Page 19 of The Hawk and the Nightingale

“Oh, I made some flyers,” Peter said, then he withdrew one from his leather portfolio. It was an image of the interior of the club, with spotlights trained on an empty stage. Across the top of the flyer was the announcement “The Nightingale Sings: One Night Only”.

“I’m going to sing?” Amalie asked.

“I believe your voice will be the perfect lure,” Peter replied. “According to Hawk—well, according to nearly everyone in Old Town—your voice is legendary. We can route the sound from the microphone to the outdoor speakers, so anyone passing by will hear you. My theory is that your, um, enemy will recognize your voice, and send his soldiers in after you.”

“When they’re inside, I will lock the doors and bang!” Henri said. “Up go the lights.”

“Lights?” Amalie asked, her gaze darting between the manager and bouncer. “What will a few lights do?”

“The stage lights are quite hot,” Peter said. “If the soldiers are newly turned, as Hawk suggested they are, the lights should be hot enough to burn them, or at least disorient them long enough for us to come up with another plan.”

“And then what?” Iveta asked.

Peter blinked. “What, what?”

“After you have a club full of burned and disoriented vampires, then what?” Iveta pressed. “Are you going to dump oil on them, fry them up like chicken cutlets? Or just leave them in here, screaming and stinking and planning how to murder you?”

“W-We thought they would burn down to ashes,” Peter said. Iveta began to argue, but Amalie held up her hand.

“They won’t die,” Amalie told them. “At least, not that way. I understand what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it. Truly, I do; it’s been so long since anyone other than Iveta wanted to help me, I’d almost forgotten how good it feels. Thank you, each of you.” Hawk reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“While the lights won’t kill them, the younglings will be gravely injured,” she continued. “It will give Iveta enough time to alert the rest of my people, and get them to safety.”

“I am not leaving you!” Iveta made a cutting motion with her hand. “No!”

“You are the only one who can get to them in time,” Amalie said. “Even I’m not as fast as you. You’re their only hope.”

Iveta looked away. “And, then what? We will relocate somewhere new while you sacrifice yourself to Marek?”

“No,” Hawk said, his voice booming in the near-empty club. “If the heat from the lights won’t kill Marek’s soldiers, what will?”

“Not much,” Amalie said. “Even the newly made are strong. Fire will kill them, decapitation—“

“Sounds messy,” Peter said.

Amalie nodded. “Yes. Quite messy.”

“Starvation,” Iveta said. “If they’re already weak from the hot lights, lock them in. Without any nourishment, they’ll turn on each other.”

“How long will it take them to die?” Hawk asked.

“Depends on how many there are,” Iveta said with a shrug. “Five will decimate each other in a day, maybe two. More will last longer.”

“How long would, say, two dozen last?” Hawk pressed.

“A week, perhaps.”

“How long would you last, locked in with two dozen starving vampires?” Henri asked. “Would you survive for an entire week?”

Iveta looked him dead in the eye. “I would kill them all, and use their bones to dig my way to freedom.”

“She’s done it before,” Amalie said. “Henri, you and Peter should go with Iveta. You’ll be safer with her and the rest of my people. You too, Hawk.”

They both looked to Hawk. “Amalie is right,” Hawk said. “You two should go.”

“And you,” Amalie said, but he shook his head.

“You need me here,” he said. “Do you know how to work the sound equipment? Or where the controls are for the lights? No, you don’t.”

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