Synnr's Hope - Kate Rudolph Page 0,69

too extreme.

The papers she’d recovered from the academy didn’t have a handy map with the bomb’s location marked with an X, but there was a detailed drawing of the city center. That was where they headed, and they were met there by Emily, Oz, Grace, Crowze, Ax, and Jori, who all had already been briefed about the mission.

Lena thought she saw a look pass between Grace and Crowze. A look-look, not just a glance, but she turned away for a moment and by the time she looked back, they were all business. Was something going on there? She’d thought Grace and Zac had a thing going on. Or Zac and Crowze. Some variation. It didn’t matter, though; they had a bomb to find, and she wasn’t going to waste time worrying about other people’s potential romantic entanglements.

The city center wasn’t large, and they all split into groups of twos to try and find the bomb. Lena wanted to sprint through their section, to get done as fast as she could to prove that the people here were safe.

They had to move methodically, checking every shop and stall, giving every house and apartment as thorough an inspection as possible. Lena thought she found something in a stall selling electronic games and devices, but it turned out to be nothing and she wasted three minutes. The next red flag came from Solan, who found an Apsyn sitting outside a café and reading a book. But the Apsyn lived in Osais and was studying at the university; he was no infiltrator.

She had thought the central city was small, but every step she took made it seem like it was growing by the second. This was a nightmare. She hoped the Apsyn had sent them on a wild goose chase, that there was no bomb, and no one in danger. But he had been way too confident for that to be true.

People were starting to get suspicious, looking at her and Solan and then quickly gathering their belongings and moving away. Rumors were going to start, and murmurs led to panic. Someone needed to manage the public. And if there really was a bomb, they needed to evacuate the area. Soon.

But that wasn’t Lena’s job, and she wasn’t worried about stoking the citizens. She was worried about protecting.

“Where the fuck is it?” She was frustrated, and it was obvious in every word.

Solan gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “If there’s something to find, we’ll find it.”

That had to be true.

An abandoned shopping stall caught her attention. It was full of little knickknacks made of metal and wood, things that would be thrown far in the events of an explosion. Shrapnel. Where was the vendor? Why had he left everything unattended?

She stepped close, but was cautious in her movements. She didn’t know if there was a motion sensor or timer or bomb at all. But each step made her more suspicious. If there was a bomb, this was the place to set it. They were close enough to the building behind it to do major structural damage, and right in the middle of the central street. It would be a massacre.

“Whose stall is this?” She didn’t ask anyone in particular, but repeated the question when she saw a vendor two stalls down.

He shrugged and shook his head. “That one’s new, I don’t know him.”

Lena waved Solan over. This was it. It had to be here. “Call it in. I’m going to check it out.”

“Wings out,” he cautioned. “Be careful.”

Right. Wings. She didn’t need a bomb defusing suit, she had magic powers. She called on her spark and unleashed her wings, wrapping the energy around herself and walking towards the stall. She would be safe—well, safer—but it would do nothing to protect anyone around her. Could she use her spark to shield the blast? Sort of like throwing herself over a grenade? She didn’t know; she didn’t want to find out.

She examined the stall, looking under the table and all around it. At first, a small metal box caught her attention. It didn’t look like it could do much damage, but she didn’t know how sophisticated Zulir bombs were. Wrapping her wings even tighter, she flipped open the lid and flinched.

Okay, that wasn’t a bomb. Not unless a bomb suddenly looked like a cooler full of food.

“What in Brazon’s name are you doing here?” demanded a young Synnr with bright green hair and a tattoo on his neck. “This is my stall. Are you stealing from