons. It was mostly dark. A warm light spilled out of one side of the closest home, and I could see shadows moving behind the screens. Bypassing the occupied side, I ended up in an empty training arena. I closed my eyes and felt a moment of helplessness.

No, I would just have to keep searching.

Silently, I went to the dark side of the courtyard and slid open the door. Thankful for how quiet the rice paper doors were, I kept low to the ground and closed the door behind me. I waited. I needed to start checking rooms, looking for weapons that had been put away. On my third door, I hit the jackpot. I took only what I thought I would need to escape: knives, blow tubes, grappling hooks, shooting stars, and a bow and arrow—everything an assassin needed.