Page 74 of Splintered Shadow
Pitch very much agreed. She sent a strong impression of snapping twigs in her beak.
They found guards, palace staff, civilians, and anyone else unable to flee, detained on the lower levels. No captors, though. The second team handled releasing the prisoners and seeing them safely out.
Vekele’s team continued upward.
“The king is in the tower,” a guard reported, eyes fixed on his screen.
On the ground floor, they passed signs of battle: soot on the walls and blood on the floor. Bullets riddled the walls. Furnishings had been overturned and broken. Debris littered the floors. An emergency alert played on repeat, filling every screen and speaker. The sound of three distinctive notes, followed by the flat drone of the computer-generated voice, echoed down the halls.
“Turn off the alert,” Vekele ordered. The beginnings of a headache formed behind his eyes. Yesterday had been taxing, and the droning alert felt like a needle poking at him.
“Sir,” Luca said, rushing to the nearest terminal. In short order, the alert ceased.
Silence fell.
The wrongness of the situation only increased. Beyond the destruction, the ground floor was empty. Not a soul.
As were the first and second floors. The same pattern emerged: signs of conflict between the royal guards and the traitors. Blood stained the floors, yet there were no bodies. Vekele wondered if the casualties had been locked in a cold storage room or if the conspirators had done the decent thing and evacuated the injured for medical care.
Mostly, he worried about what Baris conceded to get medical care for the injured.
“I do not like this,” he muttered. Pitch scouted ahead, finding nothing but empty corridors and vacant rooms.
The palace had always been a hive of activity. Vekele disliked the constant noise of footfalls, opening doors, and the whispers of conversation. There was no solitude to be found. Even in the relative sanctuary of his private quarters, attendants pestered him for the most inconsequential reasons. It was impossible to be alone in the palace…
Where was everyone? The further they went, the more Vekele grew certain that he had fallen for a misdirection.
They reached the tower and the king’s quarters with no complication. Doors unlocked at Luca’s command. No major hindrances, but enough of a delay to prevent him from strolling casually through the empty palace.
Yes, this was a misdirection. The final room proved it.
After the guards forced the door open, Vekele strode into the king’s private quarters. Empty.
“The king’s signature is here,” Luca said, eyes fixed on a handheld screen.
The source of the signal was apparent. Left on a neatly folded handkerchief, sitting on a table like an offering, rested a severed thumb.
Sarah
Waiting sucked balls. Yes, Sarah understood she wasn’t a badass, fighty-type person with hands that were registered as deadly weapons. She couldn’t help and would only get in the way or get herself killed. Fine. But sitting around with nothing to occupy her thoughts blew. Her mind kept creating scenarios of all the ways the rescue mission would go wrong.
Bombs. Bullets. Bears. Other bad things that started with B. Look, panic was doing all the thinking for her now and her panicky brain wasn’t logical. There could be bears.
The farther the teams infiltrated the palace without resistance, the more convinced that a massive bear trap waited at the end as a final boss fight.
Ghost climbed into Sarah’s lap, nosing at her hand.
“You’re almost too big for this,” she said, knowing full well that Ghost could be enormous, but she’d happily let him crush her lap. She stroked his fur, scratching behind his ears, and booping his nose. Satisfaction came through their bond.
“That is disturbing,” Kenth said.
“He likes it.” She touched his nose with a finger. “Boop.”
“He is growling.”
“Happy growling. He likes getting his boop button booped.” She touched his nose again. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.
“Check the feeds,” Kenth said, turning her attention back to the mission.
