And if I’m going to survive among the vampires in Olhav, I have to prove I’m an asset rather than a liability.
Vallan did not bring us to the same safehouse as before. Evidently, they had numerous hovels staked out in different parts of the city.
As Garroway explained when we walked past the fence of the new dwelling, “We like to move around. Keeps us nimble.” He offered me one of his dashing smiles before stepping inside.
This place was much the same as the other: two stories, sparse, with a few chests and accoutrements the other lacked. I quickly understood Vallan had chosen this location because it housed supplies he needed.
After entering the house, he tossed the heavy sack of silver into a corner of the room, grabbed some things from a chest, and sat down at the table on the first floor.
I had no idea what he was doing with his gloved hands. Curiosity got the better of me and I glanced over his shoulder to see what he was working on.
He had set out a few vials with some dark powder in them, a strip of leather that looked perfect for choking someone with, some strings of fabric, and some other bits and bobs I didn’t recognize.
While Vallan tinkered, I rested on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “How will Skar know where to find us?” I asked aloud to anyone who might answer.
Glancing sideways, I noticed a smirk on Garroway’s face. His expression made me realize I had inadvertently shortened Skartovius Ashfen’s name like these two did.
My face flamed red.
“He knows,” Garroway replied.
I rolled my eyes.More mysteries. Of course.
Vallan toiled at his work station for over an hour in silence. He sat hunched over, looking comical with his massive form stooped over in the little chair. The only illumination he had was moonlight seeping through the window above the table.
He was clearly in a surly mood—or perhaps that was his usual demeanor—so I stayed quiet and didn’t ask anymore questions.What’s the point, when I know he won’t answer?
Finally, he let out one of his customary grunts and turned, sliding his creation across the table to Garroway. “Here. They’re ready.”
I sat up, feeling oddly excited. The thing Vallan built looked foreign to me: A ball wrapped in string, with a tail at the end. There were five of them.
Garroway hesitated at the edge of the table, glancing down at the balls. “They won’t ex—”
“Grab pots,” Vallan cut in, pointing to a dresser in a corner of the room.
After Garroway retrieved five small clay pots, Vallan very carefully stuffed the creations into them. “There. Keep the fuse outside the pots. Don’t want them getting tangled with the bulb.”
Fuse?“What are those?” I was unable to hold my curiosity at bay any longer.
“Firebombs,” he answered simply.
I reeled. “Bombs?”
“Things that go boom, silverblood.”
“Yes, I know what a bomb is. Um,why?” Before he could give me another dead-eyed stare, I held my hand up. “Wait, let me guess.The cause.”
A hint of a smile curled the corner of his lip behind his beard. “Cute.”
I stood, walked over to the table, and put my hands on my hips. “Silver thief. Explosive-maker. What other interesting things do you do, Vallan Stellos?”
“Stay long enough and you might find out.”
Vallan stood, stretching and cracking his shoulders and back with loud snaps. He seemed in a better mood now that he’d gotten the bomb-making out of the way without killing all of us. Or perhaps he was mollified by getting his thoughts about me off his chest.
“You are a burden to our cause. You will only get in the way.”
“Our resident barbarian is a man of many talents, little honey badger,” Garroway said with lifted eyebrows.
