The inside of the storehouse was a mess. It looked like they’d taken half of what had been carefully arranged in Raskos’ warehouse and simply dumped it in a pile. Precious arcana was mounded in with worthless junk, bits and pieces of the ancient Chosen Empire and the ghouls all jumbled together. Kit gave a heartfelt sigh at the sight of it, and even Gyre felt a twinge. If Yora could have gotten to this, we’d all have been set for life.

“You find the Analytica; I’ll move the bodies,” Gyre said. “Hurry.”

Kit nodded and dashed into the mess, shaking a glowstone and filling the building with blue light. Gyre grabbed one of the corpses under the arms and pulled it inside, trying not to cover himself in blood. If anyone wandered by, missing guards might attract attention, but dead ones certainly would, and he figured it was better to get them out of sight. He’d shifted three of them and gone back for the sergeant when movement from the direction of the palace caught his eye.

“Shit.” Gyre ducked into the shadow of the hedge and hissed into the storehouse. “Kit! Legionaries coming!”

“Coming here?” Kit called back.

“Not sure.”

Gyre watched the pair of white-armored figures moving down the garden path. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry, as they might have been if they’d heard the fight. No way they caught that with everyone shouting from the explosion. Which meant these two weren’t necessarily heading their way …

Come on, plague it, go somewhere else. His urgent wish went unanswered, and the two Legionaries kept coming. Someone must have ordered them to make sure this part of the gardens is secure.

“Kit?” Gyre said. “Tell me you found it.”

“Not yet,” Kit said. “Do you know how much stuff is in here?”

Ah, fucking plaguefire. The Legionaries were moments from turning the corner. Gyre put his hand on his sword and tried not to think about what happened the last time he took on one of the Republic’s elites. No other options. Naumoriel, I hope all this works …

He stepped out from behind the hedge, crossbow first, and fired. The bolt hit the leading Legionary in the chest plate, glanced off his unmetal armor, and whined away. It had the effect of staggering him for a moment, which gave Gyre a chance to engage the second soldier alone. He tossed the crossbow away, drew his silvery ghoul-made sword, and forced his mind down the channels Naumoriel had taught him.