Page 41 of Cage of Starlight
The voices fade and re-emerge, coming closer.
“This one has fabric. You can look inside if you’d like.”
“No need. The animals are well trained.”
The grind of boots on gravel, then what Tory recognizes as the skittering of canine feet.
“Well, gentlemen.” The voices are louder, closer. Too close. “This one’s empty, as I said.”
“All right,” Ariana says. “Here goes nothing.”
Tory bears no weapon that would matter. Hasra grabs his arms and pulls him to her, heart thundering against his back.
Ariana covers the boy’s mouth and leans forward before the door opens, blinding them.
She stares straight into the eyes of the soldier holding the door. His dog erupts in snarls and scrambles up, baring its teeth.
Ariana’s father makes a distressed noise, but his face remains impassive. His eyes find Tory and widen.
“See? I told you it was empty,” Belmin says, faint. He trips to the left as the snarling dog snaps near his elbow.
“I see.” The soldier leans in.
The dog claws halfway inside, growling deep and deadly, dripping saliva.
The soldiersdo nothing.
“Ari,” a petite girl with short, spiked black hair whispers. “The dog.”
“Wyn,” Ariana echoes. “You know how I am with animals. You take care of it, if it’s bothering you so much.”
“Fine.” With a playful kiss to Ariana’s cheek, the girl she called Wyn sprints to the front, dodging the frothing dog’s teeth to lay a feather-light hand on its head.
It slumps, weak and whimpering, falling back to the ground.
“Well, then!” Ariana’s father booms, looking studiously away. “Mr. and Mrs. Rost are waiting for their lacquerware, and Yarana Vantaraspersonallyrequested three bolts of fabric for her daughter’s Dedication. I don’t want either of us to stand in the way of that.”
“Certainly not, Mr. Belmin.”
“Good! Please, gentlemen. I’ll walk you back.”
Belmin, flustered, pushes the doors closed in the wrong order. The left one creaks open a foot or so as the soldiers retreat. That was too damn close.
Tory gestures at the door. “Should I . . .?”
“I’ll get it as soon as I can feel my legs again.” Ariana slumps against the wall, the girl she called Wyn already sinking to the ground beside her. “That was a mess.”
Riese scrubs a hand down his face. “Never a dull moment with you, Ms. Belmin.”
A hand grabs the door from outside, and Ari calls, “Thanks, Dad! I would’ve got it—”
No.
Tory has a half-second advantage on everyone else, because the hand doesn’t push the door closed, it pulls it open.
And it bears a far-too-familiar white glove.
CHAPTER TEN
