Page 120 of The Turncoat King
She tried to lift it, but it was too heavy and she was too afraid of knocking the glass canisters together or dropping the box.
She turned in a circle, looking for inspiration, and ran at the closest tree, jumping up to grab a leafy branch, and ripping it off the main trunk.
It wasn’t much, but it just needed to obscure.
She didn’t know if it was even necessary. It was possible her working would hide the crate even if it were out on the plains in full sunlight, but she wasn’t prepared to take that chance.
They were planning to come back and find a way to destroy all the flares, but right now they just needed to hide them and keep them out of Kassian hands.
She tied the long strip of fabric she’d embroidered with invisibility to the box and arranged the branch on top, then ran back toward the trail. She felt lightheaded by the time she reached the bottom and stood, head bent over her knees, to get herself together.
“You sure you saw someone come this way?”
“Yes.”
Ava slowly raised her head, grateful beyond words she’d decided to put her scarf back on.
Her cloak hadn’t warned her of the small group’s approach, but then, they couldn’t mean her harm if they didn’t know she existed.
Her old cloak would have alerted her, though.
She knew it.
And there was nothing she could do about it, so she focused on what she could do.
Five soldiers moved in single file up the narrow path to the hilltop, and Ava stepped out of the way to let them pass.
They had their weapons drawn, and they were dressed in the brown and gray of scouting parties, not the more formal uniform of the Kassian soldiers.
This must be the four scouts Deni had checked out earlier, and the fifth soldier who’d sent up the cry of alarm.
Ava followed behind the last in line, and then kicked the back of his knee.
He went down, hands splayed out to stop himself, and she threw a piece of fabric in front of him.
“You all right, Rogers?” The scout in front of him turned to look.
“Just tripped.” Rogers stood, holding the small square in his hand.
“It’s not good, is it, Rogers? Guarding flare cannons?” Ava asked from behind him.
He stopped, turned to look, and frowned.
“I’m here, you just can’t see me. You have to be sick to your stomach at the thought of it. Of burning all those people.” She had found most of the soldiers at the cannon nests had needed almost no persuasion to leave their posts. Maybe it was the havoc she had already sown by leaving her little surprises behind, or maybe they truly did have a conscience.
She had started working a compulsion to leave the hills into the fabric she had left for them to find, and ended up not having to talk to them at all after the third nest.
“Like how I feel about it would make any difference.” Rogers scoffed. “At least I don’t have to fire the things.”
“You could stop it. Youshouldstop it.”
“How?” He started to scramble up a steep section of path, and Ava realized she was in danger of falling behind.
“Run home.” She could get him to kill some of the others, but she didn’t want to do that. It was easier to just make them run away.
“Now?”
“Now. And when you get home, you should throw that square of fabric in the fire.” It was her last one, as it happened.
