Valek met each of their gazes until their grins faded. “She’s dangerous. Trust your instincts. Request help if you need it. If you get the sense things are getting hot, leave immediately. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“Good. I want twice weekly reports. You can deliver them to the agents at the safe house.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leaving seven coppers each for the meal, they took their mugs over to the hearth, joining the others who had gathered there. The group laughed and chatted. They seemed comfortable as if they did this every night.
Valek waited until Dallin returned to clear the bowls. He gave the innkeeper a small pouch filled with five gold coins. “I appreciate what you’re doing here.”
“That so? And what am I doing?” Dallin asked with a suspicious squint.
“It depends on your perspective.” Valek smiled.
He left the warmth of the inn. When the first blast of cold, snowy air hit him in the face, he wished he had asked Trevar to steal the recipe for The Ball Thawer.
* * *
Valek opened the door to his suite. The scent of lavender nearly brought him to his knees. Hope and fear tangled in his throat. “Yelena?” He could barely speak.
No answer. He left the door open, letting in the weak light from the hallway. Fumbling for a lantern, he lit it with trembling fingers.
He shone the light around the living room. “Yelena?”
No one. Disappointment crashed over him, and he sank onto his couch to keep from toppling. He’d been keeping busy, staying focused. Yet one whiff of lavender had felled him. Valek drew in a deep breath, inhaling her scent. It had been roughly half a season since he last held her in his arms. How in the world had he lasted almost a year without seeing her before?
After allowing loneliness and pity to run its course, Valek stood. He lit a few more lanterns and stopped in amazement. His apartment hadn’t been this clean since… Never. And it explained the lavender scent. But why would Brede switch? He’d been using lemon cleaner prior to Valek’s departure.
Valek was too tired to second guess Brede’s intentions. Instead, he built a big, beautiful fire and dragged his couch closer to the flames. Ahhh.
While the warmth from the flames soaked into his skin, Valek mulled over Porter’s involvement with Star. He’d been helping new magicians escape to Sitia, and, apparently, had hired Star’s people to safeguard them. When Valek had destroyed her organization, he’d inadvertently hindered Porter’s network. The kennel master must have been unable to find anyone to escort the young magician. Instead, she had moved from place to place in Castletown until Star had time to recruit a couple people to take the girl to Sitia.
Despite it being illegal, Valek had no issue with Porter’s network. And if that was all Star was up to, Valek would allow it to continue. Except, he doubted Star would be content with such small stakes. If he had to stop Star again, Valek would ensure Porter’s network remained in business.
Valek dozed for a couple hours, waking in time for his nightly meeting with the Commander. Knocking on Ambrose’s door, he stifled a yawn.
It swung open. “I heard a rumor you were back. Come in.”
Valek followed him into the living area and settled in his spot.
Ambrose brought over a glass of fire whiskey and handed it to Valek. “You look like you could use it.” He relaxed on the opposite couch.
“That bad?” Valek asked.
Cocking his head slightly, he scanned Valek. “You lost some weight, and there are dark smudges underneath your eyes.”
Valek raised his glass, acknowledging the comment. He took a long sip.
“Tell me a bedtime story,” Ambrose said. “Did you capture the villain and save the day?”
He laughed. “Singlehandedly.”
“Of course. Isn’t that what all dashing heroes do?”
“Dashing? Aww, you missed me.”
“Like a toothache.”
