Hadvarian Heist by Beth Ball

Author:Beth Ball [Ball, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781952609060
Publisher: Grove Guardian Press

Chapter 25

It was time. Marcon split away from Iellieth, his eyes creased in worry as he went in search of Kazimir, and she hid, waiting to intercept Quindythias impersonating Kazimir. Marcon had decided to ask the socialite to join him for drinks on the terrace as opposed to attempting the complicated Hadvarian jigs. Quindythias and Kazi would still be prevented from running into one another, and, as Marcon had added, “I won’t draw an undue amount of attention to myself, either.”

In some respects, the masquerade had made their plan easier, so long as Master Yugo believed in the façade. But she couldn’t dismiss the nagging tinge of worry that Kazimir and Master Yugo would find one another, completely sidestepping their scheme for getting upstairs. Iellieth shook her head, trying to imagine Quindythias’s reaction if Master Yugo passed him over for the actual Kazimir, or if Marcon accidentally tried to woo him instead of the Hadvarian. She pressed her fingers to her lips to hide a grin.

As she crept around the corner, Iellieth willed the finely dressed nobles to pay her no mind as she slipped toward the side staircase that led up to the dormitories. Quindythias’s laugh as the fake Kazimir burbled from the nearby drinks table. She needed to hurry.

Iellieth hid from sight in a dark alcove beneath the stairs. With a deep breath, she clasped her palm over the crescent moon pendant at her wrist. She searched for remnants of the spirits of nature inside the ballroom and called them to her aid. They were faint, silenced by swishing gowns and neglect, but they whispered back to her, heeded her cry. Their energy swam out of the onyx walls and flickered away from the gemstones decorating Hadvar’s nobility.

“Allow yourself to take in the fullness of the world around you,” Yvayne had advised when they practiced transforming into smaller creatures in the woods outside her home in the Frostmaw Mountains. “Recognize the breadth and depth of the life that surrounds us all, and let your own sense of self dissipate.” It hadn’t come as easily as her wolf transformations, but she eventually found the pattern and could reliably transform into a squirrel or mouse.

But this would be her first transformation in a time of great need. They didn’t have a secondary plan for if she wasn’t able to change her form. Iellieth floated the worry out to sea, picturing instead Yvayne’s smile as the druid informed her that she had managed the smaller form but had kept her hair color—a garnet squirrel.

Iellieth exhaled and willed herself to shrink, morphing her form into that of a tiny mouse.

The ballroom had been loud before, but here along the edges, the room caught all the echoes of conversation and funneled them into her large, rounded ears. A multiplicity of sounds bombarded Iellieth from her new, shrunken position. Her nose quivered, taking in the wafted aromas, the oaky wines, the crisp fruits, and the mouthwatering warmth of the bread. She could not stop

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