Iris reached for the glass lantern and matchbox she had set beside the luggage, items that Tobias always carried in case of a night emergency. Which was unfolding at the moment, making Iris’s heart pound. Her fingers felt numb as she struck the flame and lit the wick, holding the lantern up so Tobias could see.
But his eyes weren’t on the car. They were fixed upon Attie, who was wringing her hands and rambling off another apology.
“I’m terribly sorry, this is all my fault, and I—”
Tobias reached out, gently taking her arm. “It’s not your fault, Attie.”
“It is. I took your attention off the road!”
An awkward silence welled between them. Iris rushed to say, “If you’re missing a tire iron, maybe I can run back to town and find one? We passed a garage right before the barricade.” In all honesty, she wanted to be back on their way as soon as possible but also give the two of them a moment alone.
“Run back to town?” Attie cried. “For gods’ sake, Iris!”
“It’s not far,” Iris insisted. “I can still see the second-story windows of a few town houses from here. You two can get the car raised with the jack, and I’ll return with the iron. Then we’ll be back on our way as if this never happened.”
Tobias was quiet, but he eventually nodded. “All right. But take the lantern. If there’s any trouble, give us a signal by blowing out the flame from one of those upper windows.”
“Of course. I’ll return in a few minutes. Don’t worry.” She took two steps and then spun back around with a grimace. “Just one last question. What exactly does a tire iron look like?”
* * *
Hawk Shire was a different town in the evening with abandoned streets.
Iris’s breath was ragged by the time she passed the barricade on the high road, her muscles burning as she eased to a stilted walk over the cobblestones. It was that eerie hour when night had almost swallowed the last threads of sunset, and shadows felt crooked and sinister. Iris startled herself a few times, searching for the garage she had seen earlier. She paused, wondering if a platoon of Enva’s soldiers had been left behind, but it was nothing but a play of the darkness and the wind, whistling through the streets.
Iris stared at the quiet town, lantern in hand.
No, she was utterly alone here, and what triumph she had tasted earlier suddenly went sour on her tongue.
Find the tire iron and get out, she told herself, at last locating the garage.
It hadn’t been boarded up like the nearby windows and doors, and she sorted through a cabinet of tools, her options sparse as she frantically examined them by firelight. None fully matched the description Tobias had given her. With a sigh of defeat, she retraced her steps down the thoroughfare until the outermost street caught her eye.
Iris decided to take it, seeking another garage.
She passed house after house, all which were boarded up, until she reached the place where the soldiers had abandoned their hammers and planks. A few homes beyond that was another garage, sitting open like a monster’s maw. Iris was approaching when she heard a noise from within the shadows. A clink of metal, like something had fallen from a shelf.
“Hello?” she called, but her voice was fragile in the sudden gust of wind. She held her lantern out stiffly, letting the firelight guide her, and it wasn’t until she was in the garage that she saw a wrench gleaming on the floor.
She studied it a moment before noting the shelves before her were empty, and there were no other tools save for this one. How odd that it had fallen the moment it did, as if desperate to catch her eye. Disquieted, Iris bent down and took the wrench in hand. It was heavy, speckled with rust. For some odd reason, it made her think of the grocer in Oath. How those enchanted shelves had known the amount of coin in her purse, easing the items she could afford to the forefront.
I’m standing on a ley line.
The realization shivered through her. A magical place to be, as well as a dangerous one. No sooner had that thought unfurled in her mind than she heard another noise. The door to her right creaked open, as if beckoning her into the adjacent house.
Iris flinched, fear coiling tight in her body. Fight or run, her heart pounded, the indecision burning through her chest. But as she continued to stare at the doorway, studying the moonlit interior of the empty house, she reached another acknowledgment.
This house is rooted in magic, and it knows what I need.
She decided to trust it, even as sweat gleamed on her skin. The magic of a quiet, abandoned house. She stepped inside, wrench gripped in one hand, lantern in the other.