Page 27
Story: Stolen Magic
Solomon rubbed his chin thoughtfully.“Then we should plant a thrall in the employ of a noble household and have them walk alone at night through the areas where the disappearances have occurred.”
“That’s madness,” Finn protested, his gaze swinging around the table.“Even with our anti-magic devices, whoever plays that role would be in serious danger.”
“I’ll do it,” Solomon volunteered calmly.
Unease coiled through Viggo.“Are you sure?”
“I’m the most logical choice,” Solomon replied with a shrug.“I can move silently, I know how to defend myself, and I’ve got the best chance of anyone here at surviving if things go wrong.”He cut his eyes to Finn.“Besides, someone like Finn wouldn’t last five minutes in a noble household without insulting someone important.”
“Hey!”Finn protested.
Hawk hid a smile behind his pint.
Viggo studied Solomon’s resolute expression.“It’s not a decision to be made lightly, Sly.”
“I know the risks involved, Viggo,” Solomon said quietly.“But we need answers and this is the fastest way to get them.”
A heavy silence fell over the table as Viggo weighed the proposal.The thought of putting Solomon in harm’s way made his stomach churn, but the alternative—waiting helplessly as more thralls disappeared—was equally unthinkable.
“You need to be employed by someone of sufficient standing to make you a target, but also a person we can trust completely,” he said reluctantly.
“How about Lady Hartley?”Finn suggested.“She’s already involved in this business with the dark mages and she has the social standing.”
They stared at him.
“What?”the Irishman asked defensively.
“That’s a terrific idea, for a change,” Viggo grunted.
Finn looked pleased for about five seconds before he grasped the insult behind the Brute’s words.
“Ginny will be happy to help us,” Viggo observed while the Irishman groused under his breath.“Her reputation for employing thralls is well-established.”He hesitated.“We should coordinate with Evander as well.The Met must be informed about this, in case we need backup.”
Though Solomon’s expression remained carefully neutral, Viggo could sense his friend’s reservations.
“Are you certain that’s wise?”
“Yes,” Viggo replied firmly.“Evander has resources we don’t.”He clenched his jaw.“And there’s no way in hell I’d put you or any other thrall in a dangerous situation without having everything at my disposal to ensure you make it out alive.”
The fog had thickened to a soupy miasma by the time Viggo left theBroken Lantern, his mind heavy with the plans they’d set in motion.Solomon and Finn had returned toNightshadeto coordinate with their agents, while Hawk had departed to gather more intelligence from his network of informants.
Viggo pulled his collar higher against the damp chill as he navigated the warren of narrow streets on his way to the modest home he shared with his uncle Jack, in Stepney.The gaslights struggled to pierce the murk around him, their halos diffused into ghostly spheres that barely illuminated the path ahead.
He shivered.It was the kind of inclement weather criminals loved.
The back of his neck prickled after he passed a dark alleyway off Old Bethnal Green.Years of surviving in London’s underbelly had honed his senses to a razor’s edge.And they were telling him he was being followed.
Tension oozed through Viggo as he maintained a steady pace.The footfalls behind him were too measured and too careful to be a random passerby.
Someone was making a deliberate effort to remain undetected.
He turned down a side passage, one that would lead him past the abandoned cooperage where barrels had once been made for the nearby breweries.The dilapidated building offered multiple points of concealment and was perfect for what he had in mind.
As he passed the sagging doorway of the cooperage, Viggo abruptly ducked inside and pressed himself against the wall in the darkness.The footsteps trailing him hesitated, before continuing forward more slowly.Whoever was following him had lost visual contact and was proceeding with caution.
Viggo waited, breathing controlled and silent, his muscles coiled like springs.
A cloaked figure paused at the entrance, slender form silhouetted against the meagre light from the street.There was something distinctly unnatural about its movements.
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