The Confectioner's Guild, page 32
Wren looked around desperately for a weapon, wishing she had a blade herself. Not that she was much of a fighter. The teetering pile of packing crates was the only thing she could see that might be remotely helpful.
“We found him first,” the man said, his voice low and velvety. In the dim light of the alley, Wren could see little, except his build. He was a tall man, muscular and trim. He looked like he would break Callidus across his knee.
The man dove for Callidus with a wicked slash of his blade. Callidus leaped back to miss the swipe, almost running into Wren. She scrambled out of the way, pressing herself against the rough brick of the wall, her heart hammering in her throat.
Callidus and the man in black exchanged a few more faints and attacks, Callidus miraculously managing to avoid being split open on the man’s glinting blade. But Wren could see that it was only a matter of time. Where their attacker’s movements were slow and controlled, Callidus’s slashes were wild and panicked. The man was toying with him. It was only a matter of time before the tables turned. Deeper into the alley the other man had Thom forced to his knees and was binding his hands behind his back. In a moment, Thom would be dealt with and the other man would be free to join his friend in dispatching her and Callidus. She had to do something. But what?
Letting instinct move her, Wren let out her most blood curdling scream, the sound piercing and shrill. It distracted Callidus’s attacker for a split second, and Callidus dove, scoring a cut on the man’s bicep. He stumbled back with a curse. Wren grabbed onto the wooden slats of the packing crates and heaved with all her might, the rough wood digging splinters into her fingers. Her effort was enough to tilt the pile, and with a crash, the crates toppled onto the man fighting Callidus. One of the stray crates tumbled into Callidus, knocking him to the ground as well.
“Callidus,” Wren cried, running towards him. Oh, gods. Was he all right? She had made it two steps when a rough hand tangled in her hair, yanking her backwards. She gasped at the razor-sharp pain, reeling as the other attacker slammed her against the brick wall, one hand in her hair, the other taking her by the chin and pinning her to the wall.
Her thoughts guttered like a candle as fear and pain overtook her. The man’s hooded face loomed in her vision, only his green eyes visible, narrowed and angry. “You’ll pay for that,” he spat, and a whimper escaped her, the sound pathetic and mewling in her own ears.
Out of nowhere, Thom barreled into the man with a tackle, sending them all crashing to the hard cobblestones in a jumbled pile of limbs and bodies. Wren landed on top of the man with the hood, and scrambled to push off him. As he reached to grab her again, she did the only thing she could think of, kneeing him in the groin with all her strength. He let out a garbled scream of pain, curling in on himself. Wren saw, in that moment, that the man had only four fingers on his right hand—his middle finger was missing completely. The thought fled then as shouts sounded from up the street. Thank the Beekeeper. The Cedar Guard were coming. Wren stumbled to her feet, pulling Thom out from under the man, who was rising with a curse. The man who had faced off with Callidus had crawled out from under the crates, knuckles scraped and bloody.
The two masked men exchanged the briefest of looks before turning and running into the darkness.
“Are you all right?” Wren asked Thom, who was leaning precariously against the wall, his hands still tied behind his back.
He nodded. “You?”
She nodded back. “Callidus,” she took a few shaky steps, but he was rising, four Cedar Guardsman silhouetted behind him.
“What’s going on?” The first guard asked, the silver buttons on his uniform gleaming.
“They went that way,” Callidus pointed. “Two men. Black hoods and masks covering their faces.”
The guard motioned two of his men to follow, and the guards drew their swords, dashing into the night.
“Is everyone all right?” the guard asked.
Adrenaline still surged through Wren’s body, setting her limbs buzzing like bees. “I think so.”
Callidus nodded.
“I wouldn’t mind being untied,” Thom said.
The Cedar Guardsman—a Lieutenant named Bryson—sat them on the bench across from Salted Cream and questioned them for the better part of half an hour. Wren and Callidus explained how they had been walking along the lake when they had seen Thom yanked off the sidewalk, and had tried to help. No, they didn’t know each other. Yes, it was lucky they were there. No, Thom didn’t know why anyone would want to attack him. They hadn’t even gone for his wallet.
The other guardsmen came back, and reported that they hadn’t found a trace of the two men wearing black.
“Well,” Bryson said, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll see what we can uncover. We work with the Grand Inspector’s office on cases like this. Maybe they’ll be able to get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you,” Callidus said.
“I’ll have a guard escort each of you home,” Bryson announced. “Just to make sure you don’t see any more excitement tonight.”
Callidus pursed his lips, but nodded.
Wren knew why he was upset. They wouldn’t have a chance to speak with Thom alone. If anything, the strangeness of the night made it all the more important that they share the secret of the Gifting with Thom, and invite him to join them at the Guildhall where they could protect him. A Gifted confectioner was a valuable commodity. If someone else knew what Thom was—it might explain the attack. Perhaps someone else wanted Thom’s Gift for themselves. But who?
Wren racked her brain for a way to secure a meeting with Thom without raising the guards’ suspicions. She touched her scalp gingerly where the man had grabbed her. It stung something fierce, but she didn’t think he had pulled out any hair. “Join us for dinner tomorrow, Thom,” Wren offered, looking sidelong at Callidus. Come on Callidus, go with it, she prayed. “As a thank you for saving me.”
“I should be thanking you for saving me,” Thom said, dipping his head so his unruly mop of blonde hair fell over his eyes.
“Please,” Callidus said. “We’ll send an invitation with all the details. We insist.”
“Okay.” Thom nodded, giving them a shy smile.
Wren offered a reassuring smile back, relieved. She ignored the flicker of guilt that accompanied her relief. Thom had no idea what he was getting himself into with the Confectioner’s Guild. But, on the other hand, did the guild know what it was getting into with Thom? Because someone had just tried to kidnap him, and sthey had no idea whom, or why.
Claire Luana grew up reading everything she could get her hands on and writing every chance she could. Eventually, adulthood won out, and she turned her writing talents to more scholarly pursuits, going to work as a commercial litigation attorney. While continuing to practice law, Claire decided to return to her roots and try her hand once again at creative writing. She has written and published the Moonburner Cycle and the Confectioner Chronicles and is currently working on several new fantasy series. She lives in Seattle, Washington with her husband and two dogs. In her (little) remaining spare time, she loves to hike, travel, binge-watch CW shows, and of course, fall into a good book.
Connect with Claire Luana online at:
Website & Blog
Goodreads
The Moonburner Cycle
Moonburner, Book One
Sunburner, Book Two
Starburner, Book Three
Burning Fate, Prequel
Claire Luana, The Confectioner's Guild
