Starsinger

Fire and Stone

The sparse branches of the twisting copper tree didn't provide much shelter from the ocean chill, but under cover of night, it was as good a hiding place as any.

The fresh scar tissue on his left arm throbbed and Aaron shifted position. The tree swayed unnervingly. In the dark he could just make out the sharp spires of Isaiah Mori's gate. He'd been careful not to attract the attention of the guards as he'd made his climb into the tree. One of them shivered as a cold breeze blew off the shore. The other took a swig of something stashed in his pocket.

But Aaron wasn't here to spy on the guards. Instead he snapped his scope into place, flicking lenses until he'd reached maximum magnification. He trained his gaze in the direction of Easthold, waiting, watching the slick of moonlight on curved stone roofs.

It was nervewracking. Aaron kept himself from worrying by picturing their success: Jace, Neal and Matty, slinking through the dark streets of Prudence, unnoticed. The adrenaline as they neared their targets. The sharp tang of oil and powder as they carefully unwrapped the bundles Raelyn had rigged together.

At least they'd left Raelyn behind. She'd be safe on the Drake, no matter what happened tonight.

A muted boom. Did Aaron imagine it? A few more trailed after it, softer and louder and softer, as Neal triggered the fire spells he'd laced in each bundle. Orange glows pricked across the Prudence skyline while the flames licked up the sides of Isaiah Mori's many haunts.

Decoys. They hadn't had the firepower to set all the fence's stashes and warehouses ablaze, but enough to make it look like the actions of a competing rogue, a jealous fence seeking to undercut Mori's business and vye for dominance. Enough to disguise their true target.

Aaron waited until the flames had risen high over Easthold. He imagined the roof of the makeshift prison collapsing, the obsidian bars of the cells heating and melting in the inferno, the remnants of that sour stench of human misery consumed by smoke.

He whistled sharply and signaled to a thick copse of bushes across the road.

Delia rushed out of the shadows towards the guards. "Send help!" she cried. "There's been an explosion."

The guards started, interrogating Delia only briefly before one of them ran inside to report the news. Delia leaned against the gates, feigning exhaustion. Aaron flicked a few of the lenses back on his scope and counted the seconds.

Shouts from inside the complex. Guards came streaming out the gate, heading for the sites of the fires. Aaron ticked them off one by one. More runners came to report more fires, and a fresh wave of reinforcements left the fortress, servants running side by side with guards. A moment later another handful burst from the mansion and headed for the eastern shore.

Twenty-two guards, sixteen servants. Leaving only a skeleton crew inside, and a lone soldier at the gates. Delia's eyes were trained on Aaron's tree. He signaled again.

"Sir," Delia gasped, and the guard's head swiveled towards her. "Sir, there's one more thing."

"Yes?" the man said nervously.

"Stay still."

Sapphire's hand clapped around the guard's mouth just as her knee drove into his side. He crumpled with a whimper and the scout yanked his hands back, pinning them down while she gagged him. When he started to struggle, she hit him in the temple with the hilt of her dagger. He went still. She yanked off his jacket and lashed his wrists together, then heaved him into the thicket where she'd been hiding.

"Efficient," Katrina commented, materializing from the shadows. "I'll make proper rogues of you all yet."

Aaron dropped down from the tree. "I thought you were freelancers."