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Irys nodded and pulled a glass statue from her pocket. He guessed the red-tailed hawk glowed with magic, but he was unable to see it. She stared into the depths of the messenger.

“Ask if Leif checked in with Tama Moon,” he said. He needed to know if Owen’s men had ambushed Leif before or after he talked to the Councilor.

Irys frowned. “We’ll have to wait. My contact will ask the Councilor and report back. Get some sleep, Valek. You’re exhausted.”

It was a good idea, but sleeping seemed impossible. Valek desired action. His hands itched to hurt the people who held Leif and Yelena. Instead, he stabled Onyx and then joined the morning training session, working on sword drills with the students until Irys appeared and waved him over.

“Councilor Moon never requested Leif. She hasn’t seen him at all,” she said.

Valek calculated. Leif had likely been taken three days ago. He could still be in Moon Clan lands, or in Cloud Mist’s lands, or even the Featherstone lands. He would need to travel to Fulgor, but Onyx required a few more hours’ rest before they could leave. With reluctance dragging at his feet, he Valek finally took Irys’s advice and slept.

#

By mid-afternoon, Valek and Onyx headed toward Fulgor. The horse seemed to sense his impatience and pushed himself harder than normal. The five-day journey turned into four. Valek made sure to find a clean stable and rubbed the black horse down himself when they arrived.

“You’ve been hanging out with those Sandseed horses too long,” Valek said to him, patting his neck in gratitude. With Onyx fed, watered and settled, Valek hurried to his safe house. He didn’t care if anyone recognized him on the streets of Fulgor, but he made sure no one saw him enter the small, nondescript townhouse a few blocks from the Councilor’s Hall.

The agent on duty shot to her feet when Valek appeared. She opened her mouth, about to launch into an update on what had been happening in the city, but he silenced her with a sharp wave of his hand.

“I need to know if any of our Fulgor agents has reported seeing Leif Liana Zaltana in the last ten days,” he said.

The young woman pulled a log book from the desk. Flipping through the pages, she scanned the entries. Valek paced the narrow room. A few armchairs had been set up near the window to give the appearance of a home. And a fire always burned in the hearth in case important documents needed to be destroyed. However, the rest of the dwelling was used as an office and safe haven for his corps. The Commander had ordered him to set up and maintain one of these safe houses in each major city in Sitia, including the Citadel. All to keep track of the neighbors to the south. Yelena would be livid if she knew, but Valek couldn’t disobey a direct order from the Commander. Besides, the houses came in handy during times like these.

“Sir, he was spotted entering the Weir Inn seven days ago, and two days ago, an agent noted that his horse remains at the inn’s stables. No one has seen him around town or at the Councilor’s Hall.”

Valek raced to the inn, beating the supper rush by just a few minutes. The common room hummed with voices, and servers weaved through the tables. Valek sought the innkeeper and heard the same story. Here for one night and disappeared the next day. She figured Leif would return for his horse eventually.

“Did he talk with anyone?” Valek asked her.

“He spent a good deal of time with our chef. They’re friends,” she said.

The sizzling smell of grilled beef dominated the kitchen. Valek’s stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. The chef flipped beef steaks with an expert twist of his wrist.

“I stayed up all night with Leif,” the chef said between tasks. “We talked food—no surprise there, the man has an excellent palate—and then I whipped him up some sweet cakes for breakfast. Afterwards, Sarah said there were guards asking for him.” He shrugged. “He told me he was in town to help the guards, I think they all left together.”

Valek thanked him and left the kitchen. Returning to the common room, he sat at a table in the back corner and ordered a beef steak. It didn’t take a genius to guess that those guards weren’t legit. After Valek finished his meal, he walked toward Fulgor’s Councilor’s Hall. In order to maintain the ruse long enough to lead Leif somewhere relatively deserted, the fake guards would have had to start out in the right direction.

In the graying twilight, Valek scanned the street, searching for places he would use for an ambush. He peered into dark alleys and circled abandoned buildings. One alley a number of blocks away from the Inn had signs of a struggle scuffed on the cobblestones near the alley’s entrance. It could be from a street fight, but he needed to investigate before the light was gone. Halfway down the alley, he discovered drag marks leading to a warehouse door. Rust coated the hinges and knob, but not the lock.

Could it really be that easy? Not trusting the door, Valek climbed to the second floor and found an unlocked window. Ghosting inside the empty building, he didn’t encounter anyone or anything on the second floor. On the first floor, he found a machete in the corner of a big open room. Dried blood splattered the blade. Nearby, he spotted faint scratches on the brick wall, but it was too dark to decipher them.

“Need a light?” a woman’s voice asked.

As a fire blazed to life behind him, Valek spun and grabbed his daggers. Six black-clad figures fanned out in front of him, pointing their swords at him. Guess it isn’t going to be that easy.

Valek was literally cornered. Six armed figures blocked his only escape route. He kept his expression neutral, but inside he chastised his own lack of judgment.

“Only six?” he asked, sounding bored. “My, my.” He tsked and spun his daggers in his hands. “Do you want to surrender to me now or later?”

The woman laughed—a deep, almost seductive sound. She held the lantern aloft. Standing safely behind the semi-circle of fighters, she had pulled the hood of her long cloak up to conceal her face. “We’re well aware of your reputation. And I must say, I’m disappointed,” she said.

Magic brushed Valek’s skin. At least one of the ambushers was a magician. Even though he was immune to magic, he could feel it, and if it was strong enough, it could slow him down.

The woman continued, “We expected you to show up at some point, but we never thought you would be this easy to catch.”

“Who says I’m caught?” he asked.

A chuckle rippled through the six fighters. Valek studied them. They wore tight-fitting black clothes that covered everything but their eyes. Sharp swords pointed at him with steady hands, and a few clutched short knives as well.

His daggers wouldn’t reach as far as their weapons. Leif’s machete lay by his feet, but the thick blade still wouldn’t be long enough. He considered the darts treated with Curare. tucked in his belt. They would even the odds a bit if he had time to use them.

“Enough banter,” the woman said. “Put down your weapons, and you will not be harmed.”

“Did you give Leif that choice as well?” he asked.

“No. In fact, if you manage to escape tonight, he will be harmed in retaliation for your attempt to interfere. Yelena will witness us cutting his arms off.”

So they did have him. “And if I surrender?”

“He will not be hurt, and you will provide more incentive for her to complete her mission successfully.”

“What if she doesn’t follow Owen’s orders?”

“You and Leif will suffer.”

“But you just said I wouldn’t be harmed.” Valek kept his tone reasonable as he suppressed a smile at the woman’s growing frustration. She might think she had the upper hand, but Valek was in control.

“Yelena’s disobedience would hurt you. As long as she obeys, you will be fine.”

He noted the woman’s speech patterns. Her word choice reminded him of Moon Man. Strange. Most of the Sandseed clan had been killed, and he couldn’t imagine one of the survivors working for Owen M

oon.

“Drop your weapons, now,” she ordered.

He considered, taking his time just to piss her off. No doubt he’d escape, but why go to all that effort? They’d probably just take him to Leif. They weren’t smart enough to keep him and Leif far apart, which was what he’d do in their place. Plus, if he escaped, they might use a glass messenger to report his involvement and then injure Leif before he could rescue him. And he’d yet to be locked in a prison that could hold him for long.

Valek slowly set his daggers on the floor and held his hands up.

“And the rest,” she said.

He removed a few more weapons, but left the darts, lock picks and a couple other surprises in place. She ordered him to turn around and put his hands on the wall. Doing as instructed, Valek knew exactly what would happen next. Even though he braced for the blow, the impact sent him to his knees. Blackness claimed him.

#

A dagger of pain stabbed him between the eyes. Valek groaned and touched the back of his head, fingering a tender, fist-sized lump. Nausea churned in his stomach. He lay still to keep from losing his supper.

“At least you’re not dead,” Leif said. “Although after a few meals in here, you’ll wish you were.”

Valek opened his eyes. He was in a cell comprised of one stone wall with bars along the remaining three. Beyond his door was a wide walkway and another stone wall. The walkway ended at a set of metal doors on his left. Lanterns hung along the far wall, illuminating the narrow prison. From his location, he counted three cells in total. The configuration was unfamiliar.

Leif stood in the adjoining cell on his right, watching him with a semi-amused expression. Purple bruises and half-healed cuts marked his face. He wore a blue coverall that resembled a prison uniform.

“If you’re my knight in shining armor, I’m screwed,” Leif said.

Careful not to jar his head, Valek pushed into a sitting position. He was getting too old for this nonsense. Valek also wore a blue coverall, and a quick check confirmed that none of his own clothing remained, which meant no weapons and no lock picks.

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