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Valek paused, letting the Commander’s comment sink in. Ambrose had put that bit in there about invading Sitia to throw Valek off.
“You believe my loyalties are divided between you and Sitia?” Valek asked.
“Perhaps not Sitia, but between me and Yelena. Am I right?”
Ah. Valek considered.
“Let me put it this way. If she was in mortal danger and I ordered you to stay here and write reports, what would you do?” Ambrose leaned forward. “No need to answer. Your expression gives you away. You’d bolt for the border.”
The Commander was right. Valek would. When had his feelings changed? He’d been prepared to kill Yelena for the Commander eight years ago.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be.
You’ve served me faithfully for twenty-four years. And what I’ve learned in your absence is that I need someone here who is as committed as you once were.”
“I’ve been trying to train Maren, Ari and Janco.”
“Won’t work. Maren isn’t organized and the boys would rather be playing spy.”
Valek had to agree. “You think Onora could do my job? She’s pretty inexperienced.”
“I hate to disappoint you, Valek, but I’m looking a few years, not a few days, into the future.”
“You don’t know much about her.”
“And I knew nothing about you when I accepted your pledge in that alley twenty-four years ago.”
True. “Why did you? You had no idea if my word meant anything.”
“You had a hungry determination in your eyes. The same look Onora has now.”
“I wanted the King’s blood. Whose blood does she want?” Valek asked.
“Perhaps that captain in MD-2?”
“Perhaps.” But Valek wasn’t convinced. And if he was going to relinquish his job to her, he would make sure she had more to her than a hungry look in her eyes.
25
JANCO
The clatter of the wagon’s wheels echoed off the tunnel’s stone walls. Janco followed the glow of the torches while remaining far enough back to avoid being noticed. Not that the six guys would have the energy to look behind them. Each set of three men pulled a heavy wagon through the narrow cave that was too tight for horses.
They had been going downhill, but now the ground slanted up. He wondered if they noticed the extra weight in the second wagon. Onora had sneaked under the burlap. She’d ordered him to follow the cart heading into Ixia, but that was Ari and Gerik’s territory. Besides, he didn’t completely trust Little Miss Assassin yet.
Janco hoped the incline meant they neared the end. The air seemed thicker in here and harder to draw into his lungs. He’d inspected the walls of the tunnel as he traveled through. The natural cave formation had narrowed then ended. At that point, the smugglers had carved a hole and dug out a mix of dirt and rocks. Shovel marks scored the walls. Janco wondered how long it’d taken them and where all the dirt had gone.
He hunched a bit, half expecting the ceiling to collapse on top of him at any minute. The cool air smelled earthy and a dampness clung to him. Or was that sweat? Being down here was almost as bad as being in the Creepy Keepy.
Finally a fresh breeze fanned his face. The tightness around his chest eased. The tunnel emptied into a forest. It resembled the Snake Forest, which meant they hadn’t gone too far into Sitia. And from the location of the entrance in Ixia, Janco guessed they were in the Moon Clan’s lands.
A team of horses and four people waited in the forest outside the cave. Janco stayed in the darkness of the tunnel as the men transferred the wagons to the horses. Once they finished, everyone jumped on the wagons. Janco hoped no one discovered Onora. He wondered if she blended in and resembled one of the barrels like she had matched the colors of the rocks earlier.
When the wagons trundled out of sight, Janco followed. Pain pierced his skull as he exited the cave. When it dulled, he turned around. The cave’s entrance was no longer visible. Another magical illusion hid it.
Keeping well back from the wagons, he wasn’t too worried about losing them. The heavy wagons made deep impressions into the ground. Plus the moon cast enough light to illuminate the wheels’ tracks, and dawn was still a few hours away. Janco yawned. Guess it’d be another night without sleep.
He increased his pace when he noticed a faint glow in the distance. There could be a city ahead, and it would be difficult to track the wagons over cobblestones. The smugglers headed toward a town and crossed a bridge. Only one street had been lined with lanterns, which meant calling the place a town was being generous.
The rush and gurgle of water sounded loud in the quiet night. A cold mist hovered over the banks of the river. The temperature dropped as he ghosted over the bridge, keeping low to avoid being seen. The smugglers entered a warehouse on the edge of town.
After the wagons disappeared into the darkness, a big metal door rolled silently down. Someone kept that door well oiled. Considering the moisture in the air, that sucker would have squealed without proper care. The air also held a familiar scent, but Janco couldn’t put a name to it.
Janco scanned the streets, but no one was in sight. He cased the building—two stories, flat roof, brick construction and easy-to-break-in windows—his favorite type. Debating if he should sneak in or wait for Onora, he decided to wait—for now. Janco found a perfect spot to watch for signs of activity like lantern light in the windows, which would mean they planned to stay awhile. Noises would also tip him off. Even if she knew he was here, Janco doubted Onora would be the type to yell or scream for help. His spot also gave him a view of all the exit points. Bonus!
When no one left after an hour, Janco figured the windows might be blacked out. And they could have soundproofed the building. It depended on how smart they were. Considering the magical illusion and tunnel, Janco guessed they had a certain level of sophistication. Adding that to the fact that once the sun rose, he’d be stuck until nightfall, he left his hiding spot and climbed to a second-floor window.
Thick curtains had been drawn across it. He eased open the lower pane, listening for...well, anything. Nothing. So far. Counting to ten, he widened the gap and waited. It remained quiet. Janco parted the curtain, peeking inside. Blackness. He pushed the fabric aside, letting in the faint street light to reveal the contents of the room.
Janco relaxed. Crates had been piled in a haphazard fashion, suggesting this was a storage room. He clambered onto a pile, careful to transfer his weight slowly so the wood wouldn’t creak. Then he tied the curtain back. He planned to leave before dawn and he’d need the light to find the exit—especially if he was in a hurry.
After navigating over the crates and boxes, he reached the door. The knob turned without trouble. A brief thought—this seemed too easy—flashed, but he ignored it as he opened the door. Peeking out, Janco confirmed that the dark hallway was unoccupied. No light shone under any of the doors, so he kept moving. It didn’t take him long to find a stairwell on the far end of the building. Darkness swallowed the bottom of the stairs.
Janco trailed his hand along the railing and descended. When he reached the last step, he groped for the door and encountered a number of spiderwebs—yuck—before finding a handle. He sucked in a breath and pushed it open.
More blackness greeted him, but a slight lightening of his surroundings crept in as his eyes adjusted. That familiar scent overpowered his senses and he stifled a cough. He covered his nose with his sleeve.
Large dark shapes of machinery filled the area around him. They appeared to be big vats of liquid with pipes snaking between them along with mixing tools. Distant light called like a beacon. He avoided the equipment as he crossed the factory, aiming for an oversize entrance. Beyond that, light flickered.
He peered into the other room—a storage area. A bunch of people grouped around a stack of barrels, drinking, talking and laughing. The two wagons and four sweating horses stood nearby. Janco half expected Onora to sneak up to him and demand why he was there, but she didn’t.
Moving a little closer, Janco squinted at the words burned into the barrels. Ixian white brandy. Ah, the Commander’s special brew, which was illegal to sell to Sitia. That solved that puzzle.
Janco then scanned faces, counting the six muscular men who’d towed the wagons through the tunnel and the four who’d met them on the Sitian side.
And one extra. Maren.
26
YELENA
I slipped through the building next door to Opal’s glass factory, exiting into an alley. Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I paused. The acrid odor of rotting garbage filled the air
. Distant sounds from the street reached me, but the narrow alley remained quiet.
Still wearing Reema’s cloak and the blond wig, I walked to the south end and turned right. Then I pressed next to the building, waiting. If anyone had been hidden in the alley, he would have to hustle to catch up and I’d spot him.
No one emerged. After a few more minutes, I continued down the street. Valek had taught me that trick and a few others. Without my powers, I’d need to rely on them and the null-shield pendant. Since Reema had my cloak, only the octopus remained to protect me from magic.
I kept to the shadows and let my fear guide me. When I turned west, my heart rate increased. Keeping to side streets, I traveled toward the heart of my terror. I reached a tight alley and every fiber of my being pressed on me to turn around and bolt. Death waited for me down this path. This alley must lead to Ben’s hiding place. Before entering, I opened my cloak and draped the fabric over my shoulders to free my arms. I palmed a couple of Curare darts in my left hand and my switchblade in my right with my thumb near the button. My hands shook as my heart skittered.
Summoning my courage, I strode down the alley to a door that pulsed with malevolence. I waited for Ben’s magic to alert them. But when nothing happened, I returned my weapons to their hidden locations and grabbed my diamond pick and tension wrench.
I knelt next to the door and worked on popping the lock. Good thing light wasn’t a requirement for picking a lock. As I lifted each pin, a distinctive click sounded along with a slight vibration through the metal pick. When all the pins were aligned, the tumbler turned, unlocking the door. It swung inward with a creak. I froze as fear burned in my guts.
No other sounds pierced the darkness. Returning my picks, I pulled my switchblade, stood and entered the building. If Ben and his gang had moved on, perhaps they’d left a clue as to where they were headed.
