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Book 1: Chapter 23 - When violence buys a favor

  Zinaida thanked the sharp-eye and left. Mikhail followed, dazed, his thoughts as wild as the wind, as she dashed to the shelter of the Central Circle. The guards let them back in, and they stomped down the tunnel, both trying to coax some warmth back into their limbs.

  “What am I going to do now?” Mikhail asked.

  “All you can do,” Zinaida said. “Avoid trouble and train.”

  “But say I do stay unnoticed for two weeks, how am I supposed to stowaway on an airship?”

  “Security is pretty lax on those things. Most can’t afford good guards—or be able to find them. The Warrior Guild and Sentinels are pretty good at enticing anyone with any skill to join them.”

  “Right,” Mikhail said, pulling his mask and hood off.

  “Oh, don’t look like that,” Zinaida said, patting his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

  “How?” Mikhail asked, exasperated.

  “There is an airship heading to Katavsk, and you’re in the good graces of a few stariki. You should be fine for two weeks.”

  Unless Yefimova is suspicious and asks my father who Borislav Avilov is. Or Klara gets sick of me and tells them. Mikhail raked a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the panic churning in his gut. They reached the Central Circle and stepped into the cavern.

  “Hey!” a gruff male voice yelled from their right.

  Mikhail spun to see three stariki approaching. Three extremely sour looking stariki.

  “Oh joy,” Mikhail muttered.

  The lead starik, a heavyset man with huge sideburns, stopped a few feet from them. His two companions, a pock-faced man and a blonde woman, halted beside him. “You two are supposed to be cleaning the muck you brought inside yesterday,” Sideburns said.

  “Oh, it’s all right,” Zinaida said, a cheerful smile on her face. “We’re going back now. We were just getting too hot and needed to step outside to cool down.”

  Mikhail cringed.

  “Too hot, hey?” Sideburns said, nudging Pock-Face, who chuckled.

  Zinaida’s smile remained, but the mirth evaporated from her eyes. She sashayed up to Sideburns. She barely came up to his chin. “You want something?” Zinaida asked, her voice soft.

  Sideburns’ eyes glittered, and he licked his lips.

  Mikhail took a step forwards.

  Sideburns’ thugs circled Zinaida, cutting Mikhail off from Zinaida.

  Mikhail scowled at them but stayed put.

  “You’re right,” Sideburns said, “I do want something.”

  Zinaida traced a finger along Sideburns jawline as he continued. “We can go somewhere private to… discuss things further.”

  A slow smile spread over Sideburns face as Zinaida ran her fingers around his collar, pushing lightly on the coarse wool. Suddenly, her other hand snaked up, and she cupped her hands behind his head.

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  Mikhail watched as realisation dawned on Sideburns’ face.

  But too late.

  Zinaida yanked his head down and leapt, bringing her right knee up. With a sickening crack, her knee connected with Sideburns’ nose.

  “Argh!”

  Zinaida landed lightly as the two thugs turned on her.

  Pivoting smoothly, she wrenched Sideburns off balance and, using his own bodyweight as momentum, threw him at the thugs.

  Pock-Face and Blondie caught him and staggered.

  Mikhail stood forgotten and could only watch, mouth open, as Zinaida launched at Pock-Face and Blondie. How the depths does she move that fast without speed extract?

  Sideburns received a devastating front kick to his floating ribs and slumped, winded. Pock-Face let go, leaving Blondie to deal with Sideburns as he lunged at Zinaida, fists raised.

  The two exchanged blows, but Zinaida was too fast. Her punches snapped past Pock-Face’s defences before he could block. Then her hands were wrapped behind his head in a grappling hold. She laid into his ribs with her knee while he tried to wrestle her off.

  Blondie got Sideburns to the ground and darted forwards to aid Pock-Face.

  Zinaida swung Pock-Face around, keeping the man between her and Blondie. “A little help?” she yelled.

  Mikhail blinked and charged Blondie, who spun, her left fist extending in one fluid motion.

  It glanced off Mikhail’s chin and he staggered sideways. He lifted his fists and planted them on his cheekbones, just as his father had taught him, as he tried to shake away the stars from his vision.

  Blondie approached, fists likewise raised.

  Mikhail threw a punch at Blondie’s head, but she slipped to the side and gave him a solid blow to the gut in return. As soon as Mikhail dropped his elbows to try to protect his stomach, she straightened, and he skilfully caught her fist with his cheek.

  Blinding white light exploded in his vision and he staggered back. Everything in him screamed for him to run, to get away from the pain raining down on him as Blondie pummelled him.

  Suddenly, the blows stopped as Zinaida grabbed Blondie’s attention. A few swift punches and a well-placed roundhouse kick brought Blondie to her knees, wheezing.

  Zinaida grabbed her collar and, fist back, said, “Yield?”

  Blondie managed a nod and Zinaida let go.

  The other two lay sprawled on the stone floor, groaning.

  By some stroke of luck, no Sentinels had arrived during the fight. All five of them would have the depths to pay if a Sentinel had seen what happened.

  Zinaida grabbed Mikhail’s arm and steered him away from the disabled stariki. Her right eye showed signs of bruising, and she wiped a trace of blood from her lip as she grinned at Mikhail. “That was fun wasn’t it?”

  “That’s your idea of keeping out of trouble?” Mikhail asked, shaking his head. “They’ll come after us now. You, particularly. Aren’t you worried what they might do?”

  Zinaida laughed. “If they want their high-and-mighty-tushes handed to them on a platter again, they’re welcome to try.”

  “But—”

  Zinaida waved away his objections. “I’ll be fine. Now, I might have a solution for your little problem.”

  “What?” Mikhail asked, staring at her in surprise.

  “I know an airship captain who might be willing to… look the other way when you slip onto his ship. I can probably get word to him and get him here in a couple of days.”

  Mikhail could barely believe his ears. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Well, it’ll cost you.”

  Oh, the catch… He didn’t exactly have much to offer right now, though. “How much?”

  Zinaida eyed him. “It won’t be cheap. I’ll have to pull a few favours.”

  Mikhail nodded, his hearts sinking into his stomach. He wouldn’t be able to afford her price, would he?

  She tapped her chin with a finger. “All right. I’m thinking if you cover me for cleaning, I’ll do it.”

  Mikhail blinked. “Cover you for cleaning?”

  “Yes, cleaning. You know, what we were doing a few minutes ago? Mud, brooms, and all that?”

  “Um. Yeah, sure. I can do that. That’s all?”

  “I hate cleaning.” Zinaida shuddered. “Just ask Klara. Or not, her mood probably hasn’t improved much. Now, I’m going to go get you a ride to Katavsk, have fun with that mud!” Zinaida said, veering down a side street.

  “Hey, thanks for your help,” Mikhail called after her.

  Without breaking stride or turning, Zinaida threw up a hand in acknowledgement.

  Mikhail shook his head. Organising for an airship to fly to Borovsk, then to Katavsk, in exchange for scrubbing some mud off the floor? A huge grin split his face. Perhaps he would actually find out what happened to his mother.

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