Page 120 of An Archer's Redemption

A few quiet moments passed before one of the Constables appeared from the back of the building and walked unhurriedly toward Sheriff Cribbs and me.

“Sir, we looked through several windows. It’s only workers inside going about their routine. Nobody matching the description.”

Cribbs nodded. “All right, Sergeant. Have one of your men go inside and interview the foreman, see if anything seems amiss.”

The man snapped a nod and turned to carry out the Sheriff’s orders.

“These are some of my best men. If there was anything out of place, they would’ve noticed it. My guess is that Declan is at the right place,” Cribbs said.

“I need to warn him. Give me a moment.”

I closed my eyes.

It wasn’t necessary, but it helped me concentrate, especially with all the sounds and odors pouring out of the factory’s windows. I’d also learned over my centuries of life how a little stagecraft helped those without magic understand it better, regardless of its utility in the casting.

“Declan, she’s not here. We are on our way to you.”

Declan’s reply was immediate.“Understood. We’re outside the shop. There are civilians everywhere. This is a busy market district and a terrible place for a magical showdown. I’m not sure we can do more than observe.”

“Keep watching. I’m coming.”

I opened my eyes.

“Sheriff, we need to get over there. Declan said there are quite a few civilians around, so we might not be able to go in and confront her.”

Cribbs gripped the pommel of his sword, then released it, a nervous tick I’d noticed when we first arrived at the factory. “It would be a lot better to do this at night. We can reassess after you learn whatever is there.”

“I will Travel to him. Have your men follow as quickly as possible.” Without any additional stagecraft, I vanished.

Chapter 52

Declan

Istood by a fruit vendor’s stall across the road from the candle shop.

The shop’s wooden façade was painted dusty blue. A bright yellow sign squeaked as it swung above the door. Several artistic candles of various colors proclaimed what was sold inside.

Dozens of well-dressed men and women strolled by. Some carried shopping bags or boxes, others clasped hands or wrestled children. The road lived in a state of perpetual motion, and the mood among passersby was light. On any other day, I might’ve enjoyed sitting and watching the people pass by, but not today.

Most who strolled by glanced at one officer, then another. Smiles fell, as curiosity over the sudden concentration of Her Majesty’s Constables grew.

Atikus appeared directly behind me.

“Anything?” the Mage asked.

“Freakin’ Spirits!” I exclaimed a little too loudly, drawing a few glances from Constables and citizens alike. “Can you ring a bell or warn me with a mental whisper next time? I nearly soiled my breeches.”

Atikus chuckled, then lowered his voice. “Sorry, I thought you heard me pop up behind you. I guess Traveling makes no noise. You know, in all my years, I never thought about that.”

“Atikus, focus.” I shook my head, then looked back toward the building. “We have Constables all over the place, but there’s too much foot traffic here to do anything. They can’t even get close enough to look inside.”

“Why not? It’s a shop, isn’t it? Just go inside like you’re looking for some candles.”

I turned and stared at the Mage. “Well, I feel stupid.”

Atikus grinned and shrugged his bushy brows. “See how focused I am?”

Unable to ignore his jab, I said, “I would send you in there. Who’d suspect a frail old man?”

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