Chapter 25

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

Ezra tapped her fingers against her journal, fighting temptation. She had been contemplating writing to Zahir all afternoon. She missed him and didn’t know how to deal with the feeling. She didn’t like hiding things from him either, but she knew he would try to stop her.

Maybe you should be stopped, the voice of reason tried to tell her. Using yourself as bait was never a good idea. It was just the only idea she had.

Ezra wasn’t the type to let anyone swoop in and solve all of her problems for her, no matter how tempting it was. She had been in a melancholy mood since seeing Stella, and she didn’t like the twinge of heartache that had crept in after their conversation.

Ezra didn’t like many people, but she liked Zahir. Possibly more than liked if she felt like being honest with herself. She was comfortable with him like she hadn’t been with any other lover. She couldn’t love him. It was too impossible. Besides, she barely knew him.

You’re smarter than this, Ezra, she scolded herself. You can never belong in his world. You are not djinn.

It didn’t matter she liked the other djinn too. She didn’t feel so out of place with the magic she kept locked up. It settled in their presence instead of being on guard like it was with the other human mages and sorcerers. None of it made any sense.

The only person she knew that had similar abilities to her had been her mother. Her gift wasn’t as powerful as Ezra’s, so she pushed her daughter hard. To get a simple ’well done’ from her had made Ezra feel unstoppable. Ezra would never forget how Lucia shone with happiness whenever she used her magic. She would get a glow about her that made you unable to look away. Ezra never had that talent, but she loved magic more than anything.

Perhaps all of the magic and history he represented was the reason she was helplessly drawn to the Djinn King, no matter how disastrous it would be to her heart.

The afternoon sun was staining the sky the color of old blood when a heavy knock rattled her front door. Ezra took a look through the peephole and grabbed her satchel bag. The pale-haired mage was waiting for her and smiled like a snake when she opened the door.

"It would seem that your magic checks out. Zachariah has asked you to inspect the golems this evening," he replied. His blue eyes looked at her bag. "That’s all you need?"

"Yes. I have my tools and papers ready to go," Ezra replied too brightly. She hated the idea of going anywhere with the creep. She took a deep breath and locked the front door before stepping out of the safety of her wards.

Something flashed in the corner of her eye, and Ezra spotted Stella in the restaurant across the square drinking espresso. It made Ezra feel a little better knowing that the Raven had her back. She saw the djinn at her jewelry store frown and take a step in her direction. Shit. She couldn’t have her reporting back to Zahir.

"Lead the way… Sorry, I don’t know your name," Ezra said.

"Vladek. You can call me Vlad," the mage replied, giving her a smile. Ezra followed him, her fingers sketching a sigil behind her back. It shot straight at the djinn, colliding with her chest in a small starburst.

That will keep her busy for a while.

Vladek was talking, and Ezra’s attention quickly snapped back to him. "We got off on the wrong foot, and I’m sorry for that. I really was following orders," he said like it was a valid excuse for torturing her.

Ezra’s skin crawled. She forced herself to reply. "I understand. I am being forced to go with you right now."

"The med-mages in Venice are second to none. I knew they would heal you in no time," he replied as they walked out of the square and into the narrow corridor of streets. Ezra contemplated pushing him into a canal, her back aching in memory of his ’orders.’

"Are you bound with slave bonds too?" she asked.

"I’m bound by something far worse than slave bonds." Vladek shook his head. "Honor and duty."

"I see," Ezra said and didn’t ask further questions. She wanted to kill the mage in front of her, not to get to know him.

A short walk later, they crossed a canal bridge and walked down the Fondamenta Fornasa Vecia. Ezra didn’t know what she expected for the Cabal of the Wise’s secret hideout, but it wasn’t a half boarded-up three story building with a salt stained boat shed attached to it. The bricks were bare and crumbling, and someone had spray painted a dick on the side of it.

"How glamorous," Ezra said, staring up at the building.

Vladek shrugged. "It’s better to be invisible when you are about to become traitors and sell out your government."

"Have some experience with that, do you?" Ezra asked.

Vladek laughed. "No. I love my country. It’s the Republic that breeds traitors."

The way he said ’the Republic’ with such snide derision gave his origin away. If Ezra had to guess, she would say he was Varangian. It didn’t seem right. She had never heard of any other Varangian mages except for the Wolf Mage. He had to have some big balls to come to Venice.

Ezra clutched onto the strap of her bag and looked around. She couldn’t see Stella, but hoped she wasn’t too far away. Vladek unlocked the padlock hanging on the door and pulled it open.

"Mind your step," he said and gestured for Ezra to enter. She swallowed hard and stared at the darkness.

One more night of being brave, and this could all be over, she told herself and stepped through the door. Inside smelled of warm, damp salt and musty rot. Vladek shut the door and switched on a naked bulb that hung from the ceiling. He passed her, brushing unnecessarily up against her shoulder, and she fought the urge to slap him away.

Ezra’s jaw hurt from gritting her teeth. She knew she had the power to take on the cocky mage and walk away. The more he underestimated her, the better it would be.

Vladek led her through the house where someone had knocked down part of a wall to widen a room. Her skin burned as they crossed through protection wards. She could feel them in walls and under her feet. She wasn’t sure whether it was to keep magic out of it or in.

Inside the room was a workshop with scarred benches, clay carving tools, and small wooden boxes set out neatly in rows. A large kiln was pushed up against a far wall along with another table set up with engraving tools.

Six golems stood against the wall like oversized toy soldiers in the dim light. They weren’t as well formed as the one that Zachariah had brought to her house, but that didn’t make them less effective.

"You can use the benches to set up, but I’d suggest getting started or—" he stopped mid threat as a gray heron sailed through an open window and shifted into a rail thin man.

"Vladek! We have a problem," the shifter gasped, leaning over his knees to try to catch his breath.

"Well? Spit it out, man," Vladek snarled.

"Inquisitors were seen arresting Zachariah and Giuseppe an hour ago. They were pulled from their homes and taken to the palace." The shifter’s eyes went to Ezra. "What the fuck is she doing here? We all need to leave the city! The Doge’s sorcerers will—" The man’s words choked off as Vladek slid a thin dagger into his throat. The shifter’s eyes went wide as he sank to his knees and collapsed in a growing puddle of blood. Ezra bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming. The mage pulled the blade free and wiped it on the dead man’s shirt.

"It looks as if our timeline has been moved up, signorina," he said calmly. "You had best get these golems working, for your own sake. Try not to get distracted, or you’ll end up like him."

Ezra swallowed the bile creeping up her throat and pulled out different types of paper and colored inks. The mage was watching her closely, so she went over to the golems and ran her hands over the first one. She could feel the magic infused into the clay. She hated that the project that had brought Judah and her closer together was now forever going to be tainted with all that had happened since.

Ezra took a deep, calming breath and tried to steady her fear and emotions. She wouldn’t let the vision she’d had of Zahir screaming in pain come to pass. She just needed to stay alive and co-operate long enough for Stella to send for the Inquisitors. It would be over before Zahir knew about it. He would be safe, and Ezra would be free. That’s all that mattered. She knew that Stella wouldn’t leave her hanging, so Ezra picked up a pen and got to work.