Darkness handed the animal to one of his minions, who made it vanish into a black sack he then tucked in his pocket. Lift was certain that the viziers—standing in an outraged cluster at the table—hadn’t seen any of this, not with Darkness’s back to them and the two minions crowding around.
“Keep all spheres from her,” Darkness said. “She must not be allowed to Invest.”
Lift felt terror, panicked in a way she hadn’t known for years, ever since her days in Rall Elorim. She struggled, thrashing, biting at the hand that held her. Darkness didn’t even grunt. He hauled her to her feet, and another minion took her by the arms, wrenching them backward until she gasped at the pain.
No. She’d freed herself! She couldn’t be taken like this. Wyndle continued to spin around her on the ground, distressed. He was a good type, for a Voidbringer.
Darkness turned to the viziers. “I will trouble you no further.”
“Mistress!” Wyndle said. “Here!”
The half-eaten roll lay on the floor. She’d dropped it when the cudgel hit. Wyndle ran into it, but he couldn’t do anything more than make it wobble. Lift thrashed, trying to pull free, but without that storm inside of her, she was just a child in the grip of a trained soldier.
“I am highly disturbed by the nature of this incursion, constable,” the lead vizier said, shuffling through the stack of papers that Darkness had dropped. “Your paperwork is in order, and I see you even included a plea—granted by the arbiters—to search the palace itself for this urchin. Surely you did not need to disturb a holy conclave. For a common thief, no less.”
“Justice waits upon no man or woman,” Darkness said, completely calm. “And this thief is anything but common. With your leave, we will cease disturbing you.”
He didn’t seem to care if they gave him leave or not. He strode toward the door, and his minion pulled Lift along after. She got her foot out to the roll, but only managed to kick it forward, under the long table by the viziers.
“This is a leave of execution,” the vizier said with surprise, holding up the last sheet in the stack. “You will kill the child? For mere thievery?”
Kill? No. No!
“That, in addition to trespassing in the Prime’s palace,” Darkness said, reaching the door. “And for interrupting a holy conclave in session.”
The vizier met his gaze. She held it, then wilted. “I…” she said. “Ah, of course… er… constable.”
Darkness turned from her and pulled open the door. The vizier set one hand on the table and raised her other hand to her head.
The minion dragged Lift up to the door.
“Mistress!” Wyndle said, twisting up nearby. “Oh… oh dear. There is something very wrong with that man! He is not right, not right at all. You must use your powers.”
“Trying,” Lift said, grunting.
“You’ve let yourself grow too thin,” Wyndle said. “Not good. You always use up the excess… Low body fat… That might be the problem. I don’t know how this works!”
Darkness hesitated beside the door and looked at the low-hanging chandeliers in the hallway beyond, with their mirrors and sparkling gemstones. He raised his hand and gestured. The minion not holding Lift moved out into the hallway and found the chandelier ropes. He unwound those and pulled, raising the chandeliers.
Lift tried to summon her awesomeness. Just a little more. She just needed a little.
Her body felt exhausted. Drained. She really had been overdoing it. She struggled, increasingly panicked. Increasingly desperate.
In the hallway, the minion tied off the chandeliers high in the air. Nearby, the vizier leader glanced from Darkness to Lift.
“Please,” Lift mouthed.
The vizier pointedly shoved the table. It clipped the elbow of the minion holding Lift. He cursed, letting go with that hand.
Lift dove for the floor, ripping out of his grip. She squirmed forward, getting underneath the table.
The minion seized her by the ankles.
“What was that?” Darkness asked, his voice cold, emotionless.
“I slipped,” the vizier said.
“Watch yourself.”
“Is that a threat, constable? I am beyond your reach.”
“Nobody is beyond my reach.” Still no emotion.
Lift thrashed underneath the table, kicking at the minion. He cursed softly and hauled Lift out by her legs, then pulled her to her feet. Darkness watched, face emotionless.
She met his gaze, eye to eye, a half-eaten roll in her mouth. She stared him down, chewing quickly and swallowing.
For once, he showed an emotion. Bafflement. “All that,” he said, “for a roll?”
Lift said nothing.
Come on…
They walked her down the hallway, then around the corner. One of the minions ran ahead and purposefully removed the spheres from the lamps on the walls. Were they robbing the place? No, after she passed, the minion ran back and restored the spheres.
Come on…
They passed a palace guard in the larger hallway beyond. He noted something about Darkness—perhaps that rope tied around his upper arm, which was threaded with an Azish sequence of colors—and saluted. “Constable, sir? You found another one?”
Darkness stopped, looking as the guard opened the door beside him. Inside, Gawx sat on a chair, slumped between two other guards.
“So you did have accomplices!” shouted one of the guards in the room. He slapped Gawx across the face.
Wyndle gasped from just behind her. “That was certainly uncalled for!”
Come on…
“This one is not your concern,” Darkness said to the guards, waiting as one of his minions did the strange gemstone-moving sequence. Why did they worry about that?
Something stirred inside of Lift. Like the little swirls of wind at the advent of a storm.
Darkness looked at her with a sharp motion. “Something is—”
Awesomeness returned.
Lift became Slick, every part of her but her feet and the palms of her hands. She yanked her arm—it slipped from the minion’s fingers—then kicked herself forward and fell to her knees, sliding under Darkness’s hand as he reached for her.
Wyndle let out a whoop, zipping along beside her as she began slapping the floor like she was swimming, using each swing of her arms to push herself forward. She skimmed the floor of the palace hallway, knees sliding across it as if it were greased.
The posture wasn’t particularly dignified. Dignity was for rich folk who had time to make up games to play with one another.
She got going real fast real quick—so fast it was hard to control herself as she relaxed her awesomeness and tried to leap to her feet. She crashed into the wall at the end of the hallway instead, a sprawling heap of limbs.
She came out of it with a grin. That had gone way better than the last few times she’d tried this. Her first attempt had been super embarrassing. She’d been so Slick, she hadn’t even been able to stay on her knees.
“Lift!” Wyndle said. “Behind.”
She glanced down the hallway. She could swear he was glowing faintly, and he was certainly running too quickly.
Darkness was awesome too.
“That is not fair!” Lift shouted, scrambling to her feet and dashing down a side hallway—the way she’d come when sneaking with Gawx. Her body had already started to feel tired again. One roll didn’t get it far.