Книга - Dawn Study

Dawn Study
Maria V. Snyder


New York Times bestselling author Maria V. Snyder brings her Chronicles of Ixia series to its exhilarating conclusion.Despite the odds, Yelena and Valek have forged an irrevocable bond—and a family—that transcends borders. Now, when their two homelands stand on the brink of war, they must fight with magic and cunning to thwart an Ixian plot to invade Sitia.Yelena seeks to break the hold of the insidious Theobroma that destroys a person's resistance to magical persuasion. But the Cartel is determined to keep influential citizens and Sitian diplomats in thrall—and Yelena at bay. With every bounty hunter after her, Yelena is forced to make a dangerous deal.With might and magic, Valek peels back the layers of betrayal surrounding the Commander. At its rotten core lies a powerful magician…and his latest discovery. The fate of all rests upon two unlikely weapons. One may turn the tide. The other could spell the end of everything.







New York Times bestselling author Maria V. Snyder brings her Poison Study series to its exhilarating conclusion

Despite the odds, Yelena and Valek have forged an irrevocable bond—and a family—that transcends borders. Now, when their two homelands stand on the brink of war, they must fight with magic and cunning to thwart an Ixian plot to invade Sitia.

Yelena seeks to break the hold of the insidious Theobroma that destroys a person’s resistance to magical persuasion. But the Cartel is determined to keep influential citizens and Sitian diplomats in thrall—and Yelena at bay. With every bounty hunter after her, Yelena is forced to make a dangerous deal.

With might and magic, Valek peels back the layers of betrayal surrounding the Commander. At its rotten core lies a powerful magician...and his latest discovery. The fate of all rests upon two unlikely weapons. One may turn the tide. The other could spell the end of everything.


Praise for the novels of Maria V. Snyder (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

“Poison Study is a wonderful and lively read. Highly recommended!”

—World Fantasy Award finalist Kate Elliott

“Snyder’s clear, straightforward, yet beautifully descriptive style is refreshing, while the story itself is completely engrossing.”

—RT Book Reviews on Magic Study

“Snyder delivers another excellent adventure.”

—Publishers Weekly on Fire Study

“Snyder deftly weaves information about glassblowing into her tale of magic and murder.”

—Library Journal on Storm Glass

“A compelling new fantasy series.”

—SFX magazine on Sea Glass

“Snyder’s storytelling skills continue to build an involving story line.”

—Library Journal on Spy Glass

“Filled with Snyder’s trademark sarcastic humor, fast-paced action and creepy villainy, Touch of Power is a spellbinding romantic adventure.”

—USA TODAY

“The action in this book is nonstop, with many twists and turns to keep the reader guessing about what’s in store on the next page.”

—Examiner.com (http://www.Examiner.com) on Scent of Magic

“Snyder draws us in with her excellent, efficient storytelling, amusing dialogue and distinctive characters, all set within a well-crafted plot. A delight of a read!”

—RT Book Reviews on Taste of Darkness


Dawn Study

Maria V. Snyder







Copyright (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)






An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017

Copyright © Maria V. Snyder 2017

Maria V. Snyder asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © December 2017 ISBN: 9781474060691

Version: 2018-01-23


To my husband, Rodney. You were there in the beginning when Yelena’s story was just an idea. Thank you for enduring the countless revisions, writing retreats, conferences, extended travel, bad reviews, strange visitors and the million other things that come with living with an author!


Contents

Cover (#u98ec51ec-e237-5362-a372-508c9ad4c3e4)

Back Cover Text (#u1c0d9327-8494-5e3c-aab7-127c1244c541)

Praise (#ubdaef843-9e4b-5e9d-99c0-320268c138fe)

Title Page (#u9a133170-e64f-524f-9b04-9e01f921f4b0)

Copyright (#u91770e64-2fdc-537c-819e-c35e74c58427)

Dedication (#ud3e51744-cc4f-5d0b-862b-2bc9d94738f3)

Chapter 1 (#u8f97f405-84fd-52b1-af93-6483d259d514)

Chapter 2 (#u3b7741d5-eee9-50cb-a5f0-3bf1a457b819)

Chapter 3 (#u72ca080f-1f31-5ba7-82ad-6b5e367c1948)

Chapter 4 (#ue8db9751-971e-5c84-9b59-b904b6061a3c)

Chapter 5 (#u952c0762-bdd9-5054-9998-737730ad78bd)

Chapter 6 (#u1e34d80a-98d1-5887-b6fe-caa516d1dbf5)

Chapter 7 (#ud3713548-1d21-5971-b34c-6dd00a900e2b)

Chapter 8 (#u1457572d-41b8-5313-906c-6ae7eacdf314)

Chapter 9 (#uf457257d-9924-59b9-91d7-3069b87daa53)

Chapter 10 (#uc1052145-7a92-5f76-9285-1a27ee029218)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS (#litres_trial_promo)


1 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

YELENA

I ghosted through the quiet Citadel streets well after curfew. Dressed in black from head to toe, I stayed in the shadows to avoid detection and lamented the necessity of having to skulk about like a criminal. The row of Councilors’ houses appeared to be deserted—we’d received intel that the Cartel had “relocated” the Sitian Council for their safety. Not trusting the darkened windows or the info that the houses were empty, I looped around to the back alley and waited. No signs of movement. Were the houses vacant, or did a professional ambush wait inside?

If I still had my magic, there would be no need to guess. But the baby in my belly was blocking my powers—or, at least, that was the current theory. My pulse skittered with the thought of the baby. Valek’s request that I be very careful echoed in my mind. I drew in a breath to steady my heart as I approached Councilor Bavol Zaltana’s home, located in the middle of the row.

Without the light from the street lanterns, the darkness pressed around me. A cool night breeze diluted the stink of garbage left too long in the sun. I knelt by the back door and felt for the keyhole, then inserted my tension wrench and diamond pick. Lifting the pins into alignment, I twisted the tumbler and the door swung open into the kitchen that during my previous visits had been filled with heat and light and the scent of jungle spices. Instead, a cold, quiet mustiness greeted me.

I tucked my tools away and stepped inside and to the right. Standing in the threshold, I would have been an easy target. I sniffed the air for any hint of perfume, cologne or shaving cream, or anything that would indicate another person or persons crouched in the shadows.

Only the dry scent of dust filled my nose.

That ruled out the amateurs, but I knew The Mosquito remained a threat and wouldn’t make such a rookie mistake. He’d been paid to assassinate me, and he would hunt me until he finished the job. No surprise that Valek wasn’t happy about this mission, but due to our limited resources, personnel and time, he’d conceded the need to send me here while he searched Bavol’s office in the Council Hall. Since Bruns Jewelrose and his Cartel had moved into the hall, Valek had the far more dangerous task.

We both sought any information on how Bruns’s Cartel had been able to procure enough Theobroma to lace the food at the Council Hall, the Magician’s Keep and four military garrisons. Their magicians then used magic to turn all those who consumed the sweet treat into compliant and obedient members of the Cartel.

When no obvious dangers materialized, I walked through the house, checking every corner for intruders, including the ceiling. All clear. Breathing became easier as I drew the curtains tight before concentrating on my task. Lighting a small lantern, I started in Bavol’s home office, looking in his desk drawers.

Bavol had been given the assignment of determining a way to mass-produce Theobroma for the Sitian military. Once the Council learned that the Commander had barrels of Curare, they’d panicked. Curare was an effective nonlethal weapon, causing full-body paralysis. The substance that counteracted Curare was Theobroma, which wasn’t ideal due to it rendering a person vulnerable to magic, but it was better than being paralyzed. The other problem, however, was that it only grew in the Illiais Jungle, and at a very slow rate.

Or so everyone thought.

Bruns and Owen Moon had managed to increase not only the quantity but also the growth rate, using glass hothouses and grafting techniques. But just how had they learned this technique remained a mystery.

Finished with the drawers, I moved on to Bavol’s cabinet. A couple of the files included diagrams of plants, and I stacked them next to me. The last time we visited Bavol, he’d acted...odd. Leif’s magic picked up a strange vibe from him, but we hadn’t pressed the issue. Now, with Bavol “housed” at the Greenblade garrison and unreachable, I hoped any information we found would help us determine not only where Bruns had procured the Theobroma but also how.

I collected a nice-size pile, but spent a few minutes checking the living area and his bedroom, too, just in case he had hidden files elsewhere.

Satisfied that I’d covered all possible locations, I grabbed the stack and slipped out the back door, relocking it behind me. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness as the air cooled my sweaty skin. I’d left my cloak back at HQ. It was the middle of the warm season. The night air remained a reasonable temperature a little longer each evening. And since I was three and a half months pregnant, I stayed warmer as well.

An extra-deep pool of black appeared next to me. Instinctively I dodged to the side as metal flashed, and a sharp coldness nicked the left side of my neck before striking the door behind me. I dove to the right and hit the ground with a thud. The blackness cursed and followed me. I hissed as a blade seared a path along my left bicep. I kept rolling deeper into the darkness—my only defensive play at this point. Fear pulsed, urging me to hurry.

A narrow beam of yellow light sliced through the darkness. My attacker had come prepared. Lovely. The light swept the ground, searching and then finding me. Caught in the beam long enough to be a target, I somersaulted to my feet as the thwack of a crossbow sounded. Debris pelted me when the bolt ricocheted off the ground nearby. Too close. My heart jumped in my chest. Another bolt clipped my right side, the pain a mere nuisance in the grander scheme of things.

I raced for the end of the alley, zigzagging as much as possible and hoping with all my soul that a second ambusher didn’t wait for me at the end. A third bolt sailed past. I shot from the alley and increased my pace, no longer caring about staying in the shadows. Glancing behind, I spotted a black-clad figure aiming a crossbow in my direction. Ice skittered down my sweat-soaked back. I changed course, spinning to the left just as the bolt whizzed by my ear. The air from its passage fanned my face. Not stopping to marvel at either my good luck or his lousy aim, I dove for the shadows and ran.

Hours later—or so it seemed to my starved lungs—I slowed and ducked into a dark shadow. Bending over, I gasped for breath. So much for staying in shape. Although running for your life wasn’t exactly something you could train for. Plus I’d gained a few baby pounds. The thought sent a new spike of fear right through me. I ran my fingers along the gash on my side, seeking its depth. I sighed with relief—only a flesh wound. Then I remembered my other injuries, and they flared to painful life. The one on my neck was also shallow, but the cut on my arm would need to be sealed. I sagged against the building for a moment. Not only my life but also the baby’s had been in danger.

Once I recovered, I realized I still clutched the files from Bavol’s office. I would have laughed, but the sound might have attracted the wrong attention. Dozens more soldiers had been patrolling the streets since the Cartel declared martial law and set a curfew. To avoid them, I took the most roundabout path back to HQ, ensuring no one followed me. By the time I tapped on the hidden door, the first rays of dawn lit the white marble of the Citadel.

Hilly, one of the Helper’s Guild members, let me in. She raised an eyebrow at my disheveled and bloody appearance.

“I ran into a bit of trouble,” I said.

She quirked a smile. “Not as much as when Valek returns.”

Oh no. “Did he...”

“Yep. He stopped in about an hour ago, but when he heard you hadn’t returned, he took off to look for you.”

I wilted.

Hilly took pity on me. “Come on. We’ll wake the healer and get you cleaned up before he comes back.”

I followed her through HQ. Since the building Fisk had once used to house his Helper’s Guild had been seized by the Cartel, he’d found another empty structure tucked almost out of sight in the northwest quadrant of the Citadel to use as a temporary base of operations. Now his people helped us in our efforts to stop the Cartel from taking complete control of Sitia. The so-called resistance.

Sleeping barracks occupied most of the lower level. The members of the guild spanned in age from six years old to eighteen. The kids didn’t mind the close quarters, and some happily shared a bed. The extra-large kitchen took up the rest of the level. The two upper floors contained Fisk’s room and office, a small suite for Valek and me, and a number of guest rooms for our growing army. Our farmhouse in the Stormdance lands had been a useful place to plan and recuperate during the last month, but we’d quickly learned that we needed to be closer to Bruns.

The healer was a sixteen-year-old boy named Chale who’d recently developed magical powers. Since all the magicians at the Magician’s Keep had been conscripted and sent to the Cartel’s garrisons, there had been no one to teach him how to use his power—except me and Valek. Even though I lost my powers over three months ago, I hadn’t forgotten my lessons from the Keep. Valek, on the other hand, had freed his power only recently and almost flamed out, killing us all. Now he was reluctant to use it until he learned how to fully control his powers. Not an ideal situation, but we tried.

I sat at the kitchen table in my undershirt as Chale cleaned my wounds. The gawky teen was all thumbs. He peered through a riot of black hair that my fingers itched to trim. As I suspected, the cut on my biceps needed more than just a bandage. At least talking Chale through the steps needed to heal it with his magic distracted me from the pain. As long as he didn’t touch me skin to skin, he could use threads from the power blanket to stitch the cut closed.

“I have to keep pulling power to knit the skin together,” Chale said with concern. “Something is tugging it away. Is that normal?”

“No. I think what is draining your power is what is blocking mine. At least, I hope that’s the case.”

“Is it the baby?”

I stared at him. Not many people knew.

He blushed. “Sorry, I just—”

“No, don’t apologize. You’re a healer. Sensing the baby is a part of your powers.”

“It’s healthy, if that helps?”

“It does,” Valek said from the doorway. He still wore his black skintight sneak suit, which highlighted his long, lean and powerful muscles. “Can you say the same about my wife?”

A dangerous glint lit his sapphire-blue eyes, but Chale failed to notice.

“Of course. It’s just a couple scrapes.” Chale’s light tone downplayed my injuries nicely—perhaps he’d noticed more than he let on. “We’re almost finished.”

“Good,” Valek said, but his gaze seared into mine.

And though his angular face revealed none of his thoughts, I knew he suppressed a whole gamut of emotions. In a few graceful, almost predatory strides, he was by my side. He laced his fingers in mine as Chale completed his work. Bandages were fine for the shallow cuts. I didn’t want Chale to exhaust his power on the minor abrasions—one of the guild members might need him tonight.

Valek let go of my hand as I shrugged on my torn and bloody tunic. He studied the garment without comment—another dangerous sign. But by this time, the kitchen bustled with the morning crew, and soon piping-hot sweet cakes were set in front of us. My stomach roared with sudden hunger, and even Valek wasn’t brave enough to get between a pregnant woman and food.

Only after I stuffed myself did he reclaim my hand and tug me to my feet.

“Upstairs,” he said.

Feeling much better with a full stomach, I trailed after him as we ascended the stairs to the third level and into our rooms. Valek closed the door and I braced for his lecture. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, soaking in his warmth, breathing in his musky scent, feeling safe. At six feet tall, he was eight inches taller than me.

I’d known Valek for almost nine years, and the only thing that scared him was the threat of losing me. “What happened?” I asked.

He leaned back and lightly brushed the bandage on my neck with his thumb. “I found out The Mosquito is in town.”

Ah.

“Did he attack you?” he asked.

“It was too dark to see, but the first strike was aimed at my throat.” The Mosquito’s signature way to kill was to stab an ice pick into his victims’ jugulars and let them bleed to death. Nice guy.

“Tell me what happened.”

I detailed the attack and the reason it took me so long to return. “But I managed to hold on to the files. Did you learn anything else while you were in the Council Hall?”

“I grabbed a few promising files from Bavol’s office, but I’m more concerned about what I overheard Bruns and his sycophants discussing in the hallway.”

I stepped back in alarm. “You weren’t supposed—”

“They didn’t know I was there. Besides, the information was worth the danger.”

“About The Mosquito?”

“Yes. That, and Bruns knows you’re in the Citadel. He’s offered a large bounty to the person who kills you.”

No surprise. “How much?”

“Yelena, that’s not the point.”

“It’s not the first time someone’s put a price on my head.” Master Magician Roze Featherstone had offered five golds as a reward for my capture when she tried to take over the Sitian Council seven years ago.

“This time is different. You’re...”

I waited.

“Vulnerable without your magic. And it’s no longer all business with Bruns. He took Ben’s and Loris’s deaths and our escape from the Krystal garrison personally. You need to go back to the farmhouse in the Stormdance lands. You’ll be safer there.”

“And what about you?” I asked. “As you said, our escape. Did he set a bounty for you, as well?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

Valek paced the room. I crossed my arms to keep his lingering warmth close. Plus, judging by the agitation in his steps, I sensed he was working up the nerve to deliver more bad news.

He stopped. “Bruns has offered fifty golds to the person who kills you.”

That was a fortune. I whistled, and he shot me a glare. “You didn’t answer my question,” I said.

Another scowl, and then his shoulders drooped as if in defeat. “Bruns has been in contact with Commander Ambrose, and...” Valek paused. “The Commander has agreed to send Onora to assassinate me.”


2 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

VALEK

Yelena’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, and concern flashed in her green eyes over the news. But Valek had expected something like this. If he focused on the logic, the move made perfect tactical sense. The Commander had warned Valek that leaving Ixia would be an act of treason. And acts of treason, no matter what the reason, were punishable by death. Plus, he now had magic, of all things. He’d inadvertently traded his immunity to magic for the power to wield it. And the Commander had a standing execution order on all magicians found in Ixia.

Except he and the Commander had been close friends, and he was unaware of Valek’s magic—only a handful of people knew. He’d hoped the Commander would give him the benefit of doubt and not send an assassin after him.

Yelena put her hand on his arm. “He’s being influenced by Owen’s magic.”

“We don’t know that for sure.” There had been a few inconsistencies, like when the Commander had tried to protect Valek from Owen by sending him to the coast to deal with the Storm Thieves. He was also supposed to be protected from Owen’s subversion by the null shields that Leif had woven into his uniforms, but the Commander could have lied to Valek about wearing them.

“He has to be,” she said.

He pressed his hand over hers and enjoyed not only her touch but the respite from the constant presence of his magic. With his mental shield in place, it wasn’t as bad, but contact with her turned it all off, and he returned to the man he’d been for the last forty-one years of his life.

“Are you worried about Onora?” she asked.

Was he? They had sparred a number of times, and each time he had defeated her. But perhaps she planned to ambush him. “No. She’s the best to come along in the last twenty-four years, but unless she catches me off guard, I don’t expect her to cause me any trouble.”

“And you’re never relaxed,” she teased.

“I am when I’m with you, love.” He picked up her hand and kissed her palm.

“Really? And those knives under our pillows, the swords on the floor, the darts in the headboard?”

“I said relaxed, not stupid. Being prepared is never a bad idea.”

“No.” Her gaze grew distant as she rubbed her side.

Probably remembering The Mosquito’s attack. While Valek was proud she was able to get away, he planned to ensure that would be the assassin’s last attempt on her life.

“Speaking of being prepared,” he said, “you need to leave the Citadel until I’ve taken care of any bounty hunters coming after you. Either go to the Stormdance farmhouse, or travel to the Illiais Jungle to visit your mother. Both are safer than here.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Nice try, handsome, but I’m not going anywhere. At least not until Leif and Mara return from Broken Bridge with my father, and we’ve looked over the information from Bavol’s.”

“At least promise me you’ll stay in HQ until they arrive.” He leaned close and kissed her neck, then whispered, “Do it for your handsome husband.”

Laughing, she said, “I promise to stay in bed for the rest of the morning as long as you stay with me. After that...no promises.”

“What if I give you a very good reason to stay in bed until I squash The Mosquito?”

She drew back, and desire burned in her gaze. “What’s the reason?”

“Me taking care of you until you’re out of breath and a puddle in my hands. A service I’ll be happy to perform anytime during your...bed rest.” He nibbled on her earlobe.

“Oh, my. Someone certainly has a high opinion of himself,” she teased.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Oh, yes! Show me what you can do, and I’ll consider your request.”

He grinned. “Accepted.”

Not giving her time to reply, Valek pulled her to their bedroom and made short work of her clothing. A few bloody scrapes marked her back and a number of bruises peppered her arms. Valek suppressed his fury with the knowledge that The Mosquito would soon be crushed.

Valek scooped her up and laid her on the bed, then kissed her for a long moment. She plucked at his clothing, and he grabbed her hands. “This is for you, love.”

“Exactly. Now strip.”

He peeled off the tight garment, but his gaze never left her. Once divested of his clothing, he joined her on the bed. He trailed kisses down her neck. Valek had been convinced he’d lost her when she hadn’t returned from her mission, and he planned to savor this time with her as if it were the last. His efforts left her gasping, and he gave her three very good reasons to stay in bed.

She stretched like a cat and curled up next to him. Yelena met his gaze. “You’re really worried about the bounty on me?”

Valek traced the recently healed cut along her side with a finger. Purple bruises ringed the bright red line. “I know you can handle an assassin.” He quirked a smile. “Or two, but with fifty golds at stake...a gang of wannabe bounty hunters could come after you together and split the money.”

“All right, I’ll stay in HQ until you’ve dealt with The Mosquito,” she promised.

A weight lifted from his shoulders. He pulled her close. She snuggled against him and fell asleep almost immediately. He smoothed her long black hair back from her beautiful oval face. The knowledge that he’d do anything to keep her and the baby safe comforted him, since it required no thinking, no weighing the consequences of his actions and no hesitation.

Valek had once felt the same uncomplicated feelings for the Commander, but not anymore. Even if the Commander’s behavior had been caused by Owen’s magical hold on him, Valek could no longer return to that place of blind loyalty. His new magic complicated everything, of course. However, that would just be an excuse. No. Yelena meant more to him than his own life and happiness, and much more than the Commander’s.

* * *

Valek woke a few hours later and slid from the bed without waking his wife. An automatic smile still spread over his lips every time he thought of Yelena as his wife. Not many people knew of their marriage, and even fewer were aware of the baby, but the fact that they had exchanged vows continued to thrill him, as if he’d won the biggest tournament in the entire world.

Going down one level, Valek stopped in Fisk’s office. The stark room contained a desk, a couple chairs and a table. The young leader of the Helper’s Guild bent over his desk. The fingers of his right hand ran through his light brown hair, leaving behind rows of spikes, while his left clutched a stylus. He frowned at a sheet of parchment spread over the desk.

Valek tapped on the open door, and Fisk glanced up. Dark smudges marked his light brown eyes. The poor boy appeared years older than seventeen.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Valek asked.

Fisk blinked at him. “Sleep? What’s that?”

“Not funny.”

Fisk dropped the stylus and rubbed his face. “Wish I was joking.”

“Bring me up to date, and then take a break.”

“But—”

“It’s not a request. Exhaustion will only lead to fatal mistakes. I’ll collect the information from your guild while you rest.”

He grinned. “Half of them are terrified of you and won’t report.”

“Then they can wait until you’re awake. What’s the latest intel?”

Fisk filled him in. “We think Hans Cloud Mist is a member of the Cartel. He’s been spotted at the Moon garrison twice, and we’ve confirmed Danae Bloodgood and Toki Krystal as members.”

Valek considered this for a moment. They were all influential businesspeople who thought their accumulated wealth and business acumen meant they could do a better job of running Sitia than the appointed Councilors. “I’m beginning to suspect there are eleven members, one for each clan, with Bruns designated as their leader,” he mused.

“Sounds like something they’d do to justify their actions.”

Interesting comment. “What do you mean?”

Fisk leaned back and spread his arms. “They decided that the Sitian Council was not doing a proper job of keeping Sitia safe from the Commander. Plus the Council also failed to rein in the Sitian magicians, letting them go about their business willy-nilly.”

“Willy-nilly?”

“Yeah, you know.” Waving his hands, Fisk elaborated, “Selling null shields to anyone, using their magic for selfish reasons. I think the Cartel feels they can do better than the Councilors, but they still honor the structure the clans have established long ago. So they’re not really usurping the Council—just replacing them.”

“And that helps them sleep better at night?”

“Exactly.” Fisk rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Why is identifying the other members of the Cartel so important when Bruns has brainwashed them along with everyone else? They’ve no clue that Bruns is collaborating with Owen and the Commander.”

“You tell me.”

He huffed. “I don’t know, because in order to stop the Sitian takeover, all we have to do is stop Bruns, Owen Moon and the Commander.”

Valek suppressed a smile at the “all we have to do” comment. If only it were that easy. “Why are these people members of the Cartel?”

Fisk shot him a sour expression. “Okay, I’ll play. They’re rich and powerful. Which is why the Cartel has been so successful in getting resources and converting the garrisons—Oh!”

Valek waited as Fisk followed the logic.

“So we identify them all and wake them up to what’s really going on, so they can use that influence and power to help us instead of Bruns.”

Smart boy. “Or we assassinate them all and take them out of the equation. The added benefit is that we scare their support staff.”

Instead of a knee-jerk reaction to the thought of killing ten people, Fisk paused to consider it. “Yelena would never allow that. She doesn’t want any of the brainwashed to be killed. Besides, I think they’d be more useful alive than dead.”

“And that is why we need to know their identities.”

Fisk yawned. “We’re getting reports back from the garrisons and will soon have a complete list of personnel at each one.”

“Good. I need your people to locate a bug for me.”

“The Mosquito?” He straightened in his chair, looking more awake.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Here in the Citadel.”

“Ah, hell. Is that why Yelena needed...” He stopped. “Won’t he be with Bruns?”

“From what I heard last night, either he’s been fired, or Bruns thinks the competition will compel him to finish the job.” Valek told Fisk about the bounty.

“She has to leave now and go some—”

“I already tried that. Best I could do was get her to promise to stay at HQ until I’ve dealt with The Mosquito.” In other words, once Valek plunged his knife in The Mosquito’s heart and scared all the others away.

“That’s some relief.” Fisk ran both his hands through his hair. “But the Citadel will be overrun with assassins, and it’s gonna be hard to find the bug. He’s smart, and my people aren’t as effective in the Citadel. Rumors that they’re doing more than helping carry packages for shoppers are spreading. Before, everyone ignored my kids, thinking them harmless and stupid. Now...”

“Just tell them to keep an eye out for him. I only need a general vicinity.”

“All right. And now that Yelena is under house arrest, so to speak, she can take over collecting the information from my people, since they trust her, and I can do a bit of reconnaissance on my own.” Fisk paused. “Are you sure she’s going to be happy hanging around here all day?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep her happy.”

Fisk shot him a dubious look before heading to bed. Valek settled behind the desk and studied the map Fisk had been marking. The other Sitian garrisons were highlighted. Members of the Helper’s Guild had infiltrated them all. Since the Cartel controlled the Citadel and the Moon, Krystal, Featherstone and Greenblade garrisons, they’d put the military soldiers in charge of all the civilian security forces in those lands. Rumors that the Cloud Mist base was also compromised hadn’t been substantiated yet.

The garrisons farther south still hadn’t been indoctrinated, and Valek had agents working in the kitchens to ensure they remained uninvolved long enough for Valek to recruit them to their side. The agent in the Jewelrose garrison hadn’t reported in weeks, and Valek suspected the man had been captured or converted. Heli the Stormdancer was keeping an eye on the base in the Stormdance lands, but the storm season would start at the beginning of the heating season, and he’d need to find another agent then.

Ari and Janco had been assigned to the Greenblade base to keep an eye on the Sitian Councilors and First Magician Bain Bloodgood. Eventually, they would need to be rescued. Meanwhile, his sister Zohav and his brother Zethan—a concept that still amazed him—worked on exploring the extent of their powers with Teegan and Kade on the Stormdance coast. They were safe for now.

Valek reviewed his to-do list—identify the Cartel members, find and cut off the source of the Theobroma, rescue the Councilors, recruit the southern garrisons and free the magicians in the other garrisons. Oh, and find some time to rescue the Commander. Knowing what he needed to do was the easy part. Too bad he didn’t quite know how these tasks would be accomplished, with only Fisk’s Helper’s Guild and ten others to help. They needed more bodies. More allies. Yelena wished to recruit Cahil, believing the man might be smart enough to see the truth. Valek hoped she was right. Then there were Devlen, Opal and her soldier friends, Nic and Eve. As long as Reema was safe, they might be willing to help. Perhaps when Leif, Mara and Esau returned, he’d send another messenger to Fulgor, the capital of the Moon Clan’s lands and ask.

Leif and Mara had left ten days ago to collect Esau and the plants in the glass hothouse near Broken Bridge. They should be at the farmstead where Leif had left his father by now. However, the return trip to the Citadel would take them twice as long since they’d be pulling a wagon.

* * *

Fisk’s people honed in on a potential location for The Mosquito three days later and provided him with a current description. Valek had been collecting information in the Council Hall in the evenings, much to Yelena’s annoyance at the risk he took while she was stuck at HQ. He refused to feel bad. In fact, knowing she was safe after learning Bruns’s plans kept him from being overwhelmed with all that had to be done. Plus, when he returned each morning, he woke her with more reasons to stay safe.

“You’re going after him,” Yelena said. It wasn’t a question.

She watched him as he dressed in nondescript Sitian clothing—a gray tunic and charcoal-colored pants—and tucked a number of weapons into the various pockets and hidden holders.

“If you kill him, does that mean I’m no longer under house arrest?”

“Technically, yes. But there’s still the bounty,” he said.

“What if he kills you?”

“He won’t.”

“Cocky bastard.”

Valek pulled her close and kissed her. “He won’t, love.”

She melted against him. “I feel so useless.”

“Don’t. The kids love you, and Fisk is getting better intel by being out in the Citadel.”

She managed a half smile. “You’re right.”

“I’m going to put on quite the show today and attract lots of attention and scare the other bounty hunters off for a while, so if you really can’t stand being inside and want to get some fresh air this afternoon, it should be a little safer.”

Yelena’s face lit up.

“I’d rather you didn’t, but if you do, please don’t go far or alone. All right?”

“Yes.” She hugged him tight.

He nuzzled her neck.

“Tell The Mosquito to enjoy the fire world for me,” she said.

“It will be my pleasure.”

Once outside, Valek moved through the busy market with ease. He spotted a number of Fisk’s guild members working the crowd and darting between shoppers. The market was located at the very center of the Citadel. Factories and businesses ringed it in ever-widening circles and occupied the two center sections of the Citadel. The Magician’s Keep encompassed the northeast quadrant, and the Sitian Council Hall and other government buildings were located in the southeast corner. The Citadel’s citizens lived in the labyrinth of homes in the northwest and southwest quadrants.

A few of the abandoned warehouses and factories had been converted into apartments, and according to Fisk, The Mosquito lived on the top floor of one of them. Normally Valek would attack at night, but The Mosquito knew that trick and would be ready.

As he crossed the market, Valek noted three people taking an unhealthy interest in him and sensed another, but was unable to locate the fourth—a professional. He considered his options. Lead the three on a merry chase to an unfortunate dead end, or lose them?

When he spotted The Mosquito standing near the entrance to an alley, Valek recognized the setup. Those three worked for the bug. Like a pack of sheep dogs, their job was to herd him toward that alley, where Valek’s prey would conveniently dangle like bait on a hook. Then the bait would slip down the alley and draw Valek right into an ambush. Classic.

He judged his odds. The Mosquito plus three—doable with darts, but just how many waited? A brief thought of using his magic to sense the others flashed before he dismissed it. Too many people around. Even though Teegan had taught him to control his magic in order to prevent a flameout back at the Stormdancers’ safe house, he was reluctant to use it. According to Teegan, his mental barrier was strong enough that he didn’t need to wear a null shield. Besides, he liked being able to detect when magic was in use around him.

Instead of using magic, he decided to take the high ground. Valek returned to the heart of the market and lost his sheepdogs, then cut down the street next to The Mosquito’s chosen alley. When no one appeared to take an interest in him, he climbed the nearest building and reached the top.

When he straightened, he spotted The Mosquito waiting on the roof two buildings down on his left. Fisk did say the man was smart. So how did Yelena get away from him with only a few cuts?

It occurred to Valek that perhaps Yelena wasn’t his target.

Valek drew both his daggers and faced The Mosquito as he lightly hopped buildings.

The Mosquito halted six feet in front of Valek. “Please tell me you really didn’t think I’d set up such an obvious trap for you.”

“You took a contract to kill Yelena. That makes me question the level of your intelligence.”

“Fair enough.” He swept a hand out.

Sensing movement behind him, Valek angled his body to keep the bug in sight while he glanced back. Four black-clad figures stood up from where they’d been lying on the right side of the rooftop. Nice.

“What about now?” The Mosquito asked.

“It depends on who you brought for backup.”

“Well, this is Sitia. Not a ton of trained killers here. But there are plenty of magicians. Four might be excessive, but...” He shrugged. “I’d rather too many than not enough.”

Ah. Smart move. Around Valek, the presence of magic disappeared suddenly. The magicians must have surrounded him with a null shield. Valek dropped his arms to his sides, as if an invisible hand had wrapped around his torso. When he’d been immune to magic, a null shield could immobilize him like a rat stuck between the jaws of a trap. Now...not at all. However, he didn’t want the bug to learn this fact until the perfect moment.

“Now I’m questioning your intelligence, Valek. Why would you come after me alone when everyone knows how easy it is to trap the infamous assassin?”

“Who says I’m alone?”

The Mosquito opened his mouth, but snapped it closed as his gaze slid past Valek’s shoulders. Four thuds sounded behind him. The presence Valek had sensed in the market stood among the prone forms. As usual, Onora was barefoot.

“You do realize she wants the same thing I do,” The Mosquito said.

Valek rolled his shoulders as if he’d been released from the pressure of a null shield. “I do,” he said. “But she’ll wait her turn. Right, Onora?”

“You can play with your bug first,” she said.

Valek didn’t hesitate. He flipped his dagger and flung it at The Mosquito’s chest with all his strength. Shock whitened the man’s face as the blade pierced bone and buried deep into his heart. The force slammed The Mosquito to the ground.

Shuffling close, Valek crouched beside the assassin. Valek met the bug’s horrified gaze. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a proper match, but I need to save my energy for the next fight.”

For Onora to show up in broad daylight meant it was going to take all his skills to defeat her. If he even could. She must have downplayed her abilities when sparring with him before. “Oh, and Yelena says enjoy the fire world.”

Valek yanked his knife from The Mosquito’s chest and stood to face Onora.


3 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

LEIF

“You can’t pack an entire hothouse’s worth of plants onto one wagon, Father,” Leif said for the billionth time. Sweat rolled down his face as he helped Esau pack the plants’ roots into large terra-cotta pots filled with soil. They’d been at it for two days now. “Just collect the important ones and those that you think can survive the trip.”

Esau knelt among the greenery. Dirt streaked his face and smeared his coveralls. His tragic expression over leaving any of the shrubbery behind was almost comical. “If Mara makes me glass panels for the wagon, we could construct a hothouse on wheels and—”

“It would weigh a ton and take a team of oxen to drag it to the Citadel. Not to mention draw attention to us, and right now, we can’t afford to be noticed.” Leif and Mara had to dodge a number of military patrols on the eight-day trip here. Traveling with a full wagon was going to be a nightmare. “We’ll probably have to put a tarp over the plants we do take in order to blend in.”

Esau gasped in dismay, and Leif suppressed a sigh. His father was the best at identifying and working with plants, but sometimes the man’s devotion bordered on obsession.

“We’re leaving in the morning, Father. So tell me which ones to pot, or I’m going into the farmhouse and—”

“Take the crossbreeds and the grafted Theobroma trees.” Esau stabbed his finger at the plants. Soil filled his nails, which had grown long, along with Esau’s wild gray hair.

Leif hadn’t wanted to leave his father behind in Broken Bridge when he’d returned to the Citadel two months ago, but that Zaltana stubbornness won out, and Esau had remained at the farmstead. And it appeared that he had practically lived in the glass hothouse and only spent the minimum amount of time on things like basic hygiene, sleeping and eating.

Then again, it was probably a good thing Esau hadn’t accompanied Leif. Considering he’d been ambushed, kidnapped, brainwashed and shot in the chest with a crossbow bolt, Leif thought his father had fared better, even with the malnutrition. Leif rubbed the scar on his chest, remembering the pain and the knowledge that he was dying. That he’d never hold his beautiful wife in his arms again. Then, from nowhere, Valek had appeared and saved his life. With magic! A month later, Leif still couldn’t get his mind to accept it. Valek, who’d been immune forever, and now...a magician of considerable strength. Weird.

Leif finished potting the plant and several more that Esau gave him, then stood. Stretching his back, he wiped the sweat from his face and headed toward the house to check on Mara. Ever since his near-death experience and seeing her a prisoner of Bruns, he grew nervous when he’d been separated from her for more than a few hours.

The trip to the Citadel was going to be tricky. He planned to let her ride his horse, Rusalka, with instructions to head back without waiting for them. It was safer for her, and she’d have a better chance of avoiding the patrols by traveling alone. The time apart would be torture for him, but it was much better than letting Bruns capture her again.

Mara was in the farmhouse’s large kitchen, cooking supper. He paused in the threshold and watched his wife. Honey-colored curls framed her heart-shaped face. She was gorgeous on the outside and equally as beautiful on the inside. He’d never met a sweeter soul. But he’d learned she wasn’t as soft as she appeared. Her run-in with Bruns had brought out her inner strength.

She spotted him hovering and flashed him a huge grin, her tawny-colored eyes shining with love. His heart melted at the sight, and he rushed to gather her close.

Mara nuzzled his neck. “You smell of earth and sweat.”

“Does my man-odor turn you on?”

She leaned back to meet his gaze. “You’ve been spending too much time with Janco.”

“I haven’t seen Janco in weeks,” he protested.

“Doesn’t matter. The damage is done,” she teased. “Go get cleaned up. Supper is almost ready, Man-Odor.”

“Come with me? Father is busy.”

“And let the roast dry out?”

“Yes.” Food had lost its appeal. Almost dying had a way of rearranging a person’s priorities.

“I won’t serve a meal that tastes like shoe leather.” She squeezed him. “We’ll have time later. This house has lots of bedrooms, and we’ll probably need to check on the horses sometime this evening.”

He laughed. “Is ‘check on the horses’ going to be our code?” Leif imagined a house full of kids and a future Leif announcing that Mommy and Daddy needed to “check on the horses” and would be back.

“You’ve no sense of romance.”

“That shouldn’t be a surprise.”

She shooed him away in mock disgust. Smiling, Leif cleaned up and helped her finish cooking dinner. He brought a tray of food outside for his father. After Esau ate, they loaded the wagon and watered the plants.

“Poor things.” Esau tsked. “Out in the cold. Maybe I should—”

“No. You’re not sleeping here with them. We’ll be on the road for—” he calculated “—sixteen days, if the weather cooperates. You’ll have plenty of time to coddle the plants. Tonight, you should get cleaned up and have a proper night’s sleep in a bed.”

But Esau fretted anyway, and Leif offered to put the tarp on that night instead of waiting until the morning. By the time he finished securing the fabric to Esau’s satisfaction, Leif really did have to check on the horses. He sent his father into the house with strict orders to wash up and go to bed, then headed to the barn.

He breathed in the comforting scent of hay, horses and manure. Rusalka greeted him with a soft nicker. He topped off her water bucket and added grain to her feed. Then he tended to the other two. Fisk had lent them a hardy sorrel quarter horse named Cider for Mara to ride, and who had also been trained to pull a wagon. Leif had traded in his father’s horse for a barrel-chested black draft horse named Kohl. The brute could probably handle the wagon on his own, but, due to the distance, Leif felt better with two.

Mara arrived just as he finished cleaning Kohl’s hooves.

“Come to check on the horses?” He leered.

She ignored him. “I tucked your father into bed, but I had to promise to tug on the fabric over the wagon to ensure it doesn’t come loose.”

“Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“’Cause you’re looking at your future. I’m going to turn into an obsessed old man who will demand that each bag of tea I make will have the exact same number of leaves while hair sprouts from my ears seemingly overnight.”

She cocked her head to the side and stared at his right ear. “And how’s that different than now?”

He growled. Mara squealed and ran for it. He caught her easily and carried her to the piles of hay. “Time to check on the horses,” he whispered in her ear.

* * *

The next morning didn’t go as smoothly as Leif had imagined.

“No.” Mara crossed her arms, emphasizing her point.

Leif tried again. “But it’ll be dangerous.”

“No. Where you go, I go.” She climbed into the wagon and sat next to Esau, picking up the reins. “We’ll avoid populated areas and keep to the back roads. We’ll be fine.”

“Do you even know—”

“Leif Liana Zaltana, if you don’t mount Rusalka, I’m going to run you over.”

Esau covered his mouth but couldn’t quite stop a chuckle. Great. This was just great. Didn’t she know Leif wouldn’t survive if something terrible happened to her? However, her stern expression meant he’d have more luck convincing the Commander to welcome magicians into Ixia.

Leif bit back a childish retort. Instead, he said “Fine” in a peevish tone, then mounted Rusalka and took point. The wagon team followed him from the farmstead.

They stayed close to the Sunworth River and kept to the back roads. Making steady progress to the southwest, Leif decided to remain well north of Fulgor and skirt the edge of the Snake Forest until they crossed into Featherstone lands. A solid plan, until it started to rain.

They’d been traveling about eight days when the skies opened and sheets of rain turned the road into a quagmire, forcing them to go south to access the stone-covered ground of the well-traveled east-to-west route.

Blending in with the other miserable travelers was the one benefit of being on a popular route. However, the presence of more patrols was the downside. But with the three of them huddled under cloaks and the plants hidden by the tarp, no one paid them much attention.

Two rainy days later, they were just about past the outer limits of Fulgor when the scent of burnt sugar stung Leif’s nose. Magic. He tightened his grip on the reins but stayed still as the strong aroma swept over him. Rusalka jigged to the side, agitated by the sudden wave of magic. Leif kept his mental barrier firmly in place but was ready to build a null shield if they were attacked by a magician.

Nothing happened, and the scent disappeared. But just in case, Leif pressed on longer than normal, trying to get as far away from Fulgor as possible before they stopped for the night.

The next day dawned bright and beautiful. Too bad it didn’t last. Two hours after they set off, Leif spotted a patrol of ten soldiers blocking the road, as if they’d been waiting for them.

Leif slowed Rusalka and opened his magical senses. When Mara caught up to him, he told her to stop the wagon.

“I’ll go talk to them. Stay here, but be prepared to jump off the wagon and run into the woods if I give you the signal,” he said.

“What’s the signal?” she whispered.

His magic detected the sweet scent of her anxiety. It smelled like molasses. “I scream, ‘Run.’”

“Clever.”

“That’s why I’m one of Valek’s go-to guys for spy stuff.”

She managed a smile. “Just be careful.”

Leif nodded and spurred Rusalka into a gallop. Ideally this was just a routine road check and he could talk his way past them. When he rode into a fog of black licorice, his magic detecting deceit, he knew they were in trouble.

Big trouble.

He spun Rusalka around and drew breath to warn Mara, but the words died in his throat. Another patrol stood behind the wagon. Mara spotted them as well, and the bitter tang of her fear stabbed right through him.

Ah, hell. He grabbed the hilt of his machete.

Mara stood up and yelled, “Rusalka, go home.”

“No!” But the well-trained horse grabbed the bit in her teeth, cut to the right and plunged into the woods at top speed, leaving Mara and his father far behind.


4 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

YELENA

After Valek left, I paced from the door to the kitchen and back again. The Mosquito was smart and well aware of Fisk’s network. There was no way he’d let them find him unless he wanted them to. He probably had an ambush set up for Valek. At least a null shield no longer trapped him, but he was vulnerable to other magic. An intelligent magician would be able to adapt once he or she realized the shield didn’t work.

I really wanted to get some fresh air, but I was trying to be sensible. There was no reason for me to go out. Turning around, I almost walked into Hilly. She blocked my path to the kitchen.

“Lovely Yelena, there are two runners upstairs waiting to report in.”

I glanced at the door.

She inclined her head. “Do you think staring at the door will make him return faster?”

“No.” In fact, he’d warned me he might not be back until the morning.

“Then why do it?”

“Because emotions don’t always follow logic.”

“Ah.”

“And I’m going crazy.”

“That I understand. Perhaps you need something to keep your mind occupied.”

“The reports—”

“Not enough. What about all that plant information you and Mr. Valek collected?”

“I’m waiting for my father and brother.”

She remained quiet.

I sighed in defeat. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take a look at it now. Thanks, Hilly.”

Flashing me a smile, she returned to the kitchen as I headed to Fisk’s office. The two young boys sprang to their feet when they spotted me. Words tumbled from their mouths before I’d even settled behind the desk. I raised a hand, and they stopped.

Once I was ready, I asked them to repeat the information. Noting it down in Fisk’s log book, I thanked them for the good work. I assumed it was vital. Fisk had his members gather an eclectic range of data. And from this variety, he was able to make connections and discover golden nuggets of intel.

I collected the files Valek and I had taken from Bavol’s residence. Ignoring the dark brown stains of my own dried blood, I returned to the office. During my initial pass through, I organized them into three categories—useful, useless and beyond my expertise. I marked the third pile for my father.

Getting comfortable, I read through the notes in the useful stack. Bavol had considered the grafting techniques that Leif said Owen’s unknown Master Gardener used to increase the production of Theobroma. He had sketches of how to cut into the tree’s bark and insert a limb from an older tree and then bind them together. The older limb would produce pods quicker than the new host tree, cutting down on the two-year wait for the tree to mature.

I wondered if Bavol had tried it. There hadn’t been any plants in his home or office. Would he have used another location? Maybe in the Council Hall? No. Not enough light. Perhaps the Magician’s Keep? The gardeners who worked for the Keep had an impressive amount of knowledge.

Another hour passed as I continued reading, marking some pages for my father to explain. But one sketch drove me to my feet. I ran to our rooms and hunted through my travel pack, hoping that it was still there after all the insanity of being captured by Bruns.

It was. Thank fate!

Dashing back to Fisk’s office, I compared Onora’s drawing from the Commander’s castle to the sketch in Bavol’s file. They matched. I sank into the chair, mulling over the significance. Onora had drawn the saplings that Owen had carried all the way from Sitia. He called them Harman trees, and they had to be important with a capital I. Now Bavol also had a picture of them, but there wasn’t an explanation to go with it.

I growled in frustration. So close! However, this could be a clue that Owen’s Master Gardener might have worked with Bavol at one point. And they needed a place to work close by. Maybe even one of those glass hothouses. I returned to my reading, hoping for another clue.

“What are you scowling at?” I jumped at the sound of Fisk’s voice. He stood in the doorway.

“Bavol’s notes. Did you have a productive afternoon?”

His light brown eyes shone. “I finally found Lovely Adara the perfect dress for her wedding.”

“You’re seriously excited about that? At a time like this?”

“Yes. She is extremely picky, and her father promised me double payment if I found her one within the week.” He tapped his bulging pocket and coins rattled. “He hated to pay, but once again I proved I can find anything in the Citadel.”

I grinned at him.

Fisk held his hands up. “Oh, no, what did I say?”

“Have you found a structure made of glass in the Citadel? Or maybe a building with lots of windows? Perhaps with greenery growing inside it?”

“No, but...” Fisk moved to his desk and dug through the drawers. “Tweet mentioned a green glass roof, but I thought I’d translated his report wrong.”

“I’m amazed you understand him at all.” Tweet’s tongue had been cut out at a very young age, so he communicated with a variety of hoots and whistles. Hence the nickname.

“We both grew up on the streets,” Fisk said, as if that explained everything. He withdrew a notebook and flipped through the pages. “Ah, here it is. Tweet tried to look inside, but a man spotted him and chased him off with threats of harm if he returned. I figured he’d found a skylight and was peering down into someone’s bedroom. People don’t like it when you spy into their private rooms.” His tone made it clear that the very concept amazed him.

I suppressed a smile. “Where was this glass roof?”

“Not far from here. I can have someone take another look.”

“I need to go and see it for myself,” I said.

“But Valek—”

“—said I can get some fresh air. Besides, once he kills The Mosquito, the others will be too frightened to come after me. Plus it’s close, and you’ll be with me. Right?”

“I don’t know.”

I tried another tactic. “We can bring along a couple bodyguards, if that makes you feel better.”

“Bodyguards? You do realize most of my people are underage.”

I stared at him.

He fidgeted under my scrutiny. “Well, I do have a few members who are skilled fighters.”

“Please, Fisk. I’m going crazy in here. Valek was okay with me leaving as long as we stay nearby.”

“If anything happens—”

“It won’t.”

“—Valek’s going to kill me.”

“I’ll kill you if I have to stay inside one more moment.”

“Sorry, but Valek scares me more.”

“That’s ’cause you’ve never seen me cranky.” I stood.

“All right, but we’ll need disguises. And if Valek asks, you forced me at knife point.”

“Chicken.”

“Damn right.”

* * *

Our disguises turned out to be a family. Fisk played the father, I took the role of mother and the bodyguards, Lyle and Natalie, were dressed as our children. The irony was not lost on me. With blond curls and chubby cheeks, Lyle was so adorable, I had to resist picking him up and hugging him.

As Fisk and I strolled hand in hand, I asked, “Are they even armed?”

“To the teeth.”

“Must take after my side of the family.”

Fisk chuckled. “They’ve been bugging Valek for lessons, and he’s been kind enough to work with them when he has time.” He squeezed my hand. “He’s going to make a wonderful father.”

I squeezed back in agreement. We walked for a while in silence. I enjoyed the fresh air and the afternoon sunshine warming my black hair. One of the guild members had pinned it into a sedate bun and used makeup to age my face. My future had stared back at me in the mirror.

Fisk navigated the maze of streets and buildings that comprised the northwest quadrant of the Citadel. Constructed from a variety of building materials, the once-organized grid of residences was now a labyrinth of homes, apartments and shacks.

“Tweet said he’d meet us near there,” Fisk said. “It’s a bit tricky to find.”

“Good. Is anyone following us?”

“No one has taken the least bit of interest in us.”

I considered the speed of his reply. “You have more people shadowing us, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“How many?” Or rather, just how scared of Valek was he?

“Two scouts and two sweepers.”

“Sweepers?”

“They follow behind and ensure no one is trailing after us.”

“Ah.”

When we drew closer to our destination, Tweet appeared as if from nowhere. He took my other hand and smiled shyly. We strolled another couple blocks in silence.

“Go with Tweet,” Fisk said. “He’ll show you and Lyle where the glass roof is, and the rest of us will meet you on the flip side.”

“All right.”

Fisk released my hand, and I allowed Tweet to lead me. Lyle, the chubby-cheeked blond, trotted at my heels like a lost puppy. We cut through a narrow alley, climbed a rickety series of steps and cat-walked between buildings until we reached a roof. Tweet stopped and pointed to an adjoining roof that was made of glass. Sunlight reflected off the surface, so I was unable to see inside.

Tweet put a finger to his lips and mimed tiptoeing. Understanding the need to be quiet, I crept toward the glass roof. My pulse raced as I drew closer and spotted green shapes. But when I reached the edge, disappointment deflated my excitement.

Algae coated the inside of the glass. All the plants Bavol had been interested in would need sunlight to grow. I peered through a couple clear spots, but dead plants and shriveled leaves occupied most of the room. It appeared nothing but mold and fungus grew inside.

I returned to Tweet, who shrugged as if to say it was worth a shot.

Not about to give up, I crouched down and described the glass hothouse to Tweet. “In order to build it, they would have needed large sheets of glass. Maybe you or one of your friends saw a glassmaker delivering them?”

He met my gaze and nodded. Lyle and I followed him off the roof and joined Fisk. I shook my head at his questioning expression.

“Back to HQ?” he asked.

Tweet piped up with a series of hoots.

Fisk groaned. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“There’s a glassmaker with a factory in the fourth ring of the Citadel who has been specializing in sheet glass for windows.”

“Great. Let’s go talk to him,” I said.

“I don’t know,” Fisk hedged. “The bounty hunters have been watching the market. And you said Valek only approved a short trip.”

“We’ll avoid the market. Besides, with these snazzy disguises, no one will suspect a thing.”

“You’re killing me, and not with your humor,” Fisk muttered. But he led the way, once again taking up his fatherly role.

We stayed away from the popular routes and avoided the deserted streets. Half the time I didn’t know where we were, but I trusted my guides. I smelled the sweet odor of burning white coal before I spotted the small factory tucked between two warehouses. The sign above the door read Keegan Glass.

A chime announced our arrival. Glass wine goblets, vases and pitchers decorated the display shelves. I gathered the “kids” close and told them not to touch anything.

A middle-aged man glided from a back room. He gave the kids a stern glare, as if daring them to misbehave, before asking if he could help us.

“I hope so,” Fisk said. “We are building onto our house, and my wife wanted to put in big windows in the new kitchen. She loves her plants and would really love just a wall of glass, but that’s impossible. What’s the biggest size you can make?”

Well done. Fisk was flawless.

“Actually, sir, I can make you a wall of glass, if you’d like.”

Fisk and I acted shocked. “But Crystal Glass said—”

“It’s impossible?”

Fisk nodded.

“It is. For them. Not for Keegan Glass. I’ve made an entire house out of glass.”

Yes! Keeping up the act, I furrowed my brow in suspicion. “Surely you jest.”

“It’s quite simple, actually.” Keegan then proceeded to explain how he made sheets of special glass that were used to build a structure. “Mind you, it wasn’t very big, but with enough support, it could have been bigger.”

“Was it part of a house?” I asked.

“No. It was the size of a large shed, but I can make yours to attach to an existing structure.”

Excited, I turned to Fisk. “With all that sunlight, I could grow all my own herbs!”

“You could,” the glassmaker assured me. “In fact, the guy who ordered it mentioned something about vines.”

Fisk pressed his lips together. “I’d like to see it first. Is it in the Citadel?”

“No. We delivered it to a farm south of the Citadel.”

Fisk glanced at me. “Doesn’t your cousin own a farm? She’s also a plant nut. Maybe...”

But Keegan didn’t fall for it. “Not likely. My client prefers that I don’t discuss the specifics of his order.”

Backing off, Fisk inquired about prices. Keegan wrote down the estimated measurements of the wall and returned to his back room. Fisk waited a few minutes before signaling the kids, who immediately started to bicker and then mock-fight. He gestured for me to intervene. I played the aggrieved mother trying to get her kids to stop. When they knocked over a couple vases, Keegan flew from the back room to admonish us.

I apologized and tried to clean up the mess while the kids continued their argument. As if on cue, the kids settled down, and we paid Keegan for the broken pieces. He was probably so glad to see us go that it would take him a while to realize that in addition to losing a sale, he’d lost an invoice as well. During the chaos, Fisk had slipped into Keegan’s back room. Keegan would have used the invoice for the other job to estimate the price of our project. At least, that was the hope.

“Did you get it?” I asked Fisk when we turned the corner.

“Yep.”

“And?”

He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and studied it. “No client name.”

I cursed.

“Language, Mother,” Lyle scolded.

“Be quiet, or I’ll pinch those adorable cheeks of yours.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered sourly.

“There is an address for delivery and a date,” Fisk said.

Better. “Where was it sent?”

“A farm right along the border of the Avibian Plains.”

Of course. The plains would be the perfect place to hide a glass hothouse. Only the Sandseed Clan and Zaltana Clan could travel across the plains without getting lost, and there were only a couple dozen Sandseeds left. But that meant if Bavol had been working with Owen’s Master Gardener, then the mystery person had to be a member of the Zaltana Clan. My clan. My elation died.

“When was it delivered?” I asked Fisk.

“A little over three years ago. Do you think it’s still there?”

I told him about my theory.

“Makes sense. No one would accidently discover it in the plains,” Fisk said. “Too bad the plains are so huge. It’d be impossible to find.”

“No, it wouldn’t. Bavol would build it only far enough in to hide it from the roads. No reason to go any deeper.”

“There’s still a lot of ground to cover.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem for a Sandseed horse like Kiki.”

“You can’t go unless you have permission from Valek.”

I laughed. “I’d like to see you stop me.”

His face creased as if he was about to get sick to his stomach. “Yelena—”

“Relax, Fisk. I’m kidding, and I’m sure Valek will approve of the trip, since I’d be leaving the Citadel and going where only a few can follow.”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Do you know that?”

“You love all this intrigue and drama. You’re the Sitian Valek.”

Fisk laughed and started to shake his head, but his expression sobered. He glanced at me. “Do you think if we manage to save Sitia from the Commander, the Sitian Council would hire me as their Chief of Security?”

“They’d be idiots not to. But would you really want the job? You’d have bosses.”

“Ugh. I didn’t think of that. Hmm... I guess it would depend on the salary.”

We walked toward HQ in companionable silence. The lamplighters began their nightly routine, moving from one lamppost to the next like synchronized fireflies. The sun had disappeared behind the Citadel’s walls, which meant we’d been gone a few hours. Ideally we would return a few minutes before Valek, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him. However, I’d be thrilled if he was already there, waiting for us, even if it meant I’d be in trouble for this extended trip. Although promising to remain in HQ had its...perks.

When we entered the northwest quarter, we caught up to the lamplighters. Amazed by their dexterity, I watched as one woman climbed the post one-handed, holding a lit torch in the other.

Fisk grabbed my elbow and pulled me along at a quicker pace. Concerned, I hurried to keep up and noticed that there were far more lamplighters than this street required, and yet half the lanterns remained dark. I glanced around. We were surrounded by a ring of figures holding blazing torches, and I was unarmed. I’d left my bo staff back at HQ because it didn’t fit in with my disguise.

We stopped. I reached for my switchblade as nasty-looking curved daggers appeared in Lyle’s and Natalie’s hands. Even Fisk pulled a short sword from his tunic. My thoughts flashed to Valek as I slid my feet into a fighting stance. If I escaped, I’d never dismiss his concern for my safety as being overprotective again.

Undaunted by the display of weapons, the ring of fire tightened. My blood sizzled with fear. I shrank back as the lamplighters closed in on us. Even when I had magic, I had no control over fire. And, although I knew that the Fire Warper had been captured and imprisoned in a glass prison years ago, an irrational part of me expected to see him smirking at me through the flames.

Lyle, Natalie and Fisk formed a protective circle around me. They brandished weapons, but I’d bet all the coins in my pocket that they didn’t have any experience fighting against a flaming torch. Neither did I. I held my switchblade, even though its nine-inch blade was inadequate. Fisk had the best shot with his short sword.

One of the lamplighters gestured to a small gap opening in the circle. “Fisk and the kids can go. We don’t wish to harm them.”

“No,” Fisk said.

“Yes, go,” I said at the same time.

“No.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Go and bring back help.”

“The sweepers should already be on the way for help.” He glanced at me with a grim expression and whispered, “We need to delay as long as possible.”

“I’m not worth your life.”

Surprised, he said, “Sure you are. Without you, I wouldn’t have this life.”

“Fisk—”

“Time’s up,” the lamplighter said.

The gap closed, and the lamplighters rushed us. Although the kids showed an impressive amount of skill, the math just wasn’t in our favor. Shorter weapons and a dozen against four. My switchblade was knocked from my hand, and it didn’t take long for the four of us to be backed against the building.

A torch was thrust at my chest. “Hands up, or we’ll set your clothes on fire.”

I didn’t need any more incentive. I held my arms up as heat brushed my face. The bright light seared my vision, turning everything behind the fire black. Next to me, Fisk punched one of the lamplighters, but another ambusher swung his torch at Fisk’s temple. Knocked unconscious, Fisk collapsed to the ground with a heart-stopping thud. Lyle and Natalie dove through the lamplighters’ legs, and four of the attackers chased them. I hoped they escaped.

“Lace your hands behind your head,” a voice ordered me.

I did as instructed, not only hooking my fingers together, but through my bun as well.

“Turn around.”

I faced the wall. Someone grabbed my wrists. Then each one was pulled down behind my back and snapped into a cuff. These guys weren’t taking any chances. But they failed to check my hands. I held two fistfuls of bobby pins.

Dousing their torches, they ignored my questions as they led me through the Citadel without saying a word. I hated to admit it, but posing as lamplighters had been a smart move. No one so much as glanced at us. Six of them kept me boxed in the middle, hidden from casual view. I dropped one bobby pin after each turn, hoping that Valek could follow my trail and I didn’t run out before we reached our destination.

I wondered just how long they’d been waiting for me to leave the security of HQ. The ambush must have taken some planning. Did they set it in motion as soon as I was spotted this afternoon? How did they know I’d still be out at twilight?

Did it really matter at this point? No. All that mattered was that it had worked, and I was caught.

We entered the rings of warehouses, factories and businesses in the central area of the Citadel. Looping around to the alley behind a sprawling structure, the lamplighters led me inside. Before I stepped over the threshold, I dropped my last two bobby pins. Piles of crates littered the floor, and we wove around them before stopping at a set of stairs that disappeared down to the dark basement.

One of the group found a lantern and lit it. A skittery prickle coated my skin as we descended. My imagination conjured up visions of a dank cell and being tortured. I slowed. Hands grabbed my arms and pulled me along. At the bottom of the steps was a narrow hallway, and at the end was another door. My insides turned to goo and I braced for the horrors that waited for me within.


5 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

VALEK

“That’s it?” Onora asked, sounding disappointed. “Thought I’d get to see a show. You versus The Mosquito on a rooftop venue.”

Valek gestured with his bloody dagger to the four prone forms around her bare feet. “Thanks for the help.”

She shrugged. “Trapping you in a null shield wasn’t fair.”

“Are they dead?”

“No.”

“The Commander send you?”

“Yup.” Onora studied Valek without emotion. She had pulled her long brown hair into a bun on top of her head. “But you knew that already.”

“It never hurts to pretend ignorance.”

“Or to have people underestimate you.”

“Yup.” Valek wondered if that was a hint about her true abilities. He’d expected her to ambush him, not square off against him in a fair fight. That meant she was either crazy, brave or very confident. He’d put his money on confidence.

Onora stepped over The Mosquito’s sleeping goons. When she was within six feet, she pulled her daggers. Valek excelled at knife fighting, but Onora had been trained by the same teacher—and she was about twenty years younger than him.

He met her gaze. “Stay in Sitia with us. We need you.”

There was a split-second flash of hesitation in her gray eyes, and then it was gone. “I gave my loyalty to the Commander. I don’t go back on my word.”

“The Commander is not the same man I pledged my loyalty to. Even you have to admit he’s changed.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “You’re taking orders from Owen Moon now.”

“I thought only Janco talked this much before a fight.”

Valek shrugged. “Just trying to prevent an unnecessary death.”

“Keep it up, and I’m gonna die of boredom.”

Valek laughed. “Now who’s picking up habits from Janco?”

She pressed her lips together and slid into a fighting stance. He waited for her to make the first move. Good thing he didn’t blink, because when she came at him, he barely blocked her knives in time. His suspicions were correct—Onora had been hiding her skills.

This was going to be...interesting.

At five feet eight inches, Onora was four inches shorter than Valek, but she made up for her height disadvantage with speed and agility. Valek remained on the defensive as she shuffled in close, executed a flurry of strikes and danced back before he could counter. Then she switched tactics, circling him and coming in at an angle. Worry flickered in his chest.

“The Commander’s been training you,” he said.

“Yup.”

A brief stab of hurt and jealousy almost broke his concentration. While the Commander had always been willing to spar, he’d never offered to teach his fighting techniques to Valek.

Fire raced across his neck as her blade skimmed over the skin, snapping Valek back to the fight. He returned his full attention to Onora. But an impressive number of cuts peppered his arms and ribs by the time Valek had seen enough of her tactics to plan a counterattack. The next time she stepped forward, he also shuffled in close.

Valek launched an aggressive offensive of strikes with not only his blades but also his feet. His longer legs kept Onora at a distance.

She grinned at the new challenge. Grinned. Ah, hell.

He kept the pressure on her but knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain the pace for long. Already he sucked in breaths, while she appeared unfazed by the exertion. Real fear pumped through his heart.

He changed tactics again, this time trying all his tricks. He hooked her ankle and sent her to the ground. She rolled and regained her feet with ease. Valek poured on the speed and backed her toward the edge of the roof. She dodged and sidestepped.

Then he started fighting dirty. She growled, but countered. In a flash of understanding, Valek knew he wouldn’t win unless he used magic.

No.

With the last of his strength, he knocked the blades that had been aimed at the center of his chest, just wide enough to miss his vital organs—he hoped. Valek dropped his own weapons, shuffled in close and grabbed her wrists as she stabbed one blade into his shoulder and the other into his left hip.

Ignoring the explosion of pain, Valek fell back onto the roof, pulling her with him. He wrapped his legs around her torso and squeezed her to his chest. Onora struggled to free herself. He tightened his grip, making it difficult for her to breathe and proving that he’d won the bout. He didn’t want to squeeze the life out of her, but he’d do it to save his own life. Yelena and the baby needed him.

She stopped resisting. “I...wasn’t going...to...kill...you,” Onora gasped.

“Oh? You sure...looked like you...wanted to kill me,” he puffed. The pain and effort of the fight had caught up to him.

“I wanted...to...see if I...could beat...you.” She relaxed. “I can’t.”

Valek eased up on the pressure but didn’t let her go. “You came closer...than anyone. Only the Commander...has beaten me one-on-one.” He considered her earlier comment. “If you weren’t going to kill me...then what did you plan to do...when you had your knife at my throat?”

“Make you promise to come back to Ixia with me.”

Not what he was expecting. At all. He thought about it as his breath steadied. “The Commander is getting worse.”

“Yes. Obviously it’s due to Owen Moon, but I can’t do anything. Your corps won’t acknowledge me as their boss, so I’ve no help except Gerik. I swore to protect the Commander, so I thought if I let you live, you’d return with Ari and Janco and help me free the Commander.”

“You’d have to tell him you assassinated me.” He wondered if the Commander would be upset by the news. Probably not while under Owen’s influence.

“Yeah. Otherwise all Owen would have to do is use one of those shields, and you’d be skewered.”

He huffed in amusement at her use of another Janco term. The motion hurt like hell. “Like I am now.” Valek released his hold on her.

She extricated herself and sat up. “Sorry. I really didn’t expect that last move.”

He waved away her apology. “Desperate times...”

“Do you want me to...” She made a yanking motion.

“No.” Valek tried to sit up. Pain forced him back down. “Yes. I’ll need some bandages.” He could heal his wounds with magic, but not on top of a roof without Yelena nearby to give him instructions.

Onora picked up one of Valek’s knives. He tensed, but she crossed to The Mosquito’s goons and cut strips of cloth off their tunics. It would take a while for Valek to trust her. He’d won, but it had cost him. If they’d fought again, she’d win. Of that he had no doubt.

Returning with the bandages, Onora set the knife aside. “Which one first?”

“Hip.” He braced for the pain as she wrapped a hand around the hilt. Even so, a gasp hissed between his clenched teeth as she yanked it free. Blood poured out.

She helped him staunch and bandage the wound. Then she moved to his shoulder, and he experienced a whole new kind of agony. He was too old for this shit. When she finished securing the bandage, Onora let him lean on her as he stood. A moment of dizziness spun the Citadel around him. When the world steadied, he realized the sun balanced on the edge of oblivion. They must have fought for half an hour, at least. No wonder he felt as if he’d been run over by a herd of horses.

Onora picked up his daggers with exaggerated slowness and handed them to him hilt first. Smart. He met her gaze as he tucked them away. Then she cleaned hers and slid them back into their hidden sheaths.

“Can you climb down?” she asked.

He walked to the edge and peered into the dark alley below. The descent was doable, but it was going to be torture. “Yes.”

“What about the bug and his people?”

“Leave them. His people will eventually wake and need to decide what to do with his body.” Speaking of deciding, Valek glanced at Onora. “What are you going to do now?”

“Go with you, if your offer is still good.”

“And if it isn’t?”

She didn’t blink. “I don’t know. I can’t go back to Ixia. Guess I’d have to find a job here.”

And he was sure Bruns would be happy to employ her. “My offer stands, but it’s going to take me a while to trust you again.”

Onora looked up in surprise. “Again? I thought you never trusted me.”

“That’s what you were supposed to think.”

Crossing her arms, she studied him. “So, to me, nothing’s changed.”

“Yup. Except when I do trust you, we’ll go rescue the Commander.”

She smiled, and it reached her eyes. It was that smile that convinced him she’d been telling the truth. However, he wasn’t going to let her know. No. He’d let her sweat it out for a while.

* * *

As expected, the climb to the alley was a test of his pain tolerance. Twice he clung to the wall and fought off unconsciousness as fire burned along his shoulders and ringed his waist. Thank fate the trip down didn’t take long. Onora waited for him below.

Once he recovered, he asked, “Do you know where we’ve been staying?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been in town?”

“A couple days.”

He cursed. “Fisk will need to relocate his headquarters.”

She agreed. “There are a number of assassins in town. I don’t know if that’s normal, but it’s a good thing they’re not the brightest.”

Small comfort. Valek told her about the bounty.

“Yelena needs to leave the Citadel,” Onora said, alarmed. “The city is contained by an unclimbable wall and has only so many hiding places. Even those idiots will find her eventually.”

He barked a laugh that turned into a hiss. “I tried logic.”

“Try again.”

He admired her optimism. She followed him as he crossed the Citadel, staying in the shadows. Her passage was soundless, and when he glanced back at her, her skin and clothing appeared darker, as if she was turning into a shadow. Valek remembered Janco commenting on how well Little Miss Assassin blended in with her surroundings. Janco hadn’t detected magic, but he didn’t always pick up on the more subtle users, like Reema. It was a bad time to open his magical senses so Valek added it to the list of things he still needed to discover about Onora.

When they reached the secret entrance to Fisk’s HQ, Valek said, “Here’s the story. My injuries are due to a fight with The Mosquito. He used magic and, if you hadn’t come along to help, I’d be dead. Oh, and you had no intention of carrying out the Commander’s order to assassinate me.”

“Except for the fight with the bug, it’s true. Why the change?”

“You tell me.”

It didn’t take her long. “You don’t want Yelena to be mad at me.” Her brow crinkled. “Why?”

He waited.

Onora shook her head, truly puzzled.

“Because she considers you a friend. Yelena doesn’t have many friends. And none who have also been—” there really was no way to say this gently “—raped. You share that in common, and it forges a bond. I don’t want to ruin that for her...or you.” He sensed she needed it more than his wife.

“Thanks.”

He nodded and tapped the code on the door. Hilly opened it. Her gaze slid to Onora.

“This is Onora. She’s going to be staying with us.”

She stepped aside, letting them in. Hilly took one look at his bloody tunic and said, “I’ll fetch Chale.”

“Thanks. Can you tell Yelena I’m back?”

Hilly paused and turned around. Her tight expression warned him before the words left her mouth. “She’s not here.”

He stilled as a number of emotions fought for dominance. Fury rose to the surface, but his battered body couldn’t produce the energy to sustain it. Instead, a tired anger laced his voice. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Fisk, two bodyguards, Tweet and a four-person surveillance team. They’re wearing disguises. She’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“They went to check a glass roof in this quadrant. They should be back any minute—”

“Not helping.”

“I don’t know.”

Valek tightened his grip on his knives. He hadn’t realized he’d drawn them.

“I’ll go,” Onora said.

“No. She knows the Commander sent you. We’ll go together.”

“Renée! Innis!” Hilly called into the kitchen behind her. “Report for backup.”

“We don’t—” Valek tried.

“They know all the problem spots. And they can fight.”

Two teens raced into the room. Both were about sixteen years old. Renée was a sturdy-looking girl with pale skin and red hair, but Innis looked like a stiff wind could blow him over. Nonetheless, their determined expressions warned him that arguing would involve too much energy. And he needed every ounce to find Yelena. They tucked daggers into hidden sheaths. Valek figured he’d ditch them if they couldn’t keep up.

Without a word, he strode to the door and headed out. It took another minute for his brain to catch up with his body. He had no plan, and therefore no direction and no way of finding Yelena. Valek stopped and sorted through the limited information. Hilly mentioned a roof. A rudimentary plan formed.

“I need to get onto a roof, or the highest point in this quadrant, without scaling a wall. Can you get me there?”

Renée and Innis exchanged a glance.

“Penny’s Arch?” Renée asked.

Innis nodded. “Safest bet.”

“This way,” Renée said before taking off with a ground-eating stride.

Valek, Onora and Innis followed. After ten minutes, he hoped the teens wouldn’t ditch him. At least the effort to maintain the pace kept his mind occupied. His injuries throbbed with pain, and he didn’t have any spare energy to conjure up various dire scenarios for his missing wife.

The street lamps emitted enough light for them to skirt security patrols, avoid busy intersections and cut through an impressive number of alleys. Then it turned tricky.

Renée scrambled up a dilapidated shed and crossed a high fence to get onto the roof that was connected to a row of houses. Innis accomplished it with equal ease. Valek sweated as he climbed and almost lost his balance on the fence. Onora touched his elbow to steady him.

Once on the roof, they stayed on the top of the buildings, winding through the quadrant. The place resembled a maze, and Valek didn’t have the strength to track their location.

Penny’s Arch turned out to be a thick walkway between two buildings. It arched high up in the middle, as if the structures had shuffled closer together and bowed it.

Valek scanned the area, noting the brief patterns of the original structures that emerged from the unorganized mess. He didn’t know what he’d expected—a giant hand pointing to a specific section? Maybe if he used magic...

Valek lowered his mental barrier and was immediately assaulted with the thoughts of the thousands of people all around him. He raised his shield again, cursing. The entire endeavor had been a waste of precious time.

About to ask Renée to lead them back to HQ, Valek noticed that one area was darker than the others, but there was a bright glow right next to it. As if all the lanterns had decided to huddle together instead of spreading out.

Assassins were creatures of night and shadows, and if they’d set up an ambush, it would be in the darkest part of the city. And if there wasn’t a naturally dark spot, then they wouldn’t hesitate to create one.

“Renée, can you get us where it’s dark?” Valek asked, pointing to the spot.

“Yes. It’s near the entrance. There are two routes. Which one?”

“The fastest one.”

“There’s a wall.”

“Up or down?”

“Down.”

“I can handle it. Let’s go.”

Another race through the city. More pain and the conviction that his arm was about to rip from his shoulder. The trip blurred into one test of endurance. He kept his gaze trained on Renée’s back, concentrating on the next step.

Shouts pierced his fog. Two more of Fisk’s guild members joined them. Their mouths moved, but it took him a moment to decipher their words. And when he did, they made no sense.

“Slow down. What’s this about sweepers and lamplighters attacking?” he asked.

“They’re the sweepers for Fisk and Yelena’s surveillance team,” Innis explained. “They were running for help. Guess the scouts missed the ambush.”

The word zipped through him. “What ambush?”

“The lamplighters. Or people dressed like the lamplighters. They attacked with...” He swallowed, afraid to continue.

“With what?” Valek kept his fists pressed to his side to keep his hands from grabbing the boy’s shoulder and shaking him.

“Torches.”

Cold dread numbed Valek’s pain. “Where?”

“This way.”

He pulled his daggers and noticed Onora and the others doing the same. They raced after the two sweepers, heading toward the bright spot he’d seen from Penny’s Arch.

Except when they arrived, it was no longer ablaze with light. Instead, the dark area had spread, encompassing the entire street. Valek signaled for everyone to slow down. No sense rushing into another ambush.

They found the scouts first. The two young men had been knocked out, but their pulses were strong. Fisk lay crumpled on his side next to one of the buildings. He was unconscious as well, and had a large, fist-sized burn on his left temple. Blood dripped from a cut on his cheek. Valek suppressed his fury, keeping a firm grip on his magic.

“The lamplighters formed a circle around them and forced them up against the building,” one of the sweepers explained.

“How many of them?” Valek asked.

“At least a dozen.”

Lovely.

“Over here,” Renée called. “I found Lyle and Berk.”

Valek crouched beside them. Peppered with cuts, bruises and burns, the two...boys looked in worse shape than Fisk. But their chests rose and fell with even breaths. “Are they the bodyguards?”

“Yes.”

Incredible.

“They’re good,” Renée said in their defense. “They were just outnumbered.”

“Any sign of Yelena?” he asked the group.

No response.

Onora appeared next to Valek. “A word?”

They moved away from the others. “Did you find something?”

“I’ve an idea of which direction they’re headed.”

“Let’s go.” He stepped past her, but she touched his shoulder and he bit back a scream of pain.

Onora showed him her bloody fingers. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere. I’m surprised you made it this long with the amount of blood you’ve lost.”

Valek growled at her, “I’m fine.”

She stared at him. “Twelve of them. Two of us. Think you can handle six with that shoulder?”

He sighed. “I’m listening.”

“Go back to HQ and take care of your injuries. I’ll discover where they’ve taken Yelena. Then I’ll return, and we can plan a way to get her back. Together.”

She was right. Yet his heart didn’t agree. It slammed against his chest, trying to rally the troops, get the body moving, or else it threatened to break out and go on without him. “What if she doesn’t have the time to wait for us to plan?”

“If they wanted her dead, we would have found her body.”

She was right. But could Valek trust her?

Onora met his gaze, sensing his hesitation. “She’s my friend. My only friend. Ever. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”

“What about Sergeant Gerik?”

“He’s not my friend. He’s my brother.”


6 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

LEIF

By the time Leif wrestled control back, Rusalka had taken them far away from the wagon and its precious cargo—Mara and his father. None of the patrol members had chased after him. Leif dismounted and walked Rusalka, letting the horse cool down. He needed to cool his raging thoughts, as well.

Impotent fury burned in his chest over what Mara had done. She’d commanded Rusalka to go home, and the horse hadn’t hesitated. Damn. This was the exact reason why he’d wanted Mara to ride Rusalka. So she’d be safe. But she’d refused, and now she was caught, along with his father. Double damn.

Trying to suppress his fear and anger, Leif considered his next move. The patrol would most likely take them to Fulgor, to either the security headquarters or the garrison. If he could intercept them before they arrived...

No. Too many of them. Plus the soldiers were on horseback, and Leif would need to bring along a couple mounts for Mara and Esau. Doubtful he’d find any extra horses in the middle of nowhere. Leif glanced around at the forest and realized he had no sense of his location. As much as he hated—no, despised—the idea, he’d have to wait until they were taken to a specific place before he could rescue them.

At least he had friends and family in Fulgor. Opal, Mara’s younger sister, wouldn’t hesitate to help him, and neither would her husband, Devlen. Leif checked Rusalka’s legs and gave her water, but his mind was already planning his next move.

Only later, with Rusalka headed toward Fulgor, did Leif grudgingly acknowledge Mara’s quick thinking and intelligence. Of the three of them, he had the best chance of coordinating a successful rescue. He had magic, connections and the most experience. It made sense that he’d be the one to escape.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

* * *

Opal’s glass factory appeared to be abandoned. No light shone from any of the windows. The sweet smell of burning white coal didn’t float downwind. No one had entered or left since he’d started surveilling the place around midafternoon. Leif looped around the building one more time, checking for other watchers, and spotted a couple with a view of the front doors. Interesting.

He ducked down the alley and picked the side door’s lock. Inside, he confirmed his suspicions. Dark, quiet and cold—three things he’d never experienced when visiting Opal’s factory previously. The four kilns had always remained blazingly hot, day and night. Heating glass to its melting point took too much time and effort to let the cauldrons cool.

Leif lit a lantern and checked the apartment on the second story. Opal, Devlen and their two adopted children, Reema and Teegan, lived above the factory. A sick feeling swirled in his stomach when he spotted the overturned chairs and broken table in the kitchen. The military must have taken them. With Devlen’s superior fighting skills and Opal’s ability to make magic detectors, they would be an asset to the Cartel. Once they were brainwashed, of course. And even though Opal was immune to magical subversion, she would do anything to keep Reema safe.

Yelena had sent a messenger to Opal weeks ago, warning them of the Sitian takeover, but Leif guessed they didn’t get it in time. Good thing Teegan was currently safe on the coast.

Leaving by the same door he’d entered, Leif headed toward the headquarters for Fulgor’s security. Nic and Eve, two officers and friends of Opal, might be able to help him. But once he arrived, the number of uniformed soldiers coming and going at HQ meant the military had taken control of the local security and would likely arrest Leif on sight. No surprise, as martial law had been declared, but it had still been worth checking. Leif watched the flow in and out for a couple hours, just in case he spotted Nic’s broad shoulders or Eve’s short hair. No luck.

Leif had one last place to go before he ran out of options. Then what?

He pushed down the panic. He’d worry about that later.

The Pig Pen bustled with customers despite the late hour. Leif noted four Sitian soldiers, but he’d altered his appearance as much as he could under the circumstances. It was hard to disguise his square face or his stocky build. No sign of Nic or Eve, and their two stools remained empty. Nic’s twin brother Ian owned the Pen and nobody would dare to sit in Nic’s or his partner’s space. Leif settled on one of the empty stools and waited.

“Those stools are not for you,” the man next to him said. “You better find another place to sit.”

“I like this stool,” Leif said.

“You’re either brave or stupid.”

“I like to think I’m a little of both. It keeps people guessing,” Leif replied. Then he waved at Ian, who was tending the bar. “An order of beef stew and an ale.”

His neighbor laughed and muttered, “This ought to be good.”

Ian didn’t acknowledge Leif’s existence. Didn’t make a move, as far as Leif could tell, but within a minute, four thugs surrounded Leif.

“You’re leaving,” Thug One said.

They grabbed Leif under the arms and carried him to the door. Then they tossed him to the sidewalk. Leif rolled on impact and regained his feet.

“Tell the proprietor that I will no longer frequent his business. He doesn’t get a second chance.”

“Don’t come back, Meat,” Thug Two said.

They remained in front of the entrance. Leif brushed his pants off, glared at the impenetrable wall of muscle, and walked off in a huff. He took a circuitous route to the Second Chance Inn and found a hidden place to keep an eye on the inn’s entrance. He settled in for a long wait.

If Ian hadn’t been influenced by the Cartel, he would relay the message to Nic and Eve that Leif was at the inn. Provided Nic and Eve were also free. If Ian had been converted by the Cartel’s special indoctrination methods, then Leif expected a number of soldiers to storm the inn, looking for him.

When the sun rose in the morning without either scenario developing, Leif realized he’d have to rescue Mara and his father on his own. An almost impossible task.

Leif wandered the city, reviewing his options. He could return to the Citadel and recruit helpers. Or he could turn himself in and offer his cooperation and loyalty in exchange for Mara and Esau’s freedom. The Cartel was run by business people who honored written contracts.

Or he could go in undercover as one of the soldiers. With a null shield around him, he’d be able to avoid detection for a while. Then Leif remembered Fisk already had people undercover in the garrison. If he could just contact one of them—

“Spare a copper, sir?” a street rat asked him, holding out a grubby hand.

“Uh...sure...” Leif fished a silver coin from his pocket and gave it to...her? It was hard to tell under the grime.

“Thank you, sir. I have something for you in return,” she said.

“Oh?” He opened his magical senses, but only the clean scent of honesty reached him.

“A bit of advice. You need to leave Fulgor. Right away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t stay here. You’ve been spotted all over town. It’s amazing you haven’t been arrested already.” Her tone was a combination only a young teen girl could pull off—equal parts annoyed, dismissive and incredulous.

In any other circumstance, Leif would have been amused. “Maybe you can help me? I’m—”

“You’re too hot, Mr. Leif. You really need to leave.”

Ah. She was a member of Fisk’s guild. “Not without my wife and father. They were captured and brought to the garrison.”

Understanding smoothed her dirty face. “Oh, so you’re trying to be arrested. No need. They’re not here.”


7 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

YELENA

My captors opened the door into the basement of the warehouse. The bright warmth spilling from the entrance threw me off balance. I blinked and, for a moment, thought I’d been transported to the Commander’s throne room or a security office. Lanterns blazed from desks. Men and women bustled about or grouped together, discussing what must be important things, if I read their expressions correctly. A few glanced at us but didn’t think my arrival all that noteworthy.

Weaving through the people and furniture, our group—now down to four, plus me—headed toward an open doorway, where more light and voices poured out.

Entering the room, my captors stopped. Three men hunched over a blueprint on a table, arguing over the best way to bypass the building’s security.

The guy holding my right elbow cleared his throat to catch their attention. “You were right, General, she’s terrified of fire.”

The man with his back to us turned around, and my emotions seesawed between terror and relief. Cahil. My survival would depend largely on his state of mind, but at least there was some hope when dealing with him.

“Good. Any trouble?” General Cahil asked.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“Valek?” He spat the name.

“Occupied with his own ambush.”

Worry for him eclipsed my own fears. Did Cahil set up an ambush for him, as well, or had someone else? Was it Onora?

I kept the questions—and my rising concern—to myself. I wouldn’t give Cahil the satisfaction.

“Weapons?” Cahil held out his hand, and the lamplighter gave him my switchblade. He shook his head. “Hanni, search her. Be careful. She’ll have a number of darts—some filled with Curare—a blowpipe and a couple sets of lock picks. Check her hair, too.”

Damn. Cahil knew me too well. Hanni, who had been standing behind me, did a thorough search and found almost all my hidden surprises. She laid them on the table, and the other men stared at the amount in amazement. As Valek said, it never hurt to be prepared. Too bad I hadn’t listened to all his advice.

Cahil’s gaze, though, never left mine. His blond hair was military short and he’d shaved off his beard, but not his mustache. Amusement lit his washed-out blue eyes. “This reminds me of the first time we met.”

That time I’d been ambushed in the woods. Cahil had believed I was an Ixian traitor and planned to deliver me to the Sitian Council in chains. We’d gone on to become friends, then enemies, and finally called a cease-fire when he was promoted to be a general in the Sitian army and I was named Liaison. However, the last time I saw Cahil, he was taking orders from the Cartel. Was he still under Bruns’s influence?

“And I escaped.”

“True. But you had your magic then.”

He had a point. I studied him. Was Cahil aware that the Commander’s invasion was just a ruse to give control of the garrisons to the Cartel? That Bruns planned to use the Sitian military to take over Sitia without ever going to war? That Owen Moon practically ruled Ixia?

Now might not be the best time to broach the subject.

“What? No smart comment?”

I shrugged. “Too easy.”

He laughed. “Some things never change.”

Tired of the game, I asked, “Can we skip all this? What do you want, Cahil?”

Cahil gestured to the wall. “Secure her,” he ordered his people.

Resisting netted me a number of bruises, but I managed to knee one of the guys in the groin and kick another in the shin—a small victory, considering they chained my wrists to the rough stones with my arms spread wide. My ankles were manacled together and secured to the wall, as well.

While my situation had gone from bad to worse, I just couldn’t contain my amusement. “Are you that scared of me, Cahil?”

His cheeks turned red, and he ordered the others out of his office. Closing the door, he turned to me with a dangerous expression. “I know you, Yelena. I know what you’re capable of. What situations you’ve escaped from. This—” he swept his hand at me “—is excessive for a normal person, but you’re far from normal.”

“Is that a compliment, Cahil?”

“If it makes you feel better, then yes. It is.”

“Good to know you wish me to feel better. I was beginning to worry that you meant me harm, Cahil.” I kept using his name to remind him of the time when we were once friends. A trick Valek had taught me.

He rubbed his hand over his jaw and leaned on the desk, as if suddenly tired. A haunted emptiness clouded his expression, and for the first time since seeing Cahil, I feared for my life.

“What do you want, Cahil?”

“To talk with you.”

I bit back a sarcastic comment about having to work on his invitation skills. “I’m willing to talk to you, Cahil, but am I talking to you or to Bruns?”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I report to Bruns.”

“Does Bruns know you’re here?”

“Of course.”

Not good. “What is this place?”

“My base of operations.” He quirked a smile. “I never felt secure in the one they assigned me in the Council Hall, so I constructed my own. And I took a page from Valek’s spy book and recruited a group of loyal people.”

“And you used this network to help Bruns and the rest of the Cartel.”

“Yes. They wanted to protect Sitia, and the Council refused to see the need.”

Old news. “And now?”

“Why are you fighting the Cartel? Don’t you want to see Sitia safe for your child?”

A loaded question. “I’m fighting Bruns to keep Sitia safe.”

“Yet another statement that doesn’t make sense.”

“And I won’t be able to explain it to you, Cahil.”

“Why not?”

“You won’t believe me. You’ve been indoctrinated.”

He paced in agitation. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that since you’ve been ingesting Theobroma for seasons, you’re all under his control. None of you can think for yourselves any longer.”

Cahil shook his head, stopping in front of me. “No. The Commander is a threat to Sitia. And Bruns is a genius. He’s combined our resources, and we finally have an advantage over the Commander’s army. We don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I agree, he’s innovative. But what happens if the Commander doesn’t invade Sitia?”

“Our intel says he’s planning to attack soon after the fire festival.”

“Which Bruns learned from Valek.”

Cahil frowned.

“And why did he order you to the Citadel to find me? Aren’t you supposed to be leading the Sitian army against a major attack in four months?”

“Because he knew I’d get the job done. You can’t argue about that.” He gestured to my chains.

“Fair point. But couldn’t you have told someone else how to trap me? I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“It doesn’t work that way. Can you just tell someone how to find souls?”

Score another for Cahil. I changed tactics. “What happens if the Commander doesn’t wage war?” I asked again.

A mulish look settled on his face.

“Nothing happens, right? If the Commander is such a threat to Sitia’s safety, then why doesn’t Bruns plan to invade Ixia and take care of that threat once and for all?”

“We’re not like the Ixians. We value life. As long as we’re ready, the Commander won’t invade.”

I sagged against the wall. He’d been fully brainwashed. Nothing I could say would change his mind. “When is Bruns coming to kill me and the baby?”

Cahil stilled. “I haven’t told him you’re here.”

Oh? I waited.

“The Commander’s new assassin is in town. She and Valek were spotted having quite the battle on the rooftops and, I’m not sorry to say, your husband wasn’t doing very well.”

I kept my expression neutral despite the pain squeezing my heart into pulp.

“Our intel says that after she kills Valek, she’ll be coming after you next.”

Not a surprise, but still it felt like a kick to my stomach. “You’re going to let an Ixian do your dirty work?”

“Yes. You see, despite your current efforts to undermine Bruns, Sitians like you. If Bruns or I were to execute you, it wouldn’t be well received. But if the Commander is responsible for your death, the people will be upset and continue to support our efforts.”

Ah, hell. A smart move, although I was surprised Bruns agreed. Or had he? “Bruns doesn’t know what you plan to do.”

“Bruns had his chance to kill you, and he screwed it up because he wanted you as a showpiece.”

“What if Valek kills Onora?”

“Then I let one of the assassins in town score fifty golds. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve work to do.” He headed for the door.

“Cahil.”

He paused without looking at me.

“If Onora comes for me, can you free me from these chains and return my switchblade?”

“You won’t beat her.”

“I’d rather die fighting than chained to this wall.”

He met my gaze. “All right.”

* * *

Waiting was never fun. However, when I considered what I was waiting for... I forced my thoughts away, but of course they just circled right back around. If Valek won the fight with Onora, I might emerge from this situation alive. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t. Unless Fisk’s people moved in before Onora could. My emotions flipped from optimistic hope to fatalistic numbness and back again.

In order to remain sane, I focused on how I could protect the baby. I concentrated on what I could do. Me, and not any what-if scenarios about being rescued. But after looking at every possibility, I conceded that my chance of survival was close to zero.

Time limped along, and one of Cahil’s agents came by to feed me a handful of grapes. The voices in the other room eventually died, and the lanterns were turned down. They must be stopping for the night.

The thought of a night spent chained to the wall produced mixed feelings. The longer I remained alive, the greater the hope of rescue. Besides, stiff muscles and discomfort were a mere inconvenience if it meant Valek lived.

Another agent strode into the office. He extinguished the lanterns and muttered a hasty good-night before bolting. There were a number of words to describe this night, and good wasn’t one of them. Nope, not even close. I managed to doze briefly, at least until a burning pain in my shoulders woke me.

Cahil returned in the morning, or what I assumed was the morning, as he appeared awake and clean-shaven. He stood staring at me while one of his men lit the lanterns.

Unable to endure the silence any longer, I asked, “What’s the verdict?”

“The Mosquito is dead.”

“That’s good news.”

“I’d thought you’d like that.”

“What’s the bad news?” I braced for his answer.

“Onora was spotted in the Citadel late last night.”

My legs trembled with the effort to hold my weight. The chains prevented me from sinking to the floor. Valek would never have allowed her to walk away from a fight. The fact that she lived meant...

“We were unable to locate Valek’s body.”

“Why would you care about that?” I asked, leaning back on the wall as the rest of my world melted.

“Confirmation. We think she’s hidden the body to keep everyone guessing long enough to avoid any retaliation from Fisk and his people.”

The body. No longer being referred to by name. I concentrated on Cahil’s comment to keep from screaming. My focus narrowed to one thing—keeping the baby safe. “Why would she worry about Fisk’s guild? If she can...beat Valek, no one else can touch her.”

“Fisk has the numbers, plus Stormdancers.”

“Stormdancers?” This kept getting worse. If Bruns suspected the Stormdancers, then they needed to disappear. Fast.

“Don’t act stupid, Yelena. A huge thunderstorm roared over the Krystal garrison at the precise moment you needed a distraction to escape. You couldn’t have done it without their help.”

“We would have figured something out.” Eventually. Maybe. Probably not. Bruns had us pinned.

“You know, I was about to disagree, but I’m sure you would have, which is exactly why keeping you alive is a bad strategy.”

“Trying to rationalize your decision so you don’t feel guilty, Cahil?”

“I won’t feel guilty. I’m protecting over a million people. If only you understood that we’re doing the right thing—” he gestured vaguely “—none of this has to happen.”

“I understand that’s what you believe.” I straightened as a sudden notion popped into my head. Perhaps a way to save the baby. “How about a deal?”

“No deals.”

“Okay. How about you prove me wrong?”

Cahil gave me a just-how-dumb-do-you-think-I-am look. “Okay, I’ll bite. How would I do that?”

“You stop eating the food Bruns’s people cook and wear a null shield for ten days. After that, if you still think Bruns’s strategy is beneficial for Sitia, then I’ll sign up and help you convince Fisk and all his people to join up, as well.”

“And why would I trust you?”

“Because I’d give you my word, Cahil. And you know me. I’ve never broken a promise. Not even to the Fire Warper.”

A contemplative purse rested on Cahil’s lips. Then he chuckled. “You almost had me, Yelena. But I’m not falling for any of your tricks.”

“It’s not a trick. I’m serious. Think about it. There’s no downside for you.”

“Yes, there is. I’d have to let you live for ten days. Plenty of time for Fisk to send in his troops and rescue you.”

Good point. “I’ll send them home. I’ll stay with you.”

“Why would they listen to you? You could have been...what’s the word you used?...indoctrinated to the cause.”

I balled my hands into fists. Another valid concern. “It takes more than a few days to be brainwashed. How about if I sign an agreement, so you have written proof that I’ve given you my word? And we can also leave the Citadel before they try to rescue me. We can go to the Featherstone garrison. Isn’t that where you need to be to prepare for war?”

“So you can steal all our secrets.”

“Lock me in a cell. I’ve been in so many, it’ll almost feel like home.”

He studied my face for a dozen heartbeats. “You are serious.”

“Yes.”

“And if I write up an accord right now?”

“I’ll sign it.”

“What if I’m cured, but I still believe Bruns is the best for Sitia?”

“Then I lose. I’ll help you and Bruns, like I promised.”

“You’re that confident of my response once free of the Theobroma?”

“I know you, Cahil. I know that you would be upset by Bruns’s methods of robbing people of their free will and ability to make their own decisions.”

He strode to his desk, found a clean piece of parchment and wrote up our deal. It was simply worded. I would agree to go with him, without trying to escape or interfere with any of his plans, and to cooperate for ten days. No one but his loyal people would know who I was. In exchange, he would wear a null shield pendant at all times and no longer consume food cooked with Theobroma for ten days.

“How do I know if the food has Theobroma or not?” he asked.

I gave him a wry smile. “I can taste your food like I used to do for the Commander.”

He snorted in amusement and continued writing. At the end of the ten days, if Cahil remained loyal to Bruns, I would agree to join their cause, do nothing to sabotage their efforts and be an active participant.

“Like a cheerleader?” I asked.

He was not amused. “More like a spokesperson. And help us with strategy and planning.”

If he was no longer loyal to Bruns, then Cahil would join our side and be as engaged in our efforts. Cahil held up the finished treaty for me to read.

“We’ll need witnesses, and you need to release me.” Seeing his dubious expression, I added, “If I’m chained to the wall when I sign, then even a bad solicitor can argue that I signed it under extreme duress and that I don’t have to comply.” Not like I’d ever break my word; signing the parchment was a mere formality and for Cahil’s peace of mind. But I really wanted to be free of these chains.

Cahil disappeared and returned with two of his people. He introduced Faxon, and I already knew Hanni. Faxon unlocked the cuffs, and everyone stepped back a few feet with their hands on the hilts of their weapons. Amused by their skittishness, I rubbed my wrists, working feeling back into my fingers.

When the pins and needles ceased, I signed the agreement, then handed the stylus to Cahil. He paused for a moment—probably trying to uncover any loopholes—and added his signature to the document. Hanni and Faxon affixed their names, and it was official. I focused on the fact that the baby would remain alive. At least for the next ten days. If this ended well, we’d have a powerful ally. If not...

Best to focus on one thing at a time.

I drew in a breath. “We need to leave,” I said. “Right away.”

“Why?”

I told him about the trail of bobby pins.

“Shit.” Cahil barked orders to his people, harassing them to hurry and grab their things. We were leaving. Now.

Keeping out of the way, I hoped I’d have a chance to send Fisk a note. One of the agents handed me a cloak to wear, and while everyone was occupied, I reclaimed my weapons and lock picks. Grief threatened to drown me, but I chanted keep the baby safe over and over in my mind to block the emotion. Also there was the possibility that Cahil lied about seeing Onora in the Citadel.

Cahil returned. “Time to go.” He grabbed my elbow as we headed to the stairs. A number of his people preceded us, and the rest followed. Twelve total.

“Can one of your crew deliver a message to Fisk?”

He slowed. “Why?”

“So when I’m spotted at the Featherstone garrison, he doesn’t risk his people trying to rescue me.”

“Why would you be...” Cahil’s grip tightened, and he muttered a curse. “He has people in the garrisons, doesn’t he?”

“There are many public roads to the garrison. We could be spotted at any place en route.”

“Nice try, but you’re a lousy liar. Do you know who they are?”

Now it was my turn to curse. “No.”

“And you won’t tell me until the ten days are over.”

“No, I really don’t know.”

I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but he remained silent as we climbed the stairs and exited onto the warehouse’s ground floor. A few beams of sunlight pierced the blackened windows, providing just enough light to see the words written on the crates. Our group wove through them as if navigating a maze they’d been through a thousand times. I glanced at the floor. The dust was thick between the piles, but underneath our feet, the path was clean. Even I could follow this trail.

“Head to the Council’s stables,” Cahil ordered when he spotted the entrance. “Yelena will ride with me on Topaz.”

The door opened, almost as if on cue. Everyone grabbed their weapons as Onora strode into the building like she owned the place. I stumbled. The dam inside me broke, and grief ripped right through my body. The tiny spark of hope that Valek still lived died.

Cahil’s hand steadied me. “Don’t worry. I won’t let her kill you.”

I didn’t have the strength or the ability to correct him. Emotions lodged in my throat, cutting off my air.

He faced me. “Breathe, Yelena. We might need you if this gets...ugly.”

Right. I focused on Valek’s killer. Barefoot, and with her hair tied back, she looked years younger than twenty. Cahil’s agents spread out as much as they could among the piles of crates. Two of them held crossbows and they pointed their weapons at her, even though her hands were empty.

No, that wasn’t correct. She played with two bobby pins, spinning them through her fingers. Ah, hell.

Cahil strode forward. “You’re too late. Yelena’s in our protective custody. Go back to Ixia.”

Onora cocked her head to the side. “Why isn’t she dead?”

“None of your business.”

“But Bruns wants her eliminated.”

“Bruns? Are you working for him now?” Cahil asked in surprise.

“No. Bruns asked the Commander to send me to take care of Valek and Yelena.” She met my gaze. “One down. One to go.”

I drew my switchblade and advanced. The desire to plunge it into her heart pulsed through me. Cahil put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

“Bruns would never turn to the Commander for help,” Cahil said.

“Then maybe you need to have a chat with your boss.”

Frowning, Cahil moved his grip to my arm.

Onora noticed. “Unless you’ve decided to branch out on your own?” She waited. “No? Then give her to me. I’ll finish my assignment and be on my merry way.”

“No.”

“Why are you protecting her? She’s just going to cause you trouble.”

“Go home, Onora. You’re outnumbered, and the ladies holding the crossbows have excellent aim.”

Onora grinned, showing two rows of straight white teeth. “Are you sure about your math, General?”

“I count fourteen of us and one of you.”

Nice of Cahil to include me in his group.

“You forgot to check the ceiling for spiders.” Onora dove to the side.

Everyone looked up, but I stared at her, stunned. She had used Valek’s words. I broke free of Cahil’s grip and hit the floor as gray figures darted from where they’d been hiding between the piles of crates.

Cahil laughed. “There’s nothing up—”

Fighting broke out, and I stayed low. I’d been shot by a crossbow bolt before. Once was enough. Because of Onora’s spider comment, I didn’t know if the gray fighters were my friends or enemies. Had it been a signal to me, or just something she picked up when she’d been training with Valek? Rather than risk joining the wrong side of the fight, I kept away from everyone, ducking behind a pile of crates to wait.

I listened to the sounds of the scuffle—thuds, grunts, steel clanging against steel, cursing, a hiss of pain. Then, without warning, Onora appeared next to me.

“It’s safe,” she said.

Reacting without thought, I pressed the tip of my switchblade to her throat. “Valek?”

She held her hands wide. “Fighting Cahil, from the sounds of it.”

Surprised, I stared at her. Was this a trick?

“No offense, but if I planned to assassinate you, you’d be dead by now.”

Right. I lowered my weapon as relief swept through me. “Sorry.”

We returned to the main area. Cahil’s people littered the floor, and a number of gray-clad figures stood nearby. But what grabbed my attention was the man in black who had his sword aimed at Cahil’s neck. Cahil glared. A bloody cut snaked from his hand up to his elbow. His sword lay on the floor at his feet.

“Onora?” Valek asked without moving his gaze from Cahil.

“She’s here.”

“Watch him,” Valek said, tossing her the sword.

She caught it easily and kept it pointed at Cahil.

In two strides, I was wrapped in Valek’s arms—my favorite place to be. After a minute, I whispered, “I thought Onora killed you.”

“I told you I could handle her.”

“But Cahil said...” I shook my head. “Sorry. I should have stayed in HQ.” Should have trusted Valek.

“Doesn’t matter now. You’re safe.”

“And she’s still mine,” Cahil said. “Yelena, tell your husband about our agreement.”


8 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

VALEK

An agreement? Valek leaned back to meet Yelena’s gaze and did not like her pained expression. Not at all. He tightened his arms around her for a second, his instinct to protect her flooding him for a moment. Then, with effort, he relaxed and stepped away. “What is he talking about?”

Yelena explained the deal she had worked out with Cahil. As she talked, Valek kept a tight leash on his emotions. After a hellacious night spent healing his injuries and worrying about her, this was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“...we need Cahil on our side. You agreed. He won’t listen to reason while under the influence of Theobroma. This is the only way we’ll be able to convince him.”

Anger shot through him. “No. You can’t go to the Featherstone garrison. Bruns will find out, and then you and the baby will be killed.” Valek pressed his arms to his sides as the desire to throw her over his shoulder and bolt from the warehouse pulsed through him. She hadn’t trusted him to defeat Onora. Didn’t believe she’d be rescued. For the first time in years, he was furious at her.

“You can’t stop her. She gave her word,” Cahil said, holding up a piece of parchment.

The smug superiority of Cahil’s tone grated on Valek’s already frayed nerves. He pulled his dagger and advanced on the idiot. “I know a quick way to void that.”

“Valek, stop,” Yelena said.

“Are you that certain he’ll see reason?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

“What happens if Bruns learns you’re there?”

“I’ll protect her. It’s a provision in our agreement,” Cahil said.

The handle of Valek’s knife bit into his palm. He’d never regretted killing anyone in his life, but he’d kicked himself for letting certain troublemakers live, because they always returned to cause more problems. Cahil happened to be one of them. However, Valek’s plan to stop the Sitian takeover did include Cahil’s assistance.

“Can I see the accord?” he asked.

“Of course.” Cahil handed him the accursed document.

Valek read through the terms. A red-hot knot squeezed his chest. He sought loopholes. None. After committing it to memory, he returned it. “In ten days, I will be at the Featherstone garrison.”

“What if she loses?” Cahil asked.

“I won’t,” she said with conviction.

But Cahil could lie or break their agreement or brainwash her or...a million things could go wrong. If Cahil failed to switch sides, Valek would kill him. There was no way he’d allow Yelena to remain with the enemy.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Cahil stared at him.

“If she loses, then we are enemies.”

“And she stays with me,” Cahil said.

His heart tore in half. “Yes.”

“I want your word that you won’t try to rescue her or kill me if her plan fails.”

Valek met his wife’s gaze. Yelena seemed confident. Not much he could do at this point. “I promise not to attempt a rescue or kill you.” The words coated his mouth with a foul bile. Valek hated that he’d been forced to say them. Why hadn’t Yelena trusted him?

Cahil relaxed.

But Valek wasn’t done. “But I will be by her side.”

The idiot peered at him in confusion. “You just said we’d be enemies.”

“Correct. I won’t help your efforts or hinder them. But I’ll be with Yelena until the war is over. Consider me her personal bodyguard.”

“Valek, no.” Yelena protested. “They’ll kill you or use you to learn about the Commander. Besides, Fisk and the others need you. Sitia needs you.”

“I’m not fighting against you.”

Her face lost all color as she realized that was what she had promised Cahil. To fight against her friends and family. She clasped her hands together. “It won’t come to that.”

“I hope you’re right.” Their future happiness depended on it.

Onora stepped away from Cahil. “What’s next?”

With all the emotional turmoil, Valek had forgotten about Fisk’s people. They stood awkwardly at the edges.

“Back to HQ,” he said. They’d have to relocate and change their plans. Yelena had agreed to cooperate during the next ten days. Cahil might claim that meant revealing vital information. Also, if Cahil remained convinced of Bruns’s good intentions, then Yelena would be obligated to reveal all their plans.

Then it hit him. He couldn’t be part of developing the new strategy, or else he might be forced to divulge the intel if he became her bodyguard while she worked for the Cartel. Ah, hell. They were screwed with a capital S.

“What about my people?” Cahil asked. “Are they dead?”

“No. Neutralized,” Onora said. “They should wake up in a few hours.”

“Cahil knows Fisk has people in the garrisons and that the Stormdancers are helping us,” Yelena said.

And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse. Unable to speak without growling at her, Valek nodded instead. It was all he could handle at this time.

“Let’s go,” Valek ordered. The guild members and Onora headed to the door. Before following them, Valek glanced at Cahil’s smug expression, and Yelena’s pained one. “See you in ten days.” He left.

Valek set a quick pace for a few blocks. Then he told everyone to scatter and meet back at HQ. Onora stayed with him as he leaned against a building, the enormity of the situation catching up to him. And the regret. He hadn’t hugged or kissed his wife goodbye.

“Can you shadow her?” he asked Onora. “Make sure Cahil doesn’t go back on his word not to harm her?”

“Yes. Meet in the town near the Featherstone garrison in nine days?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

“Don’t worry. She knows what she’s doing.” Onora gave him a salute and disappeared down the street.

He’d like to believe that, but ever since Yelena lost her magic, she’d been doubting herself. And now this idiotic agreement with Cahil. She must have panicked last night, believed Cahil’s lies and, worried that the baby’s life was in danger, come up with what she thought was a good solution. If only she’d trusted him.

Nothing to be done about it now. Valek pushed off the wall and headed to HQ.

* * *

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” Fisk said.

Valek wished. “No. You need to relocate the Stormdancers, my brother, my sister and Teegan to a secure place. Recall Ari and Janco. Ari is going to be your best bet for strategy and planning. When Leif, Mara and Esau return, have them go into hiding. And get your people out of the garrisons before they’re caught.”

Fisk sat stunned. “Wow.”

“Do you have any null shield pendants?”

“Yes. Leif’s learned how to make them using wood.”

“Please send one to Cahil with my compliments. And another for Yelena, just in case.”

“Got it.”

Valek left Fisk to absorb the bombshell he’d just dropped on him. When he arrived at their rooms, Valek paused. The smell of lavender—Yelena’s favorite scent—sucked away all his remaining energy. He sat on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his hands as exhaustion swept through him.

Once Onora had returned with Yelena’s location, Valek had spent all last night planning her rescue, and that was after he’d used magic to heal his shoulder and hip. Chale hadn’t been strong enough to repair such extensive injuries. The fact that Valek managed to mend the damage and didn’t flame out and kill himself had been a source of pride.

Summoning the strength to stand, he packed his and Yelena’s saddle bags. Then he carried them down the stairs and headed to the hidden stables behind the kitchen.

Fisk chased him. “Where are you going?”

“I need to leave so I don’t overhear your new strategies.”

“Where do we find you if everything works out?”

Valek considered. “The Cloverleaf Inn in Owl’s Hill. Do you know it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He continued past the ovens.

“It’ll work out,” Fisk called.

But Valek didn’t have the energy to reply. Onyx and Kiki greeted him with whickers, and they nosed his pockets for treats. Giving each a milk oat, he stroked their necks and checked their legs for hot spots. All black, Onyx was built for speed. Sleek and quiet, he matched Valek’s personality.

Valek saddled both horses and secured Yelena’s bags and bo staff to Kiki’s saddle. Leading them outside, he turned to Kiki. White coated most of her face, except for a swirl of copper around her left eye. She had white socks, but the rest of her was copper. Her long ears pricked forward.

He relaxed his mental shield, allowing Kiki’s thoughts to fill his mind—one of the perks to having magic. As a Sandseed horse, Kiki used a form of magic to communicate mentally with humans and other non-Sandseed horses like Onyx.

Lavender Lady? she asked, using Yelena’s horse name.

With Peppermint Man, he said. Go find Topaz. He’s at the Council’s stables. Lavender Lady needs you.

Needs Ghost No More.

He’d been Ghost, but since he was no longer immune to magic, Kiki had added the “No More” to his name. Not this time.

She flicked him with her tail. Every time.

He laughed without humor. Lavender Lady doesn’t agree with you. Besides, he trusted Onora to keep an eye on her.

Smoke Girl part of herd. Kiki approved.

Smoke?

Unable to verbalize, Kiki sent images of Onora sitting quiet and still, blending in with her surroundings and moving with grace, like a wisp of smoke. Kiki hinted at something deeper within the girl. That a fire burned at her core, but she hid it beneath a smoke screen.

A good analogy, Valek thought.

Kiki smart.

Yes, you are.

Come.

I will be there. I just need...time. To cool down? Time to think?

Kiki’s blue-eyed gaze peered right through him. He remained still, even though the urge to squirm like a misbehaving child pressed on him.

Come soon. She trotted away.

He wondered how the Citadel’s citizens would react to a riderless horse, but then Valek remembered Kiki’s ability to stay hidden, despite being so large. Plus, unlike the other breed of horses, Sandseeds refused to wear horseshoes. No clip-clop of hooves on the cobblestones.

Valek mounted Onyx, but he had no idea where to go, except to leave the Citadel. “Let’s get out of here, boy.”

After they exited through the north gate, Valek let Onyx pick the direction. The steady rhythm of the horse underneath him combined with his exhaustion and it numbed him. His thoughts stilled. His emotions drained. A cool breeze fanned his face. The moist scent of earth and grass filled the air as trees and bushes blurred past, their green buds and blue sky the only colors.

Whenever Onyx stopped, Valek fed and watered his horse. He rested and ate stale travel rations until Onyx indicated it was time to go. The sun set and rose. Twice.

Onyx slowed as the light faded for the third time. Valek roused in preparation to care for his horse. But instead of halting in a clearing, Onyx approached a building. He had his dagger in hand before Valek recognized the cottage he and Yelena had purchased. It was located in the Featherstone lands, near the border with Ixia. Onyx headed to the tiny stable, pushing the door open with his head.

Valek dismounted. “Did Kiki tell you to come here?”

His horse blew a hot breath scented with grain in Valek’s face as if to say, Snap out of it, man!

Removing Onyx’s saddle and tack, Valek groomed, fed and watered his horse before shuffling toward the dark, cold cottage. Horsehair stuck to his sweat-slicked skin and coated his clothes. The warm season should be renamed the shedding season.

He paused in the threshold. It’d been three and a half months since he’d been here with Yelena. This was where their child had been conceived. Memories threatened to push through the fog in his head. Maybe he’d sleep in the stable. No, he was being silly. He entered. The empty rooms held no warmth. A light film of dust coated the furniture. Not bothering to light a fire or heat up the bathwater, Valek washed quickly. The little cottage had been perfect for them. A washroom and kitchen occupied the right side of the ground floor. A large living area filled the left side, and a huge stone hearth sat in the middle, heating all the rooms. The second story loft covered half the building and contained their bedroom.

After trudging up the steps, Valek shook out the blankets on the bed. Yelena’s scent slapped him in the face, and he collapsed onto the mattress. All his anger drained away in one gush of misery. Yelena had gone with the enemy, taking all his hopes and dreams with her. Ten days was enough time for Bruns to learn of her presence in the garrison. An intelligent businessman, he’d have informers in all the garrisons. Cahil had been brainwashed like all the rest. There was no way Cahil could protect her, no matter what he promised.

So what the hell was Valek doing here? Pouting. He should be arranging another rescue. Except he’d given his word to Cahil that he wouldn’t do that, and Yelena would never break hers. Until things went sideways with Bruns, Valek’s hands were tied.

He breathed in the clean scent of lavender. As he lay on the bed they’d once shared, a realization came to him slowly. He’d been so furious at her for not trusting him that he was doing the same thing—not trusting her. Yelena had been confident of Cahil’s ability to see reason, and she’d escaped plenty of tight spots before. And if the null shield pendant was taken from her, the baby created some kind of void, which protected her from magic.

Her comment about Onora finally registered. The idiot had lied to her. Told her Valek was dead. Desperate and upset, she’d made a deal with Cahil to protect the baby. Ah, hell.

He should have picked up on it sooner. Why had he gotten so furious so fast? He could blame his exhaustion on the fight with Onora, the energy needed to heal, and no sleep. But that was just an excuse. No. The Commander had sent Onora after him. Onora, who the Commander had trained and who fought Valek with the clear determination to kill. Considering Owen Moon’s influence on the Commander, that betrayal hurt more than it should. Commander Ambrose no longer trusted him after they’d worked together for twenty-four years. When he combined Ambrose’s lack of trust with Yelena’s, Valek had snapped. However, knowing why he’d been so angry didn’t help Valek feel any better now.

Valek pulled the blanket up to his chin. He needed a good night’s sleep. And after that? In six days’ time, he’d meet up with Onora near the Featherstone garrison. Now that he had time to think about it, a brief amusement flared over Onora’s confession that Gerik was her brother. It was one of those things he should have picked up on sooner, but it made perfect sense now that he knew.

But what was he going to do for the next few days? An idea sparked. He dismissed it as too dangerous, but his dreams swirled around the idea, testing it.

In the morning, Valek sat up and knew exactly what to do. Onyx fidgeted while Valek saddled him, turning a twenty-minute task into forty. Then the horse stood rock-still, despite Valek’s signal to go.

“I know you were hoping to rest here a few days,” Valek said. “We’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Onyx glanced at the stable with longing. Then he heaved a sigh and broke into a reluctant trot. Valek suppressed a chuckle—no sense upsetting Onyx any further. Valek required his cooperation; walking would take too much time.

Due to the extra time needed to avoid the border guards and keep out of sight, it took them the rest of the daylight to reach their destination—Ixia. Valek found a comfortable spot in the Snake Forest to leave Onyx.

After taking care of the horse, Valek stroked Onyx’s long neck and said, “If I’m not back by tomorrow morning, return to the cottage without me. Understand?”

Onyx lifted his head and stared down at Valek.

“I don’t like it either, but I need to do this.”

The horse snorted. Valek assumed that was an agreement and left. He wanted to be in Castletown before the streets emptied for the night. Due to the small city’s proximity to the Commander’s castle, Valek was certain there would be extra security officers patrolling the town. If he was spotted, this outing would not end well. His cloak hid most of his advisor’s uniform, but he needed to blend in, and there were other uniforms stashed at his safe house in Castletown.

When Valek entered the apartment on Pennwood Street, he surprised the agents who had been assigned to keep an eye on the city. Adrik and Pasha jumped to attention and saluted. Good to know they remained loyal.

“Report,” he ordered.

They glanced at each other. “Uh...there’s nothing to report, sir,” Adrik said.

Valek raised an eyebrow, inviting them to continue.

“We’ve been in standby mode, waiting out the storm, sir,” Pasha rushed to explain.

“The storm?” Valek asked.

“There’s an order for your execution, sir,” Adrik said. “All your agents know it’s bogus, and we won’t work with that...girl because she’s with them.” He spat the word. “We figured we’d lie low until you returned.”

“Lie low?”

“We all stopped sending reports to the castle, and all orders coming in have been ignored.”

Valek was touched by their rebellion. “You realize that’s an act of treason.”

“No, it isn’t,” Pasha said. “The Commander is not in command anymore.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“As soon as he ordered your execution, we knew. No way you’d do anything against Ixia or the Commander.” She flicked a long blond strand of hair from her face.

He wanted to hug them both.

“And there have been a few...inconsistencies with the Commander’s orders,” Adrik said. “He’s never changed his mind before, or given us conflicting orders. It’s almost like there are two people in power.”

His agents confirmed Valek’s suspicions.

“What are your orders, sir?” Pasha asked. “Did you come back to evict the Sitians?”

If only it was that easy. “Not yet. For now, continue to lie low.”

Their postures wilted at the order.

“We will evict them at the right time,” Valek said. “I need you to spread the word to the rest of my corps that Onora is to be trusted.”

Twin surprised expressions.

“Any estimate on a timeline for the eviction, sir?” Adrik asked.

“I suspect things will get hot around the fire festival.”

“And if they don’t?”

“That means we failed, and they won.”

“You didn’t train us to fail, sir,” Pasha said. “And if we can’t fail, neither can you.”

Valek laughed. “You’re right. Now tell me about the castle complex. What’s the word on security?”

“Touch the wall, and you’ll have half a dozen guards dropping down on your head,” Adrik said.

Owen must have rigged it with a magical alarm. “How about the gates?”

“Only the south gate remains open, and it’s tight. All personnel going through it are checked against a list.”

Valek considered. “All right. I have a job for you.” He explained.

As they headed out with eager grins, Valek rummaged in the supply closet. All his safe houses had the same materials. Soon after the takeover, the Commander had given Valek the freedom to secure these houses and purchase equipment. The addresses hadn’t been written down, nor did the Commander know them—the recent orders were probably being sent by Maren. The locations were given to Valek’s agents to memorize once they were trusted members of his corps. Each house had its own safe filled with enough money to cover expenses for a year.

It didn’t take the agents long to return. They supported a wobbly man between them. He wore a kitchen uniform and muttered nonsense—the effects of goo-goo juice. Best of all, he was about six feet tall with short dark hair.

“His name is Mannix, and he just delivered the castle’s meat order to the butcher,” Adrik said.

“Good work.” Valek dressed in the all-white kitchen uniform with the red diamond shapes on the shirt.

Moving quickly, Valek mixed up putty, matching it to Mannix’s skin tone. He then used it to alter his appearance, softening his sharp nose and chin. Tucking his longer hair under his collar, Valek buttoned the shirt up to the top to keep it in place.

“Well?” he asked Adrik and Pasha.

“It should work,” Adrik said.

“Should?”

“It’s dark. You’ll be fine,” Pasha said.

He hoped so. If he was caught...

No. Not going to think about it. “Release Mannix in the morning. And stay alert for any news about the castle and the Commander’s plans.”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

“Thanks for the help.” Valek left by the back entrance and headed to the castle’s south gate.

He strode with confidence and didn’t hesitate when approaching the gate. There were six armed guards. Valek recognized them. It was the two others—one man and a woman—standing just inside the gate who he didn’t know. The man held a clipboard and the woman stared at him.

“Mannix, cook’s aide,” she said in a bored voice to the man. Magic brushed his mental shields. Owen had brought in more magicians. Not good. Valek lowered his shield enough for his surface thoughts to be read. At least, that was what he hoped he did. He concentrated on what he needed to do to prep for the morning breakfast rush.

“Mannix, got it,” clipboard man said. “Go on.”

The gate opened, and Valek headed straight to the castle. His thoughts remained on finishing his work before going to bed. As soon as he entered the castle, he ducked down a little-used corridor. The perks of being in very familiar territory. Valek pulled off the putty and the kitchen uniform, revealing his black skintight sneak suit underneath. While he was tempted to visit his office, he was smart enough to avoid it. Instead, he found a hiding place to wait until the perfect time.

* * *

Near midnight, Valek ghosted through the empty hallways. He had written all the security protocols for the castle. As long as they hadn’t been changed, he would be able to reach his goal without being spotted. It all depended on Owen’s confidence that Valek would never return. Since Owen had easily captured Valek in a null shield and almost killed him the last time they met, the magician had to be feeling pretty confident that Valek would stay far away. And Owen must also believe in Onora’s ability to assassinate Valek, or he wouldn’t have sent her. Add those together, and Valek was literally betting his life that the protocols had not been changed.

He found a window, drew in a deep breath and then climbed out. He clung to the west wall and braced for shouts of discovery or a crossbow bolt shot through his back. When nothing happened, he scaled the wall.

Avoiding all the booby traps on the roof, Valek reached his target. He opened the window and slipped inside. A bright fire burned in the hearth, and the Commander sat in front of it, sipping his brandy. The other seat was empty. A relief. Valek had expected to see Owen lounging in Valek’s chair, and he had a dart filled with Curare just in case.

“Have you come to assassinate me, Valek?” the Commander asked without even glancing in his direction.

Valek approached the Commander but kept his distance. No doubt the man was armed, and his skills with a knife exceeded Valek’s. “No.”

He turned his head, and his golden gaze met Valek’s. “Why not? I signed your order of execution. I sent Onora after you. Well done, by the way. I didn’t think you’d beat her. Pity, though. She had such potential.” He paused as if truly grieving. “You know your only chance to leave this room alive is to kill me. If you can.”

A big if. “I came to talk.”

“Nothing you say to me will change anything.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and a bit resigned. The Commander’s all-black uniform was pristine as always. Two real diamonds on his collar reflected the firelight, sending sparks of yellow onto the walls.

The faint scent of apples laced the air. “I didn’t come to talk to you.”

“You expected Owen to be here? We’re not to that point yet, but he’ll be along soon enough.”

“Magical alarm?”

“In a way.” The Commander tapped his forehead.

“How much time do I have?”

The Commander refused to answer.

Which meant not much. Valek knew the Commander’s physical body was female, but Ambrose had always identified as male and lived as a man since puberty. No one else was privy to this information except Yelena. Her Soulfinding abilities detected that the Commander’s mother’s soul also resided in his body. When Signe had died in childbirth, her magic transferred her soul to her baby. The Commander had trusted Yelena and Valek to keep it a secret.

“I came to talk to your mother,” Valek said.

He shrank back in his chair. “She can’t talk.”

“She can if you let her.”

“I can’t... Owen...” He pressed his fingers into his temples as if enduring a sudden headache.

“Signe’s the reason for the inconsistencies. Why you could send me and Yelena away, despite Owen’s influence on your mind. Owen doesn’t have control of your mother’s soul.”

“Owen thinks he does, but he can’t know...or all is lost.”

“I’ll be quick so he doesn’t find out,” Valek promised.

The transformation of Commander Ambrose into his mother, Signe, would have been startling if Valek hadn’t seen it before. His features didn’t shift, but from one breath to the next, another person peered from his almond-shaped eyes. Even with his bristle-short gray hair, she appeared feminine.

“How did Owen get to Ambrose?” Valek asked her.

“Owen pleaded for his life. He promised my son barrels of Curare for his army in exchange. It appeared to be a standard business deal, but Owen planted a...seed, I think, during that first meeting.”

“A seed?”

“A powerful suggestion in Ambrose’s mind that Owen was to be trusted.”

Ah, hell. That was over four years ago.

“What happened to the null shields in his uniforms?”

“Owen forced Ambrose to lie about them to you so you wouldn’t suspect he was being influenced by the magician.”

Valek considered. “It worked. Plus, I didn’t notice any change in him. Not then.”

“No one did. It was subtle. In fact, Ambrose wouldn’t believe me—he was too focused on getting Curare for his soldiers. Owen kept the connection hidden until he arrived at the castle. By then it was too late.”

“When is Owen planning to take over Sitia?”

“Once the Cartel has control of the Sitian military, it’s a done deal. They are going to assign military districts and generals to the clans.”

“The Sitian people won’t accept that.” Especially Fisk and his people.

“Owen and the Cartel have a way to change their minds.”

“There isn’t enough Theobroma for everyone in Sitia.”

“They don’t need Theobroma. They have something else,” Signe said.

A cold wave of fear swept through him. “What is it?”

“I wish I knew. Owen won’t tell Ambrose what it is. But it doesn’t matter at this point. My son cannot disobey Owen’s commands.”

“But you can?”

“For now. Owen believes I’m trapped, like Ambrose, and we’ve been careful to keep up the ruse.”

Good to know. Valek focused on the problem at hand. “Do you have any idea what it is?”

“All I know is that Owen learned about it from his ancestor, Master Magician Ellis Moon. It was in the magician’s notes.”

Valek muttered a curse. “Does Owen have those notes with him?”

“I don’t think so. He complained that he could only copy the information, despite being a direct descendant. They’re considered vital historical documents and are kept in the Magician’s Keep’s library. He made an odd comment about how the library wouldn’t let him take the files.”

Muted voices reached them through the gap under the door. The doorknob jiggled.

“You need to go,” Signe said.


9 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

JANCO

Janco resisted the urge to scratch. No matter what color he dyed his hair, it always caused his scalp to itch something fierce. And the fake ear glued over his scarred one just added to his discomfort. Sweat pooled underneath the putty, driving him crazy. Add in the heat and humidity, and Janco longed for an assignment on the northern ice sheet. At this point, he’d gladly endure frostbite and evade snow cats. Better than dodging deadly Greenblade bees.

The creak of wood and rattle of a harness cut through Janco’s misery. From his hiding spot, he craned his neck, peering around a bush. Sure enough, a wagon rode into view, heading west. Two horses pulled it at a fast trot. Janco waited as it slowed. The driver—a tall, impossibly thin Greenblade man Janco had nicknamed Toothpick—must have spotted the tree trunk lying across the road. The tree wasn’t big enough to halt the wagon entirely, but in order to continue his journey, the driver would have to roll over it with care or risk a broken wheel.

Janco shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. When the horses stepped over the log, he slipped behind the wagon. As the wheels thumped over the obstruction, Janco climbed in and crawled under the tarp, avoiding the sacks of white coal as he wedged his body between the other supplies.

The wagon increased its speed after it cleared the trunk. Janco grinned and pumped his fist. Toothpick didn’t have a clue he’d just picked up a passenger. Not sure how long it would be until they stopped, Janco settled into a more comfortable position.

Janco’d been watching and tracking the deliveries to the Greenblade garrison for two weeks now, trying to identify which wagon brought in the Theobroma for the cook to use in the garrison’s food. It had been harder than he expected, since they used a tarp and the schedule was erratic. But once he figured out Toothpick was the delivery man, it didn’t take long to plan a way to hop a ride to see just where the Theobroma was coming from.

Janco checked the lump under his tunic, ensuring it remained in place. The null shield pendant kept the Cartel’s magicians from brainwashing him and also from detecting him. They’d been rather vigilant about spies, which was why he couldn’t simply follow the wagon on horseback.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Janco guessed Toothpick would stop for the night. He remembered General Brazell’s Theobroma-producing factory. They had smelled the sweet aroma of the drug miles downwind. He doubted many of the Greenbladers recognized the scent. However, finding an isolated spot to produce the stuff must have been difficult, since the Greenblade forest, which covered two-thirds of their lands, had dozens of tiny settlements all over the place.

When the wagon slowed hours later, Janco prepared to ditch. While certain he could take Toothpick without breaking a sweat, Janco didn’t want to ruin the mission. This was an information-gathering endeavor. Ari, his partner, had just about pounded the importance of not being seen into Janco’s head.

Slipping out before the horses stopped, Janco dropped onto the road. He ducked into the woods as the wagon continued toward a bright yellow glow. Perhaps Toothpick had decided to overnight in one of the settlements. By the distant brightness, Janco guessed it must be one of the bigger villages.

Janco hurried to catch up, but paused at the edge of the...town? He stared through the trees at the wide array of buildings and factories. People bustled between them even at this late hour. Greenery filled the extra-long glass hothouses lined up like fingers—ten in all. The nutty sweetness of Theobroma fogged the air and mixed with the unmistakable citrus tang of Curare.

Holy snow cats! He’d hit the jackpot.

Or had he? This was blatant, even for Bruns. And judging by the age of the tree stumps and worn paths, this had been here for years. Someone would have noticed it by now. Unless Owen had set it up and scared off the locals?

The answer popped into his head, and Janco almost groaned aloud. Idiot.

He removed the null shield pendant—a gift from Leif—and a dark forest replaced the scene of bright industry. All sounds ceased, and only a moist, earthy scent filled his nose. Pain burned in his right ear.

The town was covered by a massive illusion. Even though Janco hated magic, he had to admit the deception was impressive. The main road curved around the northern edge, so unsuspecting travelers would avoid all the buildings.

Looping the pendant back around his neck, Janco squinted in the sudden light. He spent the next couple hours observing. The activity slowed well after midnight, with only a few people remaining outside. The desire to nose about the complex to learn more pulsed in his chest. Perhaps he’d spot Owen’s Master Gardener. The man or woman had to be in charge of this operation. And Janco even wore the long green tunic and pants that the Greenblade men preferred. His light brown hair and tanned skin matched them as well.

However, Janco remembered the last time he’d pushed his luck. He’d ended up not only getting caught but also causing the rest of his team to be captured. Dax had died, Hale went missing and Leif had almost died.

Being sensible for the first time in his life, Janco left, jogging along the road. He’d report back to Ari and, after they sent the information to Fisk, they’d return and have a good snoop.

* * *

Janco arrived in Longleaf late the next morning. Instead of trying to go undercover in the garrison, they’d decided to rent a small house in the nearby town and keep an eye on the flow of traffic going to and from the base.

With a sudden burst of energy, Janco sprinted to the narrow wooden house wedged in the middle of a row. He rushed into the front room and was about to shout his good news, but Ari’s tense posture stopped him in his tracks. Ari wore his I-want-to-strangle-someone expression. One that was usually aimed at Janco, but was directed at a young boy. Poor kid.

At six feet four inches tall, Ari loomed over most others. The skinny-mini standing next to him appeared tiny in comparison. Must be one of Fisk’s...spies. Hard to call kids under the age of fifteen spies, but the little tykes had come in handy since the Cartel decided to take over Sitia. And the guild members had saved their asses back when Bruns had them. Gotta give them their due.

Sensing trouble, Janco asked, “Something wrong?”

“We’re being recalled to the Citadel,” Ari said. Frowning, he ran a big, beefy paw—er...hand—over the short curls of his blond hair.

“Who and why?”

“Valek’s orders. Tell him,” Ari said to the boy.

Janco braced for bad news as Skinny-Mini detailed Yelena’s capture and her agreement with Cahil—which explained Ari’s murderous glare. Despite the results, using lamplighters for an ambush was a sweet move. He’d never look at them the same way again.

“I need to inform the others. Master Fisk is pulling all agents from the garrisons,” Skinny-Mini said.

“Go,” Ari said.

“Wait.” Janco grabbed his shoulder. “Are you returning to the Citadel after this?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Tell Fisk we’ll be delayed a few days.”

“We can’t disobey a direct order,” Ari said.

“Don’t worry, Ari. Valek will forgive us. He’ll probably give us a medal.”

“Why?” Ari and Skinny-Mini asked in unison.

He told them about the complex. “We can’t return without checking it out. It might be the key to stopping the Cartel.”

Ever cautious, Ari asked, “How many guards are there?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll be like ghosts—invisible.”

“Ghosts aren’t... Oh, never mind. We’ll check it out, but I’ll decide if we go into the complex or just watch from a distance.”

“Hey, who put you in charge?” Janco asked, outraged.

“Valek.”

“Oh, yeah.” All his annoyance disappeared. “No problem. I know you’ll want to take a closer look. It’s irresistible, like candy and babies.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this, but you find candy and babies irresistible?” Ari asked.

“Hell no. They’re both sticky.”

His partner waited.

“Some people find them irresistible. And, you know...” Janco waved his hand. “They’re easy to steal...or something like that.”

“I was right.”

“About what?”

“I regret asking that question.”

Janco clapped him on the shoulder. “But you’ve learned something. Never pick up a sticky baby, ’cause you’ll never be able to let go. And I—” he yawned “—am going to catch a couple z’s while you go shopping and pack.”

As Janco shuffled off to bed, Skinny-Mini said to Ari, “I thought you were in charge.”

“Only when it counts.”

* * *

It was almost sunset by the time they saddled Diamond Whiskey and The Madam. While Janco missed his horse, Beach Bunny—named after a beloved pet rabbit—he had to admit The Madam’s calm demeanor was a nice counterpoint to his own fiery personality. Unconcerned, she watched Janco with gray eyes that said nothing could surprise her anymore. He stroked her neck, smoothing the hair on her gray-dappled coat.

Now with Whiskey, Ari had finally found a horse that didn’t look like it would collapse under the big, muscular man’s weight. The large dark brown horse had a white diamond blaze on his forehead. Strong and quick despite his size, Whiskey shifted, ready to go.

“After you,” Ari said, sweeping a hand out.

Janco hopped onto The Madam and retraced the route to the hidden complex. Once the sun set, they’d have to slow down, so he set a fast pace. On horseback, it would take half the time to reach the spot Janco had marked to leave the horses. No doubt there was a magical alarm on the road closer to the facility. He hoped their null shields would prevent them from triggering it.

They set up a base camp deep in the forest. Infiltrating an unfamiliar location took time. While the size of the place was in their favor—an unknown face would not cause alarm—the efficiency with which everyone bustled about was not conducive to blending in. Ari said they would follow the standard three-stage plan.

Stage one—observe. Janco hated this one. For the next twenty-four hours, they took turns watching the facility from different angles, making notes of...well, everything possible. Boring, but necessary. If they planned to go undercover, they’d spend a week or more studying the complex and seeking the perfect place to insert themselves. But for information gathering, this part wasn’t that time-consuming—thank fate.

Stage two—forays. More fun than sitting still for hours. Plus, Janco preened because he’d known Ari wouldn’t be able to resist. Forays involved making short trips into the complex at different times to clarify their observations. For example, the long rectangular building in the southwest corner could be housing for the workers or a canteen or could contain offices. They wanted to avoid people and find information, so they needed to know where the offices were located.

Since Ari’s size tended to draw attention, Janco completed the forays while his partner watched. He strode into buildings as if he belonged there, nosed about the factories, confirming they were indeed producing both Theobroma and Curare, and took a closer look at those huge glass hothouses. Condensation coated the inside of the glass, blurring the contents into an indistinguishable mass of green.

Workers carried long loops of vines from the second hothouse, so Janco headed toward the ones near the end. Checking that no one paid him any attention, Janco ducked into the seventh house and walked into a slice of the jungle. Thick, humid air pressed on his skin with the scent of living green. Insects buzzed around his ears.

A narrow dirt path cut through the plants. He followed it and recognized Curare vines snaked around the trees and hanging from limbs. Underneath the green canopy, pods heavy with beans grew from the trunks of the Theobroma trees. Janco couldn’t identify the other plants, so he broke off a few leaves for Leif and shoved them into his pocket.

Knowing Ari was probably having a fit, Janco headed for the exit. The door opened a few feet before he reached it. A middle-age man with dark skin entered. He carried a long pair of pruning shears.

Startled, the man demanded, “What are you doing in here?”

Janco kept calm. “Just looking around.”

The gardener peered at him. A shock of recognition zipped through Janco. He’d met this man before, but at the moment, he couldn’t recall his name or the place. Bad enough, but if the man recognized him, that would be even worse.

Unaware of Janco’s turmoil, the man said, “You’re not part of the gardening crew or the harvesting crew, so you’re not allowed in here.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. Many of these plants are very delicate.”

“I didn’t touch anything.” Janco stepped to go around him.

The gardener held up his shears, pointing the tips at Janco’s chest. “Not so fast. You look familiar. What’s your name?”

Without hesitating, Janco said, “Yannis Greenblade, sir.”

“You’ll be docked a week’s pay for this little stunt, Yannis. Be glad I don’t fire you.”

Ah, this man was in charge. Janco lowered his gaze as if in contrition. “Thank you, sir.”

“And stay out of my hothouses.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man lowered the shears, and Janco bolted for the door. Holy snow cats, he’d just encountered the Master Gardener. Now if he could only remember the man’s name.


10 (#ub4ca454e-0531-5a06-ac35-0747a2a7c8d6)

YELENA

The bang of the door slamming behind Valek echoed in my bones. Shocked and speechless, I stood among the prone forms of Cahil’s people in the warehouse. I’d never seen him so angry with me. But he had every right to be. I hadn’t believed he’d win in a fight with Onora, or trusted him to rescue me.

Cahil bent to retrieve his sword. “That went better than expected.”

I raised an eyebrow. All his people had been neutralized, and a nasty cut snaked up his arm from when Valek had disarmed him.

“When I saw the Commander’s new assassin, I thought she’d come to kill us all. And then with Valek... I never thought he’d let you fulfill the terms of our agreement. Although, at the end there, I think he wanted to kill you more than me.”

With good reason. I’d ruined all the plans we’d worked so hard to set in motion. The heart-shaped scar on my chest ached. It’d been only two months since we’d exchanged marriage vows and Valek had transformed the Commander’s bloody C on his chest into a heart, pledging his loyalty to me. In return, I’d cut a heart of my own, vowing to be with him forever.

“Despite your claims, the Commander is not working with Bruns,” Cahil said, distracting me from my morose thoughts.

“How did you come up with that?”

“Onora’s obviously working with Valek. That fight on the rooftop was probably staged. Her claim that Bruns asked the Commander to send her was just to make me doubt Bruns. Just like you want to do with our accord.”

I couldn’t argue the point that Valek and Onora were working together. Why hadn’t he told me? Perhaps he didn’t have time. Did it matter? No. Valek always put my safety first. If he forgave me, I’d never doubt him again. If not...

I shied away from that awful thought.

“Come on,” Cahil said, heading to the stairs.

We returned to the basement office. I bandaged Cahil’s cut and then sat at one of the desks while Cahil straightened the mess they’d left behind in their hurry to leave. He hummed to himself. The bastard was in a good mood.

“Did you lie about The Mosquito, too?” I asked.

“I didn’t lie about Valek. My sources spotted him fighting Onora, and she was seen later. It was a natural conclusion. As for The Mosquito, he is dead. That’s been confirmed.”

One bright spot in an otherwise miserable day. The sleepless night caught up to me. Exhausted and heartsick, I rested my head on the desk and welcomed sleep.

* * *

Voices and movement roused me. Cahil’s people had woken, and they filtered into the office area with sheepish expressions. A few sported bruises, and I helped bandage a number of cuts. It could have been worse.

Cahil sent two of them to keep an eye on the door while the rest discussed their next move. A messenger from Bruns arrived, and I ducked under the desk to avoid being spotted. They went into Cahil’s office, but I remained hidden until the man left.

“Good news, Yelena.” Cahil smiled. “I’ve been recalled to the garrison. No need to invent an excuse for our departure.”

“Why do you have to go back?”

His grin turned sly. “I’ll tell you in ten days.”

Bastard.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning for the garrison,” Cahil said to his crew. “Hanni, please pick up supper for all of us.”

“Not from the Council Hall’s dining room,” I said. “The Hall’s food is laced with Theobroma.”

Hanni gave me a wide-eyed stare.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Cahil said with an annoyed tone.

“How else can you explain the Councilors’ willingness to leave and allow the Cartel to take over?”

“They agreed with Bruns’s brilliant ideas and strategy.”

“Then why not appoint him General and organize the war preparations themselves?” I asked.

“I’m not going to argue with you anymore.”

Too bad. It would be a nice distraction from my situation.

“Hanni, buy a bunch of meat pies from the market.” Cahil handed her a gold coin.

“Yes, sir.” She bolted for the door.

“This place has been compromised. The rest of you pack up all the intel. We’ll move the furniture later.”

They bustled about, shoving files and various items into boxes and crates. I stayed out of the way.

One of the door guards appeared and gestured Cahil over. “There’s a...person at the door. He insists on talking to you and our...guest.”

Scowling, Cahil asked, “Valek?”

Excitement swirled in my chest. Did Valek return to say goodbye?

“No, sir. A young man. Says he has a package for you both.”

All warmth died.

Cahil belted his sword on and tucked a dagger into the opposite side. He held a hand out to me. “Come on.”

Curious and hopeful that maybe Valek had sent me a message instead, I stood. Cahil grasped my wrist tightly.

“I promised to cooperate. You don’t need to hold on to me as if I’m going to run away,” I said.

He didn’t bother to reply. But as he guided me up to the ground floor and through the gloomy warehouse, I remembered he’d done the same thing when Onora appeared. As if the gesture warned her that I belonged to him. Perhaps he worried the young man would attempt to rescue me.

Fisk waited with the other guard by the open door. The fading sunlight lit his light brown eyes. A painful burn shone on his left temple and a raw cut marked his cheek. I shot Cahil a nasty glare. Fisk, though, peered at me in concern. Even though he was seventeen years old, I still saw the small boy that I’d first met over eight years ago superimposed on his tall and lean frame.

“Ah, it’s the Beggar King,” Cahil said. “Come to check on Yelena, Your Majesty?”

Fisk ignored Cahil. Instead he asked me, “Are you all right?”

“She’s fine,” Cahil said.

“And she’d better stay that way, or else—”

“What? You’ll send your kiddies after me? They’re no match for trained soldiers.”

Fisk smiled. I marveled that his grin actually lowered the temperature in the room by ten degrees.

“Oh no, General. I wouldn’t do something so...overt. There are so many ways to make a person’s life miserable.”

Score one for Fisk.

“Did you just come here to threaten me? I’ve more important things to attend to.”

“I brought you these.” Fisk handed a pouch to Cahil and one to me.

Cahil let go of my arm, and I untied the string. Inside was a wooden pendant of a bat hanging on a necklace. Cahil held up an ugly beetle. Leif had been so thrilled when he figured out how to attach a shield to a pendant. His wouldn’t stick to glass or metal or stone, but when he tried wood, it had worked. The sudden desire to see my brother pulsed in my chest.

“Null shields, compliments of Valek,” Fisk said.

Was this a sign that Valek wasn’t angry anymore? I looped it around my neck, even though the baby seemed to be protecting me from magic. When Bruns had captured me, the daily magical brainwashing I endured wore off as the day progressed. And when Rika had used a magical illusion to disguise herself as Valek, I saw through it when she touched my skin. I’d speculated that the baby was stealing the magic, but since I didn’t know exactly what was going on or what the fetus was doing with the power, it was a good idea not to rely on the protection it offered.

Cahil gave me a sour look as he tucked the pendant under his tunic, hiding it from sight. “I don’t feel any different.”

“It’s going to take some time for the Theobroma and magic to wear off,” I said.

“So you say.” He turned to Fisk. “Anything else?”

“I’d like to talk to Yelena in private.”

Cahil crossed his arms as if about to refuse, but after a moment he relaxed and motioned for his men to move away. “Stay in sight,” he said to me, then strode far enough to give us some privacy if we kept our voices low. But his gaze remained on me.

“Do you have a message from Valek?” I asked before Fisk could even open his mouth.

“Uh...no.”

I swallowed my disappointment. It hurt going down and landed in my stomach with a nauseated splash. “How are Lyle, Innis and the scouts doing?”





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