“I’m glad he’s not involved. And you should be, too. Quinn’s a valuable asset.”

“I know. I’m being...overly emotional.” I huffed. “Do you know at one time I wished I didn’t have any magic?”

“I’m sure you did. I did, too. We all have. Ask any magician and she will be able to tell you exactly when she wished to be ordinary.”

Ordinary. Could I get used to the idea of being ordinary?

“Oh no. Cut that out,” Irys admonished. “You will never be ordinary. Don’t worry, Yelena. We’ll find out what happened to you.”

* * *

“The market closes for supper time. Fisk will probably be at his guild’s headquarters,” Leif said when he joined me at the gate.

“Is he still at—”

“No. He found a more secure location.” Leif glanced around and then lowered his voice. “It’s in one of the outer southern rings.”

We headed west from the Keep’s entrance.

“Let’s take the scenic route,” Leif suggested.

Ah. Leif wanted to ensure no one followed us.

As we entered the central business district, Leif cut through a couple of alleys and zigzagged through the streets. The sunlight disappeared behind the Citadel’s walls and the lamplighters began their nightly ritual.

“Is Fisk still having trouble with that rival gang?” I asked.

“Yes. They’re bold and have been trying to put him out of business. Fisk keeps telling me he’s taking care of it, but I’ve heard many shoppers grumbling at the market stalls. Those interlopers cheat, steal and bribe merchants to give them better prices than they give Fisk’s members.”

A few people hurried past us. Probably heading home for supper. The majority of the Citadel’s citizens lived in the northwest and southwest quadrants. However, a number of warehouses had been converted into apartments, which the Keep and government workers had snapped up along with a few business owners who wished to be close to their factories.

“What a shame. That rival gang could have joined his guild and all worked together.” Why couldn’t they just leave Fisk alone and let his guild operate in peace? Was it jealousy? Greed? Spite? Hate? Probably a combination of all of them.

“I think Fisk is in over his head on this one. Maybe I could ask my brother-in-law for a little favor.”

“How can Mara’s brother, Ahir, help?” I asked.

“Not Ahir—Valek.”

“Valek isn’t your brother-in-law.”

“Why not? You’ve been together for... What? Eight million years. And he’s, like...eighty by now.”

I punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” He rubbed his biceps. “Oh, I see. He hasn’t asked you. No wonder you’re sensitive.”

“Leif,” I warned.

He ignored it. “Yes?”

I pressed my fists to my legs. “We’ve been busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Rescuing a kidnapped brother, for one.” I gave him a pointed look.

“Uh-huh. Too busy to get married. That’s a new one. Does that mean he asked—”

“Drop it.”

“Wish I could,” he muttered.

And then I understood. “Who put you up to this? Mother?”

He ducked his head. “She just wants you to be happy.”

“And why in the world would she think I’d be happier if I was married? If anything, it would make it harder to be apart from Valek.”

“Maybe she sees how happy I am and wishes the same for you.”

Oh.

“And I’ve been picking up quite a range of emotions from you, sister dear. You’re never this easy to read.” He turned to me as if he’d just figured it out.

“Wait,” I said. “We’ll discuss it with Fisk.”

By the time Leif was satisfied no one had followed us, we had looped around to the south side of the market. Glancing over his shoulder, he slipped into a narrow alley. I stayed close to him and kept my hand near the hilt of my switchblade. The alley dead-ended.

“Are you lost?” I joked.

Instead of a sarcastic retort, he gaped at me, horrified. Without thought, I yanked my weapon and triggered the blade, turning.

“No one is there, Yelena,” Leif said in a tight voice. “You just confirmed what I thought was impossible.”

I faced him. He had discovered I no longer had magic. It hadn’t taken him long. Once again, Irys’s advice about lying low rose in my mind. Smart woman. Perhaps I should listen to her.

Leif pointed to the side wall. “It’s an illusion.” He stepped right through the bricks.

Holding my hands out, I followed him. No tingle swept my arms as I entered a dark alcove. Leif rapped a series of knocks on the door and waited. A beam of light shone through a small peephole.

“Kinda late for a visit,” a voice said.

“It’s never too late to lend a helping hand,” Leif said.

The door swung wide, allowing us in.

Momentarily blinded, I stumbled over the threshold.

Fingers grasped my elbow, steadying me.

“Lovely Yelena, always a pleasure to see you,” Fisk said, releasing his grip.

My vision adjusted to the brightness. We stood in a foyer. Rooms branched out on three sides. Straight ahead, a fire burned in a small hearth. The enticing aroma of beef filled the air. Leif’s stomach grumbled.

I gazed up at Fisk. No longer a boy, he towered over me by a good eight inches. His light brown eyes matched the color of his shaggy hair. Clean-shaven and muscular, he’d filled out quite a bit since I’d seen him last. Except for the impish intelligence in his gaze, he was a far cry from the malnourished, filthy street rat he’d been when we first met.